Free Killbox (2010) by Ann Aguirre Page A

job. I hope you know that."
    "You're biased. Anything else on the agenda, Jax?"
    My smile widens into a grin. "Maybe."
    "Shall we talk about it in private?"
    But in our quarters, there isn't much talking tonight.
    .CLASSIFIED-TRANSMISSION.
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    Mr. Leviter:
    I agree to your terms. In anyone else, I would call your confidence arrogance, but I've seen what you can do. If the royalists on Tarnus had the wit to employ you, I have no doubt they would still be in power. Your resume is . . . impressive, to say the least. I hope you can turn the tide for us, because as Mary knows, we can use the help.
    As you requested, I've set up an alias for you on world. You'll be slipping into the identity of Corin Underwood, a minor Conglomerate official. He died off world, but I've managed to suppress that news, and when you arrive, you will take over his life. Naturally, you'll need some cosmetic work to make it feasible, so I'm attaching an image. You'll want to take it to your own surgeon; I trust you know someone who does good work. From the tone of your letter, I collect you've done this sort of thing before. I know--I'm not to ask about it, and so I won't.
    We'll conduct the negotiations for your salary after you arrive. You'll find I can be a very generous benefactor, but it would be wrong of you to assume you can get your way in all things simply because I have done what I must to get you on the Conglomerate payroll. The simple fact is: We cannot afford to have you working against us.
    Corin Underwood has recently been appointed Minister of Diplomatic Relations in absentia. The position awaits your arrival. Is that nebulous enough? I thought it best to give no indications of your function, even in the title. That one should permit you to travel off world as needed.
    I'll expect your first status report once you've had a chance to get settled in your new life. Truthfully--and as you can probably tell by the image--Underwood was a bit of a nebbish. I spent no time with the little weasel when he was alive, so you and I will not confer in person either. I know you function best independently, and I'll let you do so. Information will help us win this war, if anything can, and our fate is in your hands.
    Mary grant you grace as you make your way, sir.
    Tarn

    .ATTACHMENT-CORIN_UNDERWOOD-FOLLOWS.
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    .Y.
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    CHAPTER 11
    The days fall into a routine on station.
    Mostly, I work with Argus in the simulator. I train him longer hours than the Academy endorsed, and we do a lot more practical application than theoretical study. Maybe I'm the minority, but I learn things a lot faster by doing them than by reading about how. Argus seems all right with my methods.
    By the end of the first week, he has a better grasp of the process than I could've ever expected. But it's taking a toll on both of us. He looks tired, even in the mornings now. Maybe I should give the kid a few days off.
    Today when we break, he looks almost done in, as if he hasn't been sleeping well. And instead of excusing himself, he hangs around the cockpit. Well, I can take a hint.
    "Something you need?"
    "I was wondering . . . do you ever dream about it?"
    "Sometimes," I admit. He doesn't need to tell me he means grimspace. Only one thing can affect a navigator this way--and it's not a love affair. "Not as much as I used to."
    March has something to do with that, frankly. He takes up space in my head, leaving less room for other things. In this case it's good; I can't fixate on my addiction the way I used to. He doesn't let me. But most jumpers lack that buffer.
    "I have these dreams," Argus says. "First I can't sleep for seeing the colors, then once I drop off, they're all I see, and I'm convinced there's something past the light. Something I need to see, so I can understand everything."
    I must