Chapter Nine
CHAPTER NINE
“What are you talking about?” Olline balked, leaning back, suddenly wary of being alone with Casimir. She shook her head and rubbed absently at her arms. “The terms of my contract were clear. I’d a legalese bot go through every line of fine print. I know exactly what my job—”
He cut her off with a long-suffering sigh. “Yes, yes. You’re doing everything you’re contracted to do. Correct. But do you know who is on the committee overseeing your department? The committee that decided, ‘why yes, now would be a perfect time to overhaul our cold case evidence storage even though there have been no security threats to that department’?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. Her body tensed at his sarcasm, not appreciating it when he was, apparently, telling her she had been too trusting of a corporation to be honest with her. In trusting people to have her best interest in mind. Again.
His shoulders slumped slightly, and a hint of sympathy entered his voice. “Do you know the people on the board? And who placed them there?”
Her body went stiff, guessing at what, or who, he would say, but hoping she was wrong. Casimir put his hands on his hips, shaking his head slowly. “This is precisely why they gave the contract to someone not from Antal, Tav. You already knew Etzel Straub was involved. But I assure you, he’s much worse than a shadow figure who merely signs your paychecks. Etzel has his fingers all over the department you’re contracted with. He’s used them for over a century now as his own private blackmail racket. How else do you think he’s guaranteed that he stays in power for as long as he has? You didn’t truly think he’d been elected honestly all this time?”
Olline’s jaw dropped slightly, grasping for words as the picture Casimir painted came into focus. Lightheadedness overwhelmed her. Her stomach dropped as dread rose in her. She had done it again. Been gullible enough to believe the job of her dreams hadn’t been too good to be true. But if Casimir was right . . . and why wouldn’t he be? Karter had confirmed it already: Etzel had been the one responsible for hiring her, even if his name had appeared nowhere in the document itself. Her spine bent, shielding her as she shuffled to her feet, trying desperately to hide her embarrassment.
“Oh, my dear,” he said, clicking his tongue in pity, misreading her discomfiture. “You really are an idealistic creature, aren’t you? No politician is so popular, so committed to their district within any city-state, that they could manage to remain undefeated over decades of election cycles. This is especially true of Etzel. He’s remained in power this long by corrupting every system and influential person around him. Etzel is too old and too cunning to leave an election up to democracy, ” Casimir said with a bitter laugh. “He is, after all, the only seersha in all of Antal’s long history that will save this city-state. From what, only Etzel seems to know. Regardless, Under Senator Straub has created a system where Antal will be a utopia or some nonsense, but only as long as he can be the one to shepherd us plebeians into a new biomagitech age.”
Olline crossed her arms over her chest and squeezed, digging her fingers into her ribcage. “Don’t talk to me like I’m some na?ve child, Casimir,” she snarled. “Of course, I know there’s corruption in every system.” And she knew that, she honestly did. But she had hoped, and had let that hope bloom so big it overshadowed her common sense. She needed to stop doing that. Stop being so dazzled and trusting.
Olline gave her head a little shake, trying to banish the chill of dread. “But the whole point of bringing me in was to ensure that those who were taking bribes weren’t involved in transferring the old evidence and cold case files over.”
“Perhaps on paper,” he breathed, a mean little glint in his eyes. “Security theater is very important to Etzel, after all. Bring in an outside party to look above reproach,” Casimir continued, waving a hand, the motion dripping sarcasm. “When in reality Etzel has already bribed the people who drafted your contract, who monitor your payment. All probably long before he even had the listing sent out.” Olline stared at him blankly. Everything he said felt real, but her mind rebelled against it, refusing to believe that she had been duped into playing a role in someone else’s scheme.
Casimir took a step closer and moved like he would hold her hands. Perhaps he meant it to be comforting, but the last thing Olline wanted was to be touched by someone patiently telling her she had been an unwitting fool. She recoiled, and Casimir stopped moving so fast it looked like someone had pulled the plug on him.
He lowered his hands slowly, his eyes dropping to the ground a heartbeat later. “Those files? That evidence you’re moving into a secure, fancy new server? They’ll be transferred directly to Under Senator Straub as soon as you’re finished.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head as her mind reeled. The gorgeous view of the stars above and the greenhouse around her losing their magic with every breath she took. “That can’t be true. I’m going to upgrade all the server rooms—”
Casimir wagged a long, elegant finger at her. “No, Tav. You could have your contract extended if this first ‘trial’ goes well. Those were your words. But I know for a fact that won’t happen.”
She turned pleading, disbelieving eyes on him. Her expression screamed “how”, even though her throat was too tight to choke the word out.
He ran a hand through his hair, his wavy curls twisting around his fingers, and he had the grace to look away in shame. “Sub-basement thirteen, server room two-hundred and twenty-three, is where Etzel stores his personal files.” He noted her look of disbelief, and his tone became gentle once more. “Think, Olline. Why have you start there? Why that room? Why give such a large contract to one person? Why claim there’s room for extension when that job would be far too large for a lone contractor, no matter how brilliant and talented that freelance contractor was?” Casimir took a deep breath and murmured, his voice strangled, “Why else would I have been there on your first day?”
