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The only vote Suyana had really lost was Grace's. In a perfectly reasonable, perfectly kind, perfectly pleasant way, Grace disappeared. She was terribly busy, and she was terribly grateful, and when Suyana met with her alone for briefings on the shifting loyalties among
member countries, Grace always took the seat closer to the door.

She was kind about it; Suyana imagined it was impos­sible for Grace to be cruel, and if Grace never quite looked her in the eye, then that could be useful too. The work still had to be done. They could do the work; they were practical.

The only rough patch of the new ascension—it got Grace accused of favoritism, and two of the lesser Committee chairs resigned in protest before they were promptly replaced with Faces from two of the earliest countries to have seconded Grace's nomination—was the appointment of Martine as Central Committee liaison to the Defense Committee.

“This is a reminder that the International Assembly has not punished Norway, only a criminal,” Grace said in a filmed statement that got released over the evening news in seventeen countries. “Norway remains a longstanding ally and valued member of the IA, and we are certain that with such a long record of working toward global peace, Norway will treat this appointment with the highest respect and consideration.”

Martine got no words in edgewise on that filmed statement. Nor on the next one, about plans for developing a new protocol for deploying peacekeeping troops.

“If she keeps me out of one more, I'm going to start taking it personally,” Martine muttered. Suyana was sitting
close enough that it might have been intentional, and she'd felt enough sympathy to say, “This position attracts warmongers. There are probably six countries lined up outside her office wanting to claim the position. She just doesn't want anyone to realize someone sensible has their hand on the button until it's too late for anyone to kill you and jump the line.”

“You don't think I'm a warmonger?”

Suyana had no answer. She wasn't used to Martine asking questions that sounded open-ended, and these days her words dried up at the strangest times around people she knew.

Martine got to speak at the annual Rally for Peace, flawlessly sincere as she read someone else's statement about peace being layers of sediment that built a world, so in the end all the discontent about her came to nothing; most things did.

× × × × × × ×

Suyana was embarrassed that she had imagined, even for a moment, Margot vanishing behind bars as punishment for her crimes. It had been what kept her staring out past the crowd the day Grace was elected—a picture of Margot lit by shadowy stripes as the door clanged shut, like one of the revival movies she and Ethan had seen at Cannes last year. It was a child's
hope. (She could just imagine Hakan's face if he'd lived to see it and she'd been fool enough to ask him—that cloud that gathered every so often, when she'd done something so stupid he was reconsidering his choice.)

In the wake of the emergency election, Margot was charged with conspiracy to commit murder, conspiracy to commit fraud, and conspiracy to disrupt government procedure. But somehow, after such a long and fruitful friendship, America couldn't find much legal fault with Margot over just one corpse. Even the countries that had wanted her gone were wary of any precedent that could come back to haunt them; this was a circumspect group. They objected just enough to make sure her removal from the public sphere would be too permanent to make good on any spite. She might have had to go to prison for the murder conspiracy if the UARC had agreed to bear witness, but Suyana had known as soon as they read the list of charges that she wouldn't. To prove Margot knew about the bombing ahead of time, they'd have to track down Chordata, and an investigation of Chordata would turn up Suyana's name.

She swallowed a stone, and shook her head, and when Magnus looked at her long enough, she realized someone would need a reason and managed, “Our country's been through so much, the last thing I want
is for us to look like this is petty revenge. We put our faith in the International Assembly's judicial procedure and thank the world for their support.”

The statement got on the evening news in five languages. Her reputation was spreading.

After the closed-door trial, so short they didn't even pretend not to have come to a deal beforehand, Margot was barred from public service. She was serving a sentence for fraud, under house arrest in her Paris apartment for ten years. She had retained her personal aide—on the civilian side—and her private chef, who was forbidden from speaking to Margot and received her instructions through the aide. The two guards stationed outside her door wore suits rather than uniforms, out of respect for the residents in her historic-landmark building.

If you wanted to go see her, all you had to do was have your name on a list. Suyana's dress had a skirt like a bell, but the guard at the door only patted her thighs once from the outside, not quite looking at her, and went back to his conversation. She could have stored a pistol three different places and still made it inside. There were probably no cameras, then, to review their security performance and interrupt Margot's privacy.

She could kill Margot and both the guards, and be gone before anyone knew what had happened.

In the first moment Margot saw Suyana, she looked as if she had the same concerns. Her hands curled around the arms of her easy chair (Suyana thought of Li Zhao), and she shifted her weight a little forward, so it would be easier to stand in case Suyana started shooting.

“You can sit back down,” Suyana said. “I've never needed a gun to deal with you.”

Margot raised an eyebrow. “So it's going to be one of those visits.”

“I've never made a visit like this.”

“You will,” Margot said, indicating a chair opposite her absently, a hostess gesture that had yet to die. “Now that Grace has saddled you with the official title, you'll have to make official visits to endless people in disgrace to decide if they're enemies of the state. Always a mistake to be transparent. I only had to visit people worth my time.”

“Maybe someday I'll visit one of those.”

Margot laughed like a door unlocked. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

The chair Margot had offered had no arms. Suyana sat in one that did, let her fingers drape off the edges.

“I wanted to know when you first got involved with them.”

“The attack on the mining office. It suggested a mole in the UARC delegation.”

“But they never would have just let you
join up.”

“If you want to be in this job for long, you'll learn how to be the sort of person people approach. They found me when the first plans were being drawn up for the joint research facilities.”

“So those were bait.”

A flicker of surprise. “No. They're conservation efforts that look good to the press. God knows the IA needs it. Chordata just approached me because they think like you do. I let them, that was all. Their missteps are tragic. You're well matched.”

