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made to pay fully for what you have done. As it is, I must ask you never to frequent my House again. If you so much as come near, I shall pass on my record of events to the authorities, ‘friends’ or no. Be warned.
Liu Chang
    He stuffed the paper into his tunic pocket then staggered out, more mystified than ever. Outside, in the corridor, he looked about him, then lurched over to the public drinking fountain, inset into the wall at the intersection. He splashed his face then straightened up.
    Friends. What friends? Or were they friends at all?
    Liu Chang knew, but he could not go near Liu Chang. Who, then?
    Haavikko shivered, then looked about him. Someone knew. Someone had made it their business to know. But who?
    He thought of the girl again and groaned. ‘I don’t deserve this chance,’ he told himself softly. And yet he was here, free, all debts settled. Why? He gritted his teeth and reached up to touch the spittle that had dried on his cheek. Friends. It gave him a reason to go on. To find out who. And why.
    DeVore took off his gloves and threw them down on the desk, then turned and faced his lieutenant, Wiegand, lowering his head to dislodge the lenses from his eyes.
    ‘Here.’ He handed the lenses to Wiegand, who placed them carefully into a tiny plastic case he had ready. ‘Get these processed. I want to know who those other four are.’
    Wiegand bowed and left.
    DeVore turned, meeting the eyes of the other man in the room. ‘It went perfectly. We attack Helmstadt in two days.’
    The albino nodded, but was quiet.
    ‘What is it, Stefan?’
    ‘Bad news. Soren Berdichev is dead.’
    DeVore looked at the young man a moment, then went and sat behind his desk, busying himself with the reports that had amassed while he was away. He spoke without looking up.
    ‘I know. I heard before I went in. A bad business, by all accounts, but useful. It may well have alienated the Mars settlers. They’ll have little love for the Seven now, after the destruction of the pipeline.’
    ‘Maybe...’ Lehmann was silent a moment, then came and stood at the edge of the desk looking down at DeVore. ‘I liked him, you know. Admired him.’
    DeVore looked up, masking his surprise. He found it hard to believe that Stefan Lehmann was capable of liking anyone . ‘Well,’ he said, ‘he’s dead now. And life goes on. We’ve got to plan for the future. For the next stage of the War.’
    ‘Is that why you went to see those scum?’
    DeVore stared past Lehmann a moment, studying the map on the wall behind him. Then he met his eyes again.
    ‘I have news for you, Stefan.’
    The pink eyes hardened, the mouth tightened. ‘I know already.’
    ‘I see.’ DeVore considered a moment. ‘Who told you?’
    ‘Wiegand.’
    DeVore narrowed his eyes. Wiegand. He was privy to all incoming messages, of course, but he had strict instructions not to pass on what he knew until he, DeVore, authorized it. It was a serious breach.
    ‘I’m sorry, Stefan. It makes it harder for us all.’
    The Notice of Confiscation had come in only an hour before he had gone off to meet the Ping Tiao , hot on the heels of the news of Berdichev’s death. In theory it stripped Lehmann of all he had inherited from his father, making him a pauper, but DeVore had pre-empted the Notice some years back by getting Berdichev to switch vast sums from the estate in the form of loans to fictitious beneficiaries. Those ‘loans’ had long been spent – and more besides – on constructing further fortresses, but Lehmann knew nothing of that. As far as he was concerned, the whole sum was lost.
    Lehmann was studying him intently. ‘How will it change things?’
    DeVore set down the paper and sat back. ‘As far as I’m concerned it changes nothing, Stefan. All our lives are forfeit anyway. What difference does a piece of paper bearing the seals of the Seven make to that?’
    There was the slightest movement in the young man’s ice-pale face. ‘I can be useful. You know