Page 103 of The Dark Mirror

‘And Nashira is keeping a sharp eye on this, but we don’t know exactly what that could mean. That’s what Warden was saying.’

‘In a nutshell.’

‘You need to ask him more.’

‘I will. Just … let him have a couple of days, Nick. You’d give him that if he was human.’

‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’ He turned back to his laptop. ‘I know you’ve already sat through a lot of prodding and poking, but I need to reassure Command that you’re fit to work after the last assignment. It’s standard practice. Can you show me where you’re hurt?’

I nodded and took off my jersey.

Nick examined the bruising and checked for breaks, asking before he touched me. When he was done, he sent me to the body scanner. I held still as a band of light passed over me.

‘Go on,’ I said. Nick studied the results. ‘How bad is it?’

‘Nothing is broken, and I can’t see any spinal or cranial injuries. You were lucky,’ he said. ‘I’m more concerned about the old scaphoid fracture in your left wrist. I’ll need to speak to a specialist, but I suspect the tissue in your bone is dying – avascular necrosis, to use the proper term. At this point, it probably needs surgery. How long since you fell on it?’

‘Over a year.’ I stepped away from the scanner. ‘Will surgery fix it?’

‘It might help with the pain, but you should have had a cast on it for months after the break.’

‘Arcturus did his best.’

‘But you could have told me how much it was hurting in London,’ he said. I pressed the sore hollow at the base of my thumb. ‘You have to start taking better care of yourself, Paige.’

‘I haven’t exactly had time for a spa retreat, Nick.’

‘That isn’t what I mean. You can’t help that you’ve been under stress, but you can’t run on coffee and nerve.’

‘I’ve been trying to rest.’

‘You’ve been sleeping more because the white aster hasn’t given you much choice. I want you to do it of your own accord.’ He closed the scan results. ‘I need to think about how I’m going to report this to Command. If I give you a brace for your wrist, will you wear it?’

‘I promise. By the way, do they have contraceptive injections out here?’ I asked. ‘My period came back in Paris. I don’t want it to surprise me when I’m in the middle of something.’

‘Yes. They have one that lasts for six months.’

Nick went to one of the cabinets and brought a syringe back. He gave me the dose in my upper arm.

‘Thanks,’ I said, reaching for my jersey.

‘You’re welcome.’ He disposed of the syringe. ‘Now, let’s get you that brace.’

Once Nick was done with me, I found a workstation and accessed Protean. The splinted brace on my left arm kept the wrist straight, but allowed me to use my fingers as I searched for news on President Sala.

She had a long and detailed entry on Omnia. Her official picture showed a woman in her early sixties, thick black hair rippling down to her shoulders, a confident smile on her face.

Beatrice Sala(born 27 March 1997) is an Italian politician and former archaeologist who assumed office asPresident of Italyin May 2041. She previously served asMinister for Health(2031–2034) andMinister for Culture(2034–2041). She is known for resuming the controversial reconstruction of theRoman Forum(seeForum Project), and for her strong opposition to theRepublic of Scion.

A vocal critic of Scion, as Verca had described. I dug up a few articles. There was speculation on what sort of illness was keeping her from her public duties, but the media seemed far more interested in the Prime Minister, and Rinaldi appeared to be going about his business as usual.

The golden cord gave a sudden tremor. Arcturus had woken, then cut himself off again.

So be it. He was entitled to his privacy. I looked back at Omnia, but the cord had shaken my concentration. I returned to my room for a jacket before I left the building. Perhaps some fresh air would do me good.

For an hour, I explored the city on foot. The rain had stopped, and the fog was thicker in its wake. Venice was silvered and mysterisedby it; I could barely see the tops of some buildings. I wondered if the Netherworld was anything like this – there and not there, adrift in itself. I found a public garden to the north, then went to see a landmark called the Bridge of Sighs. At last, I chose a bench on the Riva degli Schiavoni and watched boats passing by.

All the while, I thought of Arcturus. I could have gone anywhere in the city, but I had strayed to the district where he was staying. I wished I had the courage to go back to the apartment.

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