Read Online Rules of Conflict by Kristine Smith - Free Book Online

“Report’s over for the day, Quino. You want
to see how your goddamn roses are doing, drive up here and check them yourself.”
    His knee ached less than it had for weeks—a walk seemed in order.
He strode to the end of the garden, then turned and paced alongside the
two-meter-tall hedge that defined his boundary with the neighbor who he’d been
told worked for Commerce Purchasing. Then he made a balance beam of the edge of
his patio and finished the traverse by walking along the latticed polywood
fence that formed the barrier between him and the neighbor who he’d been told
slaved for the Commonwealth Mint. He knew better, of course. Prime Minister’s
Intelligence, both of them. He’d have bet his last bottle.
    When he cut by the garden and stood again at the spot at which he
had started, he checked his timepiece. “Elapsed time for inspection of the van
Reuter fences—seventy-two seconds.” And he had even walked slowly this time.
    How do people live like this? Cheek by jowl. Sounds of
their lives commingled into one vast blare. Everyone knowing their business and
them knowing everyone else’s, without one minute’s privacy or peace. They all
must have developed a zoo-animal mentality, he decided, living their lives as
their instincts compelled them without caring who saw what.
    “Sir!”
    Evan turned. Halvor, his aide, stood on the patio, looking
befuddled as usual. “ Yes? ”
    The young man hesitated. “You have . . . a visitor,
sir.”
    Evan trudged up the shallow incline toward the house he thought of
as his Elba. “Quino isn’t supposed to stop by until tomorrow.”
    Halvor’s face, smooth and rounded as an overgrown baby’s, flushed
pink. “It’s not Mr. Loiaza, sir.”
    “Well, who is it?”
    Halvor told him.

    Evan took care to follow his aide at a carefully
calculated distance. Too close, and he’d seem anxious. Too far, and he’d seem
apprehensive. Stay calm . . . stay calm.
    After the glaring brightness of the outdoors, it took a few
seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dimmer light of the sitting room. He
didn’t register the figure standing in front of the curtained window until it
spoke.
    “Hello, Evan.” John Shroud stood with his back to him, his
attention focused on the view of the rear yard. “You’re due for a medical
checkup. Compassionate visitation, the Jo’burg Convention calls it. Guess who
drew the short straw?”
    Evan motioned for the flustered Halvor to leave the room. He sank
into his favorite lounge chair and waited for the hushed click that indicated
the door had closed. “You expect me to believe you flew in from Seattle just to
check my vitals?”
    “You’re an ex-Cabinet Minister, Evan. You rate Big Three
attention.”
    “Bullshit.”
    Shroud turned slowly. “As you wish.” He had employed his albinism
like a fashion accessory, as usual. Today, he resembled a polished marble of a
medieval monk. He’d brushed his stark white hair forward and had dressed in
ivory from head to toe, the collar of his jacket draping like a cowl. His
height, thinness, and long face reinforced the image, as did his blanched skin,
drawn tight across cheekbone and brow. Disturbing, no matter how often you’d
seen him. The ambassador from the Other Side.
    I should have expected this . Evan wished he’d had the sense
to prepare, but except for a quick swig prior to tending his roses, he’d had
nothing to drink that morning. As ever, abstinence proved a mistake. He always
felt more in control with a half liter of bourbon warming his insides. “What
really brings you to Chicago, John?” As if he couldn’t guess.
    “It’s been raining for two solid weeks back home.” Shroud’s bass
voice rumbled like a knell. “I need sunshine, even if all I can do is look.” He
strolled to the sofa and sat down. “Besides, I don’t often get the chance to
visit the capital.” He stretched out his long, thin legs and crossed them at
the ankles, then looked around the room, sharp