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This is a 2-CHAPTER UPDATE!  Chapter 2 went up exactly one minute ago, so skip back a post if you missed it!  You can read chapter 3 inline here or download the attached PDF.

Chapter 4 will come later in the month!  I'll keep you updated on the schedule.

If you've read the chapters, I'd love it if you left a comment!  It's the only way I can tell if people are reading, and that helps me know whether I should jump on the next chapters or hold off and prioritize other stuff.

[Table of Contents]

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Book 2, Chapter 3


The caviar was… weird. Like tiny, rubbery bubbles bursting between Merritt’s teeth as he chewed. Disconcerting as the sensation was, he couldn’t bear the thought of wasting such expensive food. Belmont might have turned up his nose at a meal that had been sitting out at room temperature for four and a half hours, but Merritt, whose stomach was conditioned to accept congealed orphanage and mess hall food, had no such reservations. Besides, he doubted the caviar would have been any less creepy four and a half hours ago.

Belmont returned to the meeting room in better spirits after lunch, and Merritt suspected that the spirits at Yackley’s had something to do with it. He might have even taken a pill or two to go along with his drinks. But regardless of how he got there, Merritt was glad to see his shoulders less rigid and his brows less furrowed. He still had a ways to go before he could pass for truly relaxed, but maybe they could at least get through the afternoon without Belmont snapping at him.

Belmont sat at the meeting table with a nearly empty paper cup, its contents smelling vaguely of coffee and bourbon. He tossed a printed document onto the table and leaned back in his seat, raising a haughty eyebrow. “Take a look,” he said with a nod toward the stack of papers.

It was a North Sphere tabloid. Merritt slid it closer, making eye contact with his own printed face. He saw himself entering the Yackley’s VIP room the previous Friday, taking in the sight of Belmont’s party guests for the first time.

Mercury’s Golden Boy General Plays a Risky Hand.

At least the headline wasn’t as unflattering as the photo, in which his eyes were wide enough to expose the whites around his irises.

“We need to do something about your face,” Belmont said.

Merritt looked down at his printed likeness and back at Belmont. “We do?”

Look at it,” Belmont said incredulously. “Have you ever seen a photo of Rhodes with that look on his face? Or Mercury? Or any of his advisors?”

No, he hadn’t. They’d all appeared perfectly poised in every photo that graced the news feeds. But they’d been trained for it. They’d pursued that lifestyle. Merritt hadn’t ever expected to see his own freshly photographed face in the news, his every emotion immortalized and distributed to the masses.

Belmont pulled out two more copies of the same article, tossing them onto the table beside the first to multiply the effect of Merritt’s shell-shocked expression. “You said it yourself: you work for me now. You’re holding onto my secrets, and I can’t have your face giving them away before you even open your mouth.”

Merritt couldn’t bear to stare at his own face in triplicate any longer. He shifted his gaze back to Belmont. “That’s fair,” he said simply. “Poker faces have never been my strength.”

“Yeah, I don’t get that. I saw your battle face during the West Sphere invasion. It was as solid as a rock. You know how to hold a poker face. Why couldn’t you do it at the party?”

“It was a party. Parties aren’t battles.”

“They aren’t?” Belmont finished the last of his spiked coffee and leaned forward, giving up his faux casual air and turning serious. “You’re at the top of the North’s military. When you’re at the top of anything in the underground, everything becomes a battle. You may think I threw you that party just to fuck with you—and yeah, that was fun—but here’s the thing. You’re going to be surrounded, every day for the rest of your life, by people who only want to see you fail. No one’s going to pull their punches like they did when you were just a captain. You can’t let them see your weakness.”

Merritt wasn’t sure what to make of Belmont’s suddenly amiable demeanor. He certainly hadn’t seemed so eager to help Merritt before their lunch break, and Merritt had to wonder what his ulterior motives were. But Merritt knew he had a point. “I understand. And I don’t disagree. But….”

“But you have no clue how to actually keep a poker face when you’re not in battle.”

Sounds about right.

“You need to find the technique that works for you. I’m guessing you’re trained enough in battle that the poker face happens by instinct, but social situations don’t trigger the same reaction. You have to put in a conscious effort.” 

Belmont paused as if considering whether or not to reveal a deep secret, and Merritt felt an irrationally intense longing to hear it.

After a deep breath, Belmont said, “Here’s the truth. I despise poker faces. It’s the worst part of being a blue-tie, and I’ve never been able to get it right.” He gave a seemingly casual laugh. “Even my parents were embarrassed to take me out in public because I couldn’t keep up a poker face. But I decided that the rest of those blue-ties didn’t know what they were talking about. Having a poker face isn’t about being a robot. It isn’t about hiding the fact that you’re human. It’s about misdirection, and any blue-tie who says otherwise is full of shit.” He put down his empty cup and held up a finger. “If you can’t manage a poker face, put on a theatre mask.”

Of course. Merritt had always known that this was Belmont’s approach to concealing his inner thoughts, but he never would have guessed that Belmont had adopted this approach because he had trouble keeping a traditional poker face.