Olline’s stomach sank, pulling her down until her knees wobbled. Casimir was there in a flash, silent as ever as he moved. He eased her to the ground and Olline had to fight back hot tears of frustration. Once again, she and her work were being taken advantage of. Once again, she found herself in a position where she would be discarded once she delivered her beautiful project over to someone who had lied about its true purpose.
She licked her lips, trying to force moisture back into her mouth, and pushed away from Casimir, scooting back on her hands to put distance between them. “How could you . . . How could you know all this for certain?” She couldn’t keep the plea from her voice, desperate for him to say that maybe, just maybe, none of this was true, even when her gut said otherwise.
“You know exactly how I know all this, Olline,” he whispered, his arms limp along his side, his face downturned, red eyes hazy. “I know him better than maybe anyone. I can see his handiwork from the stratosphere. And you, Olline, are exactly the kind of person he’d bring in to hide his messes without them—you—ever knowing.”
“Someone like me?” She shook her head, and she fought the urge to pull at her hair. “What does that even mean? ”
There was a fleeting look of pity in his gaze that Olline absolutely hated. “Someone sweet and kind.” Casimir’s words trickled over her, chilling her to the marrow. After the revelations he had dumped on her, shattering the facade that she and her work were finally getting the accolades it deserved like thin glass, his kind words left her speechless.
Casimir took her silence for incredulity, as he was quick to continue, filling the void her silence birthed. “He needed someone so in love with their work that they would relish the challenge and not look beyond that. Someone who is, at their core, good and wants to give people the benefit of the doubt. Unless I’m utterly mistaken, and I don’t think I am, that’s the kind of person you are, Olline.” He reached out, and this time, when she didn’t back away, he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Etzel specializes in using people like that. Like you.”
Olline blinked slowly at him, a sour tang filling her mouth. “How could you work for someone like him, knowing all of that?”
A muscle along his perfect jawline ticked, and his deep red eyes lost their sparkle. “I don’t have a choice. Or didn’t. I don’t expect someone like you to understand.”
Her mind was still spinning, trying to accept his words as fact. “What am I supposed to do?” she whispered to herself.
“You leave. You take your brilliant devices, you sabotage the files, and you leave Antal.”
All the air fled her lungs. The contract she had so lauded as being perfectly fine came into clear focus. All the stipulations around her signing bonus, the clauses she couldn’t break without legal ramifications. The perfect apartment she wouldn’t be able to keep if her contract wasn’t extended like she had planned.
“I can’t,” she said with a dejected sigh, a numbness enveloping her body. “I can’t break my contract until the work is done or there will be, well, consequences. ” Olline rubbed a palm into her forehead, feeling a headache threatening. Cyneburg may punish breaches of contract with death occasionally, but Antal was severe in its own way. “I can’t run. Not without being dragged to court.” She shook her head, hugging her arms around her a little tighter. “The sad thing is, that’s not even the part that upsets me most. My apartment . . . It seems so small in the grand scheme of things, but I’d lose it if I don’t complete the job. There’s no whistleblower safety clause. I didn’t even insist on one because, well, why would I?” She laughed bitterly. “It’s the first place that’s truly felt like mine and if what you say is true and they were never going to extend my contract . . . I’ll lose my home .”
Olline took a deep, stabilizing breath. She had been blindsided before; this was nothing new. The difference this time was she didn’t have any pesky emotions conflicting with her options. Not that she could see what those options were yet, but that was beside the point.
“No, there has to be another way besides running.” She lifted her chin and met Casimir’s gaze. His look was unreadable as he studied her, but she didn’t care to analyze what that meant. “I’m not going to let anyone—corporation or politician—steal my work and throw me away after. I’m brilliant . I should be able to, I don’t know, find a loophole or something.” She snapped her fingers, smiling broadly and willing the rest of her body to feel the optimism she was projecting.
Casimir continued to stare at her. The moments flittering by felt like an eternity as her heart continued to hammer in her chest. Slowly, ever so slowly, Casimir seemed to come to a decision and nodded his head. “There may be a way. It’s risky, but it’s possible that we could keep your extraordinary work from being used for nefarious purposes. We just have to be clever about it. Beyond stealthy. Etzel can’t know I’m involved or—” he sucked in a breath, cutting himself off. “He just can’t know.”
Olline gave him a sarcastic smile, pushing up to her knees. “Are you thinking we blackmail the blackmailer?” She shook her head, but there was an ironic chuckle bubbling in her chest. “That sounds just as wicked as what Under Senator Straub is doing.”
