Balkan settled into the stretch aeroflyer which could hold ten comfortably. Leather seats wrapped the interior. Governor Regent Lazard and Secretary Balkan sat facing forward, sealed in the hermetic cocoon. They spoke freely, the TexPax aerodyne sanitized of bugs and trackers.

"I'm glad we have this opportunity to talk in person," Balkan said.

"Of course, I'm at your service," Lazard replied.

"Has Chairmark Drexel said anything more about my candidacy?"

"Your candidacy shall be made public in two weeks' time during an event held in Poseidon's Crown."

Balkan stiffened. "I wasn't informed of the venue."

"Leland Drexel is hosting a gala and you're the belle of the ball, Victor. Every global paramountcy and its delegation, including this custodial federal government. Yes, the White House will be there. Imagine the President's face when he hears the decision."

"I was hoping we could spare him the embarrassment and do this with discretion."

"Isn't it better to take bad news from friends than strangers?" Lazard said.

Balkan smirked, looking out the window of the speeding craft as it ascended against a sheet of rain and banked in a shallow turn. "What's really in play, Dom? The gala is mere window dressing. He wouldn't throw one just for my announcement."

"If you must know, it's Conclave maneuvering, of course."

"Ah, where do we stand?"

"TexPax's been guaranteed votes from Pacifica. It didn't cost us much."

"The rest of the Big Five isn't so accommodating, I'm sure."

"We've made considerable concessions to Gulf-Con and AEL," Lazard said. "If only one of them swings our way, we'd have a Conclave majority locked up."

"And Midland will try to block, naturally."

Lazard sat stone-like, his neck rigid as if held in a brace. Balkan wondered if the GR was averse to flying.

"Naturally."

"Who's heading the Midland delegation?" Balkan asked.

"The Snow Owl, backed by their General Counsel, Emile Vargas."

"I heard Augustine is formidable."

"Indeed. But, she has little room to maneuver. There is only one concession worth considering: Red City for the White House."

"Except Drexel wants both the cake and the figurines."

"You see the dilemma then," Lazard said without emotion. "This gala is the final round of our tug-o-war, which I have the honor of being lead puller for our side."

"I envy you."

"So tell me, how's the international front going? I'm concerned about our Asian partners."

"Quieter than Red City," Balkan said, knowing he'd have to offer some intelligence morsel to this important oligarch. As a former TexPax Viceroy before taking political office, Balkan had always been junior to Lazard, from prep school to the Ivies and up the paramountcy ladder. Even now, the Secretary gave Regent Lazard deference that was innate. "Well, of course, the Asian paramountcies are stirring."

"Which ones? We have five in North America; Asia has fifteen."

"Dà lóng, the Great Dragon. They're leaning to fill the void in Venezuela. Cyber traffic and hacks confirmed an aggressive posture, which in all practical purposes, sends a clear message for us to keep out."

"The Chinese are in bed with Brasilia, everyone knows that."

"Yes, a friendly government in Caracas would have put a wedge in the Sino-Brazil bloc, but it's too late for tears now. The campaign is a total write-off. And a costly one for us."

Lazard nodded stiffly. "The Chairmark is putting our Caracas facilities up for sale to the Mexicans who're dumb enough to bite." Both men laughed. "As for the rest, Lloyd's would indemnify our losses. We'll be okay. Anything else around the world?"

"As I gave POTUS my brief this morning -- Europe is quiet. Africa has their usual petty regimes and civil spats but that's of no concern."

"Yet, what is of great concern has to do with Ian Moreau -- just before his death."

"Yes?"

"He planned to defect to Midland, I'm told," Lazard said.

"You're well informed." Balkan glanced at the Regent.

"Most disturbing. You can imagine how we're taking this news in Dallas-Austin . . ."

Balkan nodded knowingly.

"Because no one defects without bringing something to the table."

"Project Carnivora," Balkan conceded, beating the Regent to the punch.

"Shameful." Lazard exhaled, the hiatus pregnant. "Did you retrieve the data?"

How would he know? I only got the head yesterday.

"There was no cranial storage unit," Balkan reported, keeping his face even. "It's been absconded."

The senior Regent sat unmoved, staring ahead. Balkan realized then that Lazard all this time was hooked into a HUD VR window. No telling with whom he was linked. Could even be Drexel himself. "Carnivora cannot be allowed to get to the open market. Not only would we lose a substantial R&D investment, but if it gets out we are using animal DNA to augment humans, there will be backlash from every conservative and religious corner the likes we haven't seen since the Inquisition. This would jeopardize Conclave, Mr. Secretary."

Balkan didn't reply, though he began to sweat.

"What are you doing about it?"

"With due respect, I don't ask how you run your territory, do I?"

"Fair enough."

"Just know we are doing everything possible to retrieve the merchandise," Balkan said, irritated, toying with his collar.

"I suspect you don't have to look far for the culprits."

Balkan shook his head. "The people I used don't know what Moreau carried."

Lazard smirked in a condescending manner. "You presume much, Mr. Secretary. Occam's Razor -- the simplest solution is usually the right one."

"I have another theory -- what if Midland acquired the data? They've been running interference against my efforts."

Regent Lazard shook his head. "You're mistaken. Chicago doesn't have it," he said matter-of-factly.

"You are so sure," Balkan said, the tone flushed with smugness.

"Do I ask how you run your world?" Lazard returned the snip. "Trust me when I say Midland does not have possession. Not yet, anyway. For one, the tech is unique and hard to conceal. Whoever has it would need a top-rated lab prepared in advance and stocked with the necessary equipment, not to mention personnel trained in the subject material. We would have been alerted, Mr. Balkan."

"Is that so?"

"In fact, there's little going on we don't know in Chicago." Lazard sighed. "And sadly, they can say the same about us. Greed breeds spies like flies." Lazard paused and gave Balkan a sudden glower. "The Chairmark is concerned, as am I. Locate and retrieve our property."

"The situation is being addressed. Rest assured," Balkan said quickly, his temperature rising. First, it was Moreau, now his own man -- Milo Lockheart. Balkan's problems were compounding, all due to thieves. Retrieving Carnivora became priority. Liquidating Cerberus seemed a distant second just now.