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program.
"What holes? Emelie sounded bitter. That program was flawless. Neuillan just knew how to beat it.
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Alister told him."
"What?"
"Not a chance!"
"Alister would never do that!"
"Well, not in so many words, Emelie hedged. But they were friends, or at least Alister thought they
were. He told me he was afraid he might have let too much slip, that Neuillan might have been able to
figure out from what Alister had said to him what kinds of answers would trigger the program to flag a
profile."
"I don't believe that, Cristof objected, the lines around his mouth deepening as he frowned. Neuillan
was one of our guardians when we were orphaned. He was a good friend, but Alister wouldn't have
compromised Ondinium's safety for him."
"He didn't do it on purpose, Emelie protested, looking around the room. You know how much Alister
liked to brag. Even if he wasn't supposed to talk about something, he'd still drop hints or tell you some
little secret to make you feel special. That's how he made friends so easily. Everyone felt like he was
trusting them with his confidences, and that made them trust him back."
"You're saying he was manipulative. Taya felt cold. Was that why Alister had so easily entrusted her
with the secret of his Clockwork Heart program?
"No, no, Lars protested. It wasn't like that. Sure, he tried to make friends with everyone he met, but
there's nothing wrong with that. He wasn't manipulative. He was proud of his work, but we all are.
Emelie's just got bent edges because he dumped her."
"He didn't dump me! I dumped him."
"Either way, it's coloring your perceptions. I liked Alister."
"We all did, Kyle agreed.
"He told me he thought Neuillan was his fault, Emelie repeated. Her tone was sullen. He said he felt
bad about it."
"Maybe someone else slipped through the program and was afraid that if Alister fixed it, he'd get
caught, Victor suggested. So he killed him."
"Doesn't have to be a he,' Isobel pointed out.
"Women don't use bombs. Victor scratched his beard. Women use knives. Or poison."
"I'd use a bomb! Isobel sounded indignant. Or don't you think I could figure out how to build one?"
"Oh, bombs are easy to build, Victor said. Isobel scowled. But they're not clean enough for a woman.
Men are slobs. We don't care if we get the walls dirty."
"Please Taya felt sick.
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"Oh. Lady. Sorry. Victor slumped in his chair again. Poor Alister. Have we helped you catch his killers
yet?"
"It helps to know that he was working on something more important than a marriage program. Cristof's
voice was strained. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the stack of cards Taya had seen the
night before. What do you know about these? Somebody smuggled them out of the Engine Room."
"Why do you still have those? Taya asked. Emelie's comments about Alister had depressed her, and
she was feeling contrary. I thought you were suspended."
"These cards aren't officially linked to the investigation of Alister's death. Cristof narrowed his eyes.
And if it turns out they are ... well, that wouldn't be my fault."
"Wait what do you mean by suspended'? Are you working with the lictors or not? Lars rumbled,
looking suspicious.
"I'm working with the lictors and I'm investigating my brother's murder. Cristof turned, his angular frame
diminished by Lars girth. But not at the same time."
"Are we going to get into trouble if we help you?"
"I'll try to avoid it. I can't guarantee anything."
The five looked at each other.
"Slag it, Victor said at last. Alister's his brother. A man has to avenge his brother."
"Yeah."
"You're right."
"I would."
"Works for me."
"He spoke highly of you, you know, Kyle said, turning and taking the cards. The other four crowded
around, and they passed the bundle back and forth. He said you were logical and precise, and if the
Council had brains instead of beads, it would have made you decatur, instead of him."
"That's not the impression he gave when he spoke to me, Cristof muttered.
"Really? Kyle gave the exalted a long look over the bowed heads of his friends. He told us he was
modeling one of his most important programs after you."
Cristof made an angry sound and Taya looked at him, surprised. Kyle blinked, then looked back down
at the cards.
"Anyway, if you'll give us some time, we need to skim through the perfs ... the perforations, the punches.
I have a pretty good idea of what this is, but we'll need to study it a little longer to be sure."
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The exalted nodded and turned, stalking off to stand alone at the other end of the room.
Taya waited a moment, then joined him. She wanted to apologize for letting his status on the
investigation slip, but the words died on her lips.
Cristof stood with his fists jammed into his coat pockets, his shoulders high and his eyes fixed on the
metal dance of the analytical engine's pistons and gears.
He looked so miserable that she reached out and touched his shoulder.
"It would help if you just let yourself cry, she murmured.
He jerked his shoulder away.
"It wouldn't help anything."
"It would help you. She swallowed, her own grief too close for comfort. You shouldn't hide your
feelings. I thought the whole idea was that you didn't want to wear a mask anymore."
His breath hissed as he turned his back more firmly on her.
"I think it's nice that Alister talked about you to his friends, she said, trying one last time to reach him.
He told me about you, too. He said he loved you and that he wished you realized that. And he insisted
he was going to talk to you before he talked to the lictors because he couldn't believe you were a
terrorist. He said it had to be a mistake."
"Stop defending him, Cristof said, his voice harsh. You heard what that skinny girl said. Alister was
just worming his way into your confidence, the way he always did."
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