Casimir’s coy smirk returned as he too got to his feet. “Well, that would’ve been the simplest course of action, yes. But, fine, we can try to be all noble about it. It just requires more thought, more time.” He gave a heavy sigh again, but his look was playful. “It sounds awful. Are you sure you don’t want the quick and dirty way?”
His words had her toes curling and Olline glanced away before the blush of her cheeks could betray her. It wasn’t Casimir’s fault that she could interpret his words another way, even if his knowing grin said otherwise.
She studied the surrounding plants, letting their earthy power and aromas clear her mind of the panic that had been clouding the edges of her focus. She hadn’t been looking into any of the files she was transferring, she had wanted to respect the privacy of those victims and families she thought the files pertained to. None of the documents had seemed like anything other than what they claimed to be.
Her previous concerns with Goswin and Lochan came back to haunt her. Had she been right? Was this how Casimir weaseled his way in so he could attach himself to her work? Or maybe Casimir was lying? Was he trying to undermine the Police and Securities Department? Or had she merely not found the documents Casimir claimed hid in the servers?
The encrypted files.
Olline groaned and buried her face in her hands, startling Casimir. “I can’t believe I forgot about those!”
Casimir tilted his head, his expression confused. Olline took another deep breath to keep her words from fumbling over one another. “I found a weird encrypted file my first day that didn’t seem to belong with the others. I was curious, so I used my administrative privileges to tell the server that particular folder needed an update and to accept it without question.” Casimir raised a brow at her, still confused. She cleared her throat, explaining as simply as she could, “Basically the fake update I created made a backdoor into the system, which let me take a peek into the folder and I found all these . . . chips. I don’t know what they’re for, but there’s dozens of them. Maybe if I can crack into them and we corrupt what’s there, that’ll be all we need to safeguard my contract while also exposing Etzel.”
“This fake update you pushed,” Casimir said slowly, as if picking his words with care, “did it already corrupt the chips?”
She scrunched her face in thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No. As long as the server and the clients—the chips in this case—are synced, it wouldn’t have done anything. Assuming all the chips are viable, so they aren’t excluded from the update anyway,” she added with a shrug. “But given the security around that encryption, I couldn’t imagine any of the chips being that old.”
“And if they were out of date?” Casimir asked, his voice a gravelly whisper.
Olline rubbed the back of her neck, considering. “Well, I guess if the server couldn’t communicate with the chips, they would probably just continue to do what they were last told to do and wouldn’t get any new instructions. Why? Does it matter?”
Casimir’s face remained as stoic as ever. If he was excited or worried about something, he didn’t share it vocally with Olline. “You truly are a brilliant little caster, aren’t you?” he said eventually, a slow smile brightening his face until it morphed into his customary smirk.
She didn’t blush this time, which was an awesome development, but smiled at him in return. “I already told you I was impressive.”
Casimir chuckled and said, “Well, Tav, I think the answer to our problems lies in that encrypted file you found. Dismantling that will be the key, and while I’m not as technically savvy as you are, I think I can help.”
Olline pressed her lips into a tight line, a knot forming in her belly. “Why would you even want to get involved?” she asked slowly, carefully. “Why tell me this at all? What’s your angle here? You have to have one. From my experience, no one helps anyone for nothing.”
Casimir’s head jerked back a little, his linen white skin paling slightly, which was actually kind of impressive. Less impressive was the way his throat bobbed before he shut his eyes and gave a slow, disbelieving shake of the head. “I told you that my involvement with Etzel isn’t exactly voluntary. I want him stopped. His web of pain and deception ripped apart forever. And if I can keep a sweet woman like you from being destroyed by Etzel at the same time? Well, the good karma certainly won’t hurt.”
Her heart sank.
He had said that, hadn’t he? That the work he did for Under Senator Straub was not by choice. Of course, he would want to help her under those circumstances. He was helping himself as much as helping her. Somehow, though, it didn’t make the sting in her chest ease any to recognize that none of this was even truly about her or keeping her safe, despite what he said. They were strangers. He had no reason to actually care about her.
“So,” she whispered, giving him a tentative smile, “should we go back to the office and bring the bastard down?”
Casimir laughed, full and deep, making his whole chest rumble. The sound was like music played by a live band, more comforting than even the swish of hundreds of leaves. “Even if we could, from a technical standpoint, dealing with Etzel still requires a delicate touch.”
“But we don’t have time,” Olline argued.
Casimir cut her off with a long, drawn-out sigh. “We have a little time, my dear. Etzel’s at a conference. While the monster’s away, the children will play or some garbage. What we can do is begin to strategize. Now won’t that be fun?”
Olline couldn’t hide her earnest expression, the excitement of a challenge. The thrill of bringing down a bad guy like a hero in a classic virtual simulator had her body humming with electricity. But all Casimir did was sit down, and lean back until his elbows propped his torso up so he could look at the magically enhanced stars above.
“But not tonight,” he stated. “Tonight, you are going to enjoy this. Enjoy Antal. I have a promise to keep, after all.”