was no sense in holding anything back from Gaspar—not when Lucca hoped the red-haired girl would tell him all this and more.
And Lucca knew how to make certain her spy would be motivated to keep the information to himself. Gaspar had no record of disappointing her in this way. It was the chief reason she had kept him imprisoned instead of un-bodying him. He was, quite simply, the best operative she’d run across in hundreds of years.
Gaspar spent several minutes consulting the information Lucca’s spies had gathered. He frowned. “The data is quite incomplete. You are asking me to infiltrate a community with no prior knowledge as to its inhabitants?”
“It is a cluster of renegades without scan chips. We know considerably less about them than we would like. That is why I’m sending you.”
“If I might make a suggestion?” queried Gaspar.
“Yes?”
“A two-step investigation is often more successful in a case such as this one,” replied Gaspar. “First, I become someone on the periphery—someone who can observe for a period of several days without drawing undue attention. Someone elderly usually works well.” Gaspar did not say aloud that if he made mistakes as an elderly person, he would be considered confused rather than suspicious . Better to not bring up mistakes with the Chancellor, although they were a natural part of his work.
“As a peripheral member of a community,” continued Gaspar, “I can ascertain who has the best access to the individuals in question.” He tapped a narrow forefinger upon the images of Pavel and Jessamyn.
“That’s an excellent suggestion,” admitted Lucca. “Major Vladim Wu will brief you on what we know of the community thus far. He may be in a position to suggest an appropriate personage as well.”
“A challenge!” Gaspar Bonaparte rubbed his hands together. “At last, a challenge. You have given me a great gift, Madam Chancellor.”
“See you do not disappoint me, Bonaparte,” said Lucca, fixing her ice-blue eyes upon the grinning man before her. “You know how I dislike disappointment.”
17
ACTING THE PART
Gaspar Bonaparte realized, as he walked in the direction of the desert village that would be his home for the next few days, that he had never actually indwelled a body this old before. Bodies weren’t allowed to age this far in the ordinary course of rebodies. Well, he was on his way to an enclave that didn’t follow the rules.
He held a withered hand out before him. The hand curled with what had to be arthritis, a condition he’d never experienced before. It hurt. He ought to have gathered a better supply of medicinals than the handful of sleep enhancers he’d stuffed in the old woman’s pockets.
Well, if he felt her pain, he could play the role better. You know this, Gaspar , he told himself. He remembered the old woman’s last words: “Gran’s not afraid of death. Go on, then, you great coward. Set me free from these aching bones.” She’d surprised him. Gaspar was used to outrageous promises and rather a lot of groveling when those whose bodies he required realized their deaths were imminent.
The old woman had neither groveled nor bargained. Accustomed to acting the part of a brave person, it rather startled Gaspar to encounter a brave person in the wild. He had filed it away, though, and would be able to incorporate this important character trait as he pretended to be Gran Odessa.
The old woman had been the perfect target: given to solitary walks at hours when others were safely abed. Gaspar had sent compliments to Major Wu for singling her out and suggesting her as Gaspar’s initial mark.
Gaspar supposed he ought to get used to gripping her pipe between his lips as well. It was the small things that could give you away, he knew. And the old woman had not removed the pipe to speak. Gaspar reached into the pocket where the pipe rested. Placing it between his teeth (or gums with stubs of teeth, really), he began to practice
Sharon Kleve, Jennifer Conner, Danica Winters, Casey Dawes