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a grave mistake. Not just because of the Ascendants, but because of the inevitable incursions from the world at large. What good was knowledge if it could not be protected?

At least one sub-faction, led by Dr. Corwin, understood this. He employed a bodyguard named Zawadi who had achieved an almost mythical status among the Ascendants. She had taken many of their lives over the years.

Like any great warrior, Jianyu desired to test himself against the very best, and Zawadi’s fearsome reputation only fueled his desire.

Let us see whose philosophy of battle will be victorious in the end.

While Jianyu believed he was the better fighter, the honor of battle on its own was a relic of history. He had a powerful ally he would not hesitate to use, and which set him apart: his sister. She was loyal beyond question, better and smarter than her counterparts, and always connected to him via synced chip implants.

Together, with their combination of military prowess and technological expertise, they presented a fighting duo without equal.

Relaxed and focused, he finished off with a nice stretch and a bio-cocktail from the fridge, then headed upstairs to shower. When on assignment, Jianyu’s firearm of choice was a black semiautomatic pistol made of lightweight polymers, which folded to resemble a laptop battery. He also carried a serrated push dagger and a custom-made Japanese switch-sword, and wore body armor so light it barely weighed more than a pair of wool sweaters. Embedded beneath his skin were tiny retractable spikes at his wrists and ankles, which could pierce an eye or slash through a vein as a last resort, a palm trigger synced to his pistol, and a few other nasty surprises.

After assembling his gear in a tactical bag disguised to resemble a tourist backpack, Jianyu took the elevator to the garage, where his motorcycle was parked.

As the garage door opened, letting in a flood of moonlight and exposing the abandoned warehouses across the street, Daiyu stepped into view from a darkened corner.

“Sister!” Jianyu said as he strapped his pack onto the back of his bike. “What are you doing in the dark?”

“Thinking.”

“About what?”

Dressed in a black leather bodysuit outlined in silver, she stepped forward to hand him a paper box wrapped with a neat red ribbon. The aromas of fresh pastry and red bean paste mingled with the bergamot and myrrh of her perfume. “Moon cakes for your journey,” she said.

He accepted the treat—his favorite—with a laugh. “You take care of me just like Mother used to do.”

Instead of returning his laughter, she regarded him with a stoic expression. At first he thought she was despondent—it was always a sad occasion when they separated for a mission—but then he saw the shadow behind her gaze, and understood a different feeling was in play.

He set down his helmet and cupped her narrow chin in his hand. “Of what are you so afraid, sister? Zawadi? The Archon?”

“Both.” She fingered the jade key around her neck, and her eyes flicked to her bio-bracelet. “But mostly I fear the future.”

“Why?” he said to humor her, for he gave no credence to her eerie digital oracle. “What did you see?”

She stared right through him, and he could never remember seeing her this concerned. “A veil, Jianyu. I saw a shadow over everything, over the sun, the moon, the stars. Over you. I don’t know what any of it means. I just know the world is about to change.”

CartagenaSummer 1970

After deducing the rearranged letters in the name Nataja Tromereo also spelled Ettore Majorana, and against his better judgment, Dr. Corwin let himself fall asleep in the bed next to Anastasia Kostos, the woman he had met at the bar the night before. He was certain she was a member of the Ascendants and sent to derail him in some way. Perhaps her job was to let Hans inside the room, though the heavy wooden door to the suite had a double-sided dead bolt and a latch chain, both of sturdy design. The balcony was less secure, but a clandestine entry would require a precipitous climb in full view of the street.

So, while he knew he should have stayed awake all night or seen Ana to the door, he was in desperate need of a few hours’ rest, and couldn’t bring himself to part with her lustrous brown hair and honey-smooth skin.

Before he fell asleep, he hid the key to the dead bolt and set the alarm to go off at dawn. As the first rays slanted into the room and fell across Ana’s high cheekbones, Dr. Corwin stirred and blinked the sleep away. He needed to get a head start on the day. No doubt Hans had talked to Alvaro by now and would soon figure out the anagram.

When he tried to extricate himself from Ana’s embrace, she stirred and curled into him, nibbling on his ear and stroking his chest with her nails. This pleasurable turn of events led to another session of lovemaking that left him just as breathless as the night before.

“I expect I’ll never see you again,” he said when he forced himself out of bed and began putting on his trousers.

Ana sat up and pulled the covers to her waist, leaving her full breasts exposed. “Why say such a terrible thing? A gentleman would look me up in New York as soon as he returns.”

“Don’t you mean to say if I return?”

“You shouldn’t be so pessimistic.”

“I don’t believe you or Comrade Hans has my best interests at heart. Or even my continued longevity.”

“Darling. Really. The things you say.”

He was starting to get irritated, both at her casual duplicity and at his own growing attraction. “Why don’t we part ways with a little honesty, and therefore dignity? I can’t say I wish you success in Cartagena, but as for the two of us, I couldn’t imagine a better way to spend an evening.”

“It was quite dreamy, wasn’t it? How long will you be staying? Maybe we could have an

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