While he was already at Potestas Tower, it seemed like a good time to check in on Ilan. Not that linking upstairs to the rooftop took a moment more than linking across the empire.

Since the timeline had been changed, Cristo had no way of knowing what was going to happen to Ilan from this point forward.

Gnomon in hand, he walked, though. Cristo's shoes clacked down the floor of the penthouse foyer, and he retraced Leander's footsteps from last night down the hallway to the rooftop and reached the door to outside just in time to catch the predicted scene.

Call it a feeling. Call it a well calculated estimate, a good prediction, but Cristo found he was right on time for the next escalation in the enemy candidates' plan. Four assassins this time, no telling who let them in or connected them to the router, but they drew their weapons as Cristo walked down the steps past the four columns. Each wore a rosso corsa red three-piece suit as if it was a uniform.

The roof was a military base, the attack was a suicide mission. Cristo didn't add much to the equation, but he pulled out Louis's gun anyway. So did half a dozen security guards around the perimeter of the roof. Shots fired in all directions. Leander was ready this time. The only agent with no gun, he wasn't a target, wasn't a threat, and while the red-suited assassins took aim, took out three of the boss's security, and fired at the boss, Leander got Ilan onto the ground, took the boss's bullet in his shoulder and launched himself at the nearest attacker anyway, slitting her throat with — of all things — a sharp, long, knife, might as well have been from the kitchen, then pulled her body close as a shield.

The other three, threatened by the shock, aimed for him, forgetting their real target down on the ground, and their suicide mission