Margot had probably done her a favor. If they really turned on her as soon as they had another avenue of information from someone they should have suspected, it was because they were looking for a replacement, not an addition. Suyana had outlived their loyalty. Just as well it was over.

Suyana was careful to avoid any mention of herself; it seemed important to be as far from this as possible. “And then you just let it burn?”

Margot half lifted a hand like she was dropping garbage. “They're less expensive than you think, and I didn't expect you to turn to stone with Chordata. Something had to make you look guilty. Early results that came in from the facility were promising, though—the program should be continued there. I'm sure Grace can help you.”

Suyana's throat had swollen; she had to force a breath
to get the words out—a mistake, the wrong time to ask for something when you had nothing to give, but it was too late. “How long after you killed Hakan did you realize the mole was really me, that first time?”

It took a moment for the silence to settle; Margot's expression was so foreign that Suyana couldn't name it as pity until the center of her chest had already started caving in.

“He knew it was only a matter of time,” Margot said eventually, like it helped—kindly, like it helped. “Every handler who chooses their own delegate gets myopic about them. He'd always wanted someone to rise.”

And she had. He had been her check, and he had been removed, and this was what she'd become. (In some corner of her mind where nothing mattered, she wondered if Hakan had guessed what she'd been willing to hollow out just to lighten the load for the reach upward.)

She thought about asking where the body was, but even if Margot knew, she didn't want to hear it. It would be like asking if Margot remembered Li Zhao from twenty years ago just to see if she flinched. The body was where it was. You can't bring it with you. Keep going. Reach up and pull.

“So you tried to kill me? Twice?”

“I thought this time, with you, Hakan might be on to something.” She glanced around her pretty prison.
“I was right.”

Three knuckles cracked against the arms of her chair. Don't lean forward, she thought, whatever you do. “Why couldn't you just fucking leave me alone?”

“Suyana. You've been a terrorist agent for a decade. They didn't even have to wait for you to make it to the IA to recruit you. Was I supposed to trust your mercy and good sense?”

She wanted Margot in a prison. She wanted cement walls and a gated door and a long corridor empty of inmates so that Margot would hear no human voice but hers for the next ten years, and every time Suyana turned her back, Margot would have to decide if today was the day she begged.

“Who else have you disappeared?”

One corner of her mouth ticked up, dropped. “I've been in the IA thirty years.”

“And now?”

It was both sides this time, curling up like smoke. “Oh, I'm just a private citizen. That body count's yours now.” Shadow crawled across the green carpet in front of Suyana, until Margot's apartment looked like the edge of the sea.

(Suyana had hung placid in the water as Grace took her seat. Suyana had stretched a hundred threads with stingers at the end of them; she'd asked Bo how you hired killers.

The police had found Columbina a few weeks back. Mugging gone sour, they'd
said. They'd never found who did it.

“I'm concerned about Columbina,” Grace had started a week later, and when Suyana said, “Don't be,” Grace had understood, and looked at Suyana the way she'd looked when Suyana had promised to put her at the head of the table and keep her there. Suyana suspected it was the only way Grace would ever see her again.

Margot would understand, when they talked about it. It would happen someday; who else did Suyana have?)

“I have to say, if you plan to make it very long, Miss Sapaki, I would suggest a little subtlety.”

She'd gotten everything she wanted from Margot without any subtlety at all, but that wasn't something you brought to someone's attention when they were giving you information. Poisonous knowledge was still knowledge. She pressed the side of her tongue in between the wide comfort of her molars until the skin gave way.

By the time she was calm again, it was too long a pause to fill with a cutting remark. She could have blown up in temper and sworn never to come back, just to give Margot the satisfaction the next time she came, but that would require a better liar than Suyana was. Martine could do it, maybe; Kipa could do it so well no one would ever find out she'd been playacting. But Margot had apparently always been beyond Suyana's ability to fool.

So she stood up and left without a word or a look behind
her. There was no convincing her this was the last time (Margot had too much information Suyana wanted, and it would be doled out until the day her sentence ended), but let Margot wonder how long it would be before she came back—whether she was leaving in shame or in anger or if something had suddenly occurred to her that would burn someone's tenure to the ground. Let Margot decide how much she'd have to give up next time to get Suyana to stay.

No point in making a scene. Margot was a resource. This was a conservation effort.

She picked the splinters from under her fingernails before anyone else got home.

× × × × × × ×

Grace sat at the meeting room table in the chair closest to the door, next to Martine. Suyana sat where she could see all the angles of entry; no point pretending it wasn't her place. Kipa came in a few moments later and said something in Grace's ear before she took her seat and pulled out her tablet. Kipa must have a new contact too. Suyana couldn't ask her. Kipa hadn't looked at her in weeks. It didn't matter.

“Where do we stand with Argentina?”

“Hello to you, too, Suyana,” said Grace, with a smile and a glance at Martine.

“Hello, Grace. I'm concerned about Argentina. They were late to stand up for you during the vote, and since then
they've gone suspiciously quiet on the floor. I want to make sure they're not regretting their vote. We can't afford any sense that people could be drawn into some other recall vote on the side.”

“I'm sure not,” said Grace, but this time when she looked at Martine, Martine looked at Suyana and then out the window, and said, “They have been quiet.”

“I'll schedule a dinner as soon as I can,” said Kipa, scrolling through.

“Not tonight,” said Martine. “She's having dinner with me.”

Grace laughed. Suyana didn't know why; Martine was dead serious.

Kipa was smiling. “Well—she knows you, Martine, and she's so busy.”

“I bet,” said Martine.

“I want to make sure everyone feels they're being heard.”

“Sure.”

“So maybe we could look at next week?”