“And kill half the indentured staff on this level? No.” I adjusted the containment field’s calibration. The dispenser’s organic components required specific atmospheric conditions, and Tarsus’s climate control system had a habit of fluctuating. “We’re not murderers.”
True. The man who owned us was excellent at making crimes look like legitimate business.
“We stick to the plan,” I said, more to reassure myself than him.
Flinx sent, his thought tinged with impatience.
My comm chirped. I glanced at the display and my stomach dropped.
Personal attendance required. My office. Immediately.
“Damn.” I saved my work and sealed the Catalyst’s case. When Tarsus summoned me, “immediately” meant I had about ten minutes before he started docking my meal credits. And the man was petty enough to follow through.
“No. Stay here. Monitor the containment fields.” I grabbed my slate and headed for the door. “If anything shifts, log it and notify me.”
“Always am.”
The walk to Tarsus’s office took four minutes through the villa’s staff corridors. White walls. Bright lighting. No shadows, no corners where someone could hide or plan or think thoughts that didn’t serve the owner’s interests. The design was intentional. Everything on Valyria was intentional.
His door stood open. Another power play. Come in. I’m not worried about you. I don’t need privacy from someone like you.
I stepped inside and found him at his desk, working through a meal that looked expensive. Some kind of Orlian delicacy, judging by the presentation. He didn’t look up.
“Sir.” I stood in front of his desk. Not sitting. He hadn’t offered, and I knew better than to assume.
“Carys.” He speared a piece of whatever he was eating. “I trust the morning’s cataloging is complete?”
“Ninety percent complete, sir. I have three more pieces to assess, then I’ll have the final documentation ready for your review.”
“Acceptable.” He took another bite, gesturing with his fork. “I had an interesting conversation last night. At the reception. You met our newest arrival, I believe?”
“The Vinduthi. Yes, sir.”
“Brevan Korven.” Tarsus set down his fork, a small smile playing at his lips. “He’s expressed significant interest in Thal’reth artifacts. Fascinating how extinct civilizations become so valuable. Rather like your own Terra, isn’t it? Though at least the Thal’reth left behind something worth collecting.”
The barb was a casual reminder of my status. I felt the familiar sting. “I see.” I kept my voice neutral. “Have you decided if he’ll be attending the auction?”
“He will.” Tarsus pushed his plate aside and leaned back in his chair. “And I’ve arranged for you to provide a privateconsultation. He wants an expert assessment of several pieces before he commits to bidding.”
“Of course, sir. When should I expect him?”
“This afternoon. Two hours. He’ll meet you in the museum wing.” He watched me carefully. “I want you to impress him, Carys. Show him what an expert can offer. Make him understand the value of having access to someone with your particular skills.”
The value. Right. Because that’s what I was. Not a person. Just a valuable asset that made Tarsus look sophisticated and powerful.
“I’ll provide my best service, sir.”
“I know you will.” He picked up a data slate, dismissing me without another word. “That’s why I purchased you.”
I left his office and took the long route back to the lab. Five extra minutes, but I needed them to push down the anger that wanted to climb out of my throat and strangle someone.
Preferably Tarsus.
