“Here,” the Auditor said, stopping in front of one of the remnant stands. Two junior staffers flanked it. Kiem hadn’t noticed before, but the Auditor’s eye-covering took on a different aspect this close to remnants: a new element crept into the swirling field. It looked like a color, but Kiem’s brain interpreted it not as visible light but as a sharp taste in the back of his mouth. The Auditor turned to Vaile. There was no way of telling where he was looking, but Kiem was for some reason sure he had acknowledged him and Jainan. “Prince Vaile, if you would step forward.”
Vaile let the hem of her skirts fall back to the floor and moved toward the stand. It was the largest remnant, big enough that Kiem couldn’t have fitted his arms around it, and seemed to be made of hundreds of metal sheets melting into each other. Kiem recognized the unpleasant prickling down his back from the ceremony back on Iskat, along with the horrible feeling there might be someone behind you. The stand was surrounded by a bubble of light.
Vaile regarded the remnant like it had personally tried to sabotage her reputation with the Emperor. “I recognize this one,” she said. “General Fenrik provided it. The Tau field?”
The Auditor laid a hand on the remnant, reaching through the force field as if it weren’t there. The remnant reacted immediately, sharp light running in waves over its surface and clustering hungrily around his hand. His face shield went pure black as he stood there for a long moment, light running around and over his fingers.
“Auditor?” Vaile said, with what Kiem felt was commendable composure.
The Auditor’s face turned to her, returning to its normal state. “This is the biggest find we have had from a system as small as yours in quite a while,” he said. “I’ve seen the designs you submitted for a therapy machine—a sorely misplaced idea, but even if you were running it continuously, it should barely have drained any of the remnant’s energy. I should not be able to touch a sample like this, even with assistive tech, and stay within the parameters of my own mind.”
“But you are,” Jainan said evenly. “So?”
“This is a fake,” the Auditor said.
“That’s not possible,” Vaile said. “It’s been under guard the whole time.”
The Auditor gestured to his junior staffers. One of them took out a tool that seemed to be a cutting wheel on a handle, spinning lazily. It looked too slow to do anything, but its rim glowed violet. As the staffer brought it down to touch the remnant, the remnant split, like wood beneath an axe. The two halves crumbled gently away from each other, falling off the stand, and froze in midair where they hit the force field.
A small, dense shard clattered to the stand. It was the size of Kiem’s thumb.
“That is the only legitimate remnant,” the Auditor said coolly. “A shard nestled in a clever fake, enough to simulate some of the effects. We have discovered fourteen other fakes among the materials submitted to us.”
“Why would anyone fake a remnant?” Kiem said.
Vaile pinched the bridge of her nose. “I assume so they could remove the real ones without the Resolution noticing,” she said. “I cannot think why anyone would want multiple remnants.”
“Some of the smaller ones have been carved up and used to fake the effect of larger remnants,” the Auditor said. “My staff have now tested all of them. Your Emperor wanted to speak to me, Prince Vaile. Tell her I will have the current location of the remnants, or there will not be a treaty.”
Vaile stood like a statue, her expression suddenly opaque.
“Hang on,” Kiem said. “There can’t just not be a treaty. I know you had concerns about Taam and Thea, but we have an answer. We were going to give you an answer.”
The Auditor was no longer paying attention to any of them. He had turned back to the tiny remnant, holding it in his hand as his face shield turned black. It was like watching someone in religious communion.
“Excuse me,” Vaile said.
“The Auditor has laid down terms,” one of the junior staffers said, politely gesturing them to step away. “Please inform the Emperor, Prince Vaile. He will speak to you when you have an update.”
“Wait a moment,” Kiem said helplessly, but there didn’t seem to be anything they could do. They had no way to persuade or bribe or blackmail the Auditor; it was like trying to persuade the weather.
Vaile jerked her head to indicate they should leave. “I will deal with this,” she said, sounding uncannily like the Emperor. She eyed the glossy, closed group of Resolution staff, obviously discarded further argument as pointless, and strode off. Presumably she had a direct line to call the Emperor.
Kiem and Jainan let the Resolution staffers shepherd them away from the Auditor. Kiem felt stunned, as if the floor under his feet had just opened onto hard vacuum.
“Those remnants must be found,” Jainan said tensely. “The entire Taam investigation is pointless if the Resolution uses this to void the treaty.”
“Right,” Kiem muttered. Their voices seemed to echo too loudly in the Observatory Hall. “The Emperor will have the station turned upside down.”
“She would have to start searching on all the planets the fakes came from,” Jainan said. “That fake was not a five-minute job. Someone planned this.”
Kiem rubbed the back of his head. “What do we do?” he said. “I’m out of ideas, Jainan.”
“I have nothing yet,” Jainan said, his voice clipped, but it sounded more like frustration than panic. Even that gave Kiem some hope.
Kiem was distracted by the sudden chiming of his wristband. “Bel?”
Jainan frowned. “Isn’t she off the clock? I thought she went to the bar.”
Kiem checked the message. “She wants to meet up,” he said. “She’s flagged it urgent. I’ll see what’s up.”
“I’ll leave you to sort it out,” Jainan said slowly. “There’s something I want to see about Gairad’s work.”
As they left, there was a flash from behind them. The Auditor turned. As he opened his hand, the remnant appeared, shattered to pieces. His expression was something like disgust. He shook his head at his staff and stalked away from the remnants and the Observation Hall, disappearing into the closed Resolution offices already established in the bowels of the station. Kiem had a feeling they wouldn’t see him emerging any time soon.
* * *
Kiem left Jainan to his project and made his way to the Transit Module, where Bel had given her location. It was unlike Bel to be cryptic in her messages.
Bel was standing in front of the huge light-partition that marked the entrance to the shuttle docks when Kiem came out of the airlocks and hurried over to her. Everything was not okay. He looked at the vacuum capsule hovering beside her, and her travel coat, and the expression on her face, and said, “Oh, shit. You heard from home.”
“My grandmother,” Bel said. “I need to go, today. Now, if it’s okay.” She brushed her braids back from her face, then did it again when they immediately fell back. “I don’t have time to arrange cover. I’m sorry.”
The investigation and remnants suddenly seemed much less urgent. “Hey, no, it’s okay! Have you got a shuttle ticket? Can I get it? Should I call your family and say you’re coming? Can I—”