“Here,” Belmont said. “Let’s try it out. Say you found out the South Sphere hacked my phone, and you’re worried, but you don’t want me to know you’re worried. Give me the news, but put on some face other than one that shows you’re worried. Any face. It doesn’t even matter.”

“All right.” Merritt took a deep breath, centering himself. He looked up at Belmont. “Belmont, I’m sorry to report that the South Sphere has hacked your phone,” he said, immediately following up the statement with a round, toothy smile.

NO!” Belmont cried. He chucked his empty paper cup at Merritt, which gave a hollow plink as it bounced off his forehead. “Not that face! You can do any face but that one!”

“What?” Merritt asked. “That’s how I smile.”

“But it’s the worst smile.” Belmont turned away, trying to hide the beginnings of laughter behind his hand. “And you’re the worst general in North Sphere history.” He stood up from the table and paced across the room. His back to Merritt, he muttered half-jokingly, “I’m gonna throw you out the fucking window.”

Merritt settled back in his seat, still smiling but without the show of teeth. Despite Belmont’s histrionics, Merritt was happy to see that his shoulders no longer held the same tension they had just minutes ago. “I understand your point about poker faces,” Merritt said, forcing himself to flatten his smile. “I’ll practice it during my off hours. I give you my word that I’ll keep your secrets—and all the North’s secrets—safe.”

“You’re not going to practice it during your ‘off hours,’” Belmont said, turning back to Merritt. “You’ll practice it every hour, every minute, any time you’re around people, any time there’s even a chance that a camera is on you. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Merritt replied reflexively.

“Embarrassed,” Belmont interjected, pointing at Merritt’s face.

“I’m sorry?”

Belmont chuckled. “You get a firm order, and you automatically respond with ‘yes, sir.’ But then you realized you called me ‘sir,’ and you got embarrassed, and it showed on your face.”

Merritt shook his head, unable to refute Belmont’s assessment.

“Well. One of these days, your poker face is going to be just as strong a reflex as your ‘yes, sir.’” Belmont cocked his head, examining Merritt for another moment before pointing again to his face and proclaiming, “Doubtful.”

“Please say you aren’t going to do this every time you see an emotion on my face.”

Belmont leaned across the table with a playful smirk. “It’s the only way you’ll learn.” He dropped back into his chair like a spindly marionette whose strings had just been released. “Anyway, you have no reason to doubt me. I’ve done this before. I’ve trained other people, and I’m fucking good at training people—even disasters like you.”

“That’s not what I was doubting,” Merritt replied, making sure he kept his facial expression even this time.

“Oh? Then what is it?”

“I’m just wondering why you’re suddenly so eager to help me be good at my job.”

Belmont raised his eyebrows, gazing down at Merritt over the tops of his glasses. “It’s not polite to ask, Merritt. Just take the help.”

Merritt waited six seconds before asking, “Why, though?”

With a mock irritated sigh, Belmont leaned back and threw his hands in the air. “That’s what’s wrong with you, Merritt. You ask too many questions. You poke your nose in everything.”

“It’s how I got my first promotion,” Merritt countered. “And my last promotion.”

“It’s how you’re gonna die,” Belmont joked.

“Better to die enlightened than to live in the dark.”

“You just made that up now.”

“But it’s true,” Merritt insisted. “And you’re stalling.”

At last, Belmont turned reluctantly in his chair, rolling up to the table and sitting upright like a respectable adult. “Being Mercury’s right hand is everything I wanted. It’s everything I thought it would be. Except….” He narrowed his eyes, staring down at the surface of the table. “I had no idea how much Mercury leaned on Higgins to manage his military until I got saddled with the job. I thought Pratt and Evans were pulling a lot more weight than they really were. Even Rhodes was a pain. He’d never just tell me his honest opinion.” He looked up, meeting Merritt’s eyes. “You know less than he did, but you’re no idiot.”

Merritt waited for Belmont to continue, still mindful of his poker face.

“On the other hand, you have no idea how to be a leader. They don’t teach North Sphere soldiers how to be leaders anywhere outside of battle. You’re smart, but not the same way those guys on the board are. And if you try to find your own way through the traps they set for you, you’re not going to make it.” Belmont paused to examine Merritt’s face, and Merritt wondered if he’d yell out another emotion again, but instead he continued. “Here’s my proposal. You help me with the military stuff, and I’ll help you hold your own around the elite.”

So that was why Belmont had come back from lunch in such a generous mood. He’d been trying to set the stage for a negotiation.

But whether or not the friendly air was genuine, the offer itself apparently was—and Merritt was stunned by it. It was nearly impossible to get an elite to respect the military insights of a mere soldier. They usually depended on the advice of the board advisors and the specialists they deemed skilled enough to be above the military, like the intelligence and statistics teams. That Belmont saw Merritt’s expertise as worth bartering for was both shocking and flattering.

