22

I suppose my face must have betrayed too much. She came on the news, again, speaking as a face for the Council of Havens - decrying the horrible act and denying all possible responsibility.

She has to do that kind of thing, I know. It still rankles a little. We're so whipped.

"Do you know her?" Angilo asked.

I must have straightened up, or something. Some part of my body language betrayed me.

"I've met her," I told him.

"And I swear," said Maurina d'Jorian, on the television screen, "that the Martian authorities will do everything in their power to investigate and apprehend the individuals that could be responsible for this crime. We guarantee our full cooperation with any Earth investigators that are sent by the United Nations."

Angilo regarded me, like he didn't believe me. Or, rather, I'm sure he believed I was telling the literal truth.

"Is she a member of Nest Haven?" he asked, eventually.

"Don't be an idiot," I snapped.

I'm not sure what he thought I meant - if d'Jorian really wasn't Nest, or if there was no way I'd ever tell him.

"I didn't know you were so high up in the echelons of Mars," commented Angilo, returning to the newspaper article he was perusing.

I gritted my teeth. "I'm surprised you don't remember her."

He looked up, startled. "What do you mean?"

"Well," I said, "she was dirtier at the time. And unconscious."

He stared at me, for a moment, in a kind of horror. "She was at Toridia?"

"Yes." I looked back to the screen. "She was at Toridia."

I didn't realize I could hurt him as badly as he can hurt me.