When Belmont had seen Merritt’s scrawled poison formula notes, he’d recognized the signs of legitimate intelligence—and the type of intelligence he valued. After that, he could no longer dismiss Merritt as just being smart “for a soldier.” Merritt wished he could have earned that respect months ago, but he’d take what he could get.

“Well?” Belmont asked. “What do you think?”

“I would help you with military matters regardless,” Merritt said. “It’s my job.”

“See, this is what I’m talking about!” Belmont cried, throwing up his hands. “I know it’s your job. But are you really going to throw all your leverage away like that? This is the kind of shit that’ll land you on the chopping block in a board meeting.”

“Point taken,” Merritt replied, hoping to keep Belmont’s ranting and raving to a minimum.

“Nah, you’re just saying ‘point taken’ because you don’t want a fight. But I need you to understand. I overheard you talking to Troy at the party. The way you nullified the debt he thought you owed him for your promotions was genius. You need to do that exact same thing when you talk to other blue-ties. You need to be on your guard with them the same way you are with our sphere’s enemies.”

“My job is to serve my sphere, and the elite are the heart of my sphere. How can I treat them the same way I’d treat an enemy?”

“Wow,” Belmont muttered under his breath. “They really did a number on you, didn’t they?”

Merritt had no idea what Belmont was trying to say, and it didn’t seem like the right time to ask.

“I get it. You’re a perpetual duty soldier. You were trained to protect others above yourself. But that won’t work for the job you have now.” He narrowed his eyes. “I’m Mercury’s right hand, and I didn’t get here by accident. I know what I’m teaching. All I need is a willing student. Is that something you can be?”

“I’m always willing to learn,” Merritt replied.

“Does that mean you accept my proposal?”

Merritt considered. In Belmont’s own view, he needed to be just as much on his guard now as he had been with Troy. Merritt had no guarantee that Belmont would be true to his word, and he had no way of knowing if Belmont had ulterior motives. But no one else would train him to think like an elite, and Belmont had the greatest incentive to train him well.

And perhaps a partnership like this one would help to nullify Belmont’s feelings of insecurity.

It seemed like a good deal, but he’d have to remain cautious. “Yes. I accept.”

“Good.” Belmont held out a hand, and Merritt took it. Belmont returned the handshake with no twisting, no crushing, no sudden jerking. He held on a little longer than he needed to, but Merritt didn’t mind.

*   *   *

True to his word, Belmont was indeed “fucking good at training people.” He began with the basics, walking Merritt through the most urgent matters he’d have to resolve in the upcoming week and advising him not only on the protocols but on the best approaches to working personally with the officials involved. Belmont was thorough, informative, and impeccably organized, and he managed their session in a manner that made Merritt’s transition easier. Merritt suspected that Belmont wasn’t one to cut corners when training a new hire. For him, it was likely a matter of professional pride. He was a perfectionist at heart, and it seemed he couldn’t bear to do a less than thorough job. Perhaps he also wanted to save face after appearing so incompetent during the first half of the day.

Unsurprisingly, their session was repeatedly interrupted by Belmont’s assistant. Belmont had to step out numerous times to take important phone calls or sign off on urgent matters. Merritt had his own share of interruptions from Perry and Meade asking for similar sign-offs on military matters. But in between the interruptions, he and Belmont managed to cover more ground than he would have believed possible for one day.

An hour past their scheduled end for the evening, Belmont glanced at the time on his phone and cursed under his breath. “Shit. We only have a few minutes left, but I wanted to go over your personnel picks again before we break for the night. There’s going to be a board meeting tomorrow, and I’ll have to explain why we chose the people we chose.” He scowled. “They’re probably going to try to re-make all the decisions we made today. They’re going to ask me to justify your picks, and I don’t want to come off looking like I’m talking out of my ass.”

“I’ll stay as long as you need me,” Merritt said.

“Yeah, but we just don’t have much time.” Belmont’s gaze lingered on his phone. “I have a dinner meeting at seven.”

“I’ll talk fast. And we can talk again before the meeting tomorrow if you’re available.” He paused to consider. “Would it help if I came to the meeting too?”

“You weren’t on Mercury’s list. But….” Belmont slapped his phone down on the table. “You know what? Fuck it. Come with me tomorrow. Let’s still review everything now, but tomorrow we’ll go in together, guns blazing. I’ll do most of the talking, but I welcome anything you can say during the meeting to make the other advisors look like idiots.”

Merritt wasn’t sure if he was up to the task of making Mercury’s advisors look bad, but he’d do whatever he could to help his picks go through. With a cautious smile, he said, “I’ll be there.”

“One other thing,” Belmont said. “About the officers you fired.”

Merritt waited for him to elaborate, but instead he stalled. “What is it?”

Belmont glanced again at the time on his phone and muttered an expletive under his breath. In another moment, his expression changed from that of concern to a teasing smile. Merritt knew he’d just watched Belmont put on a theatre mask. “What was it you said before? ‘Better to die enlightened than to live in the dark’?”

“Yeah, that was it.”

“Well, I hope you really feel that way.” Belmont smirked. “Because I’m gonna enlighten the fuck out of you tomorrow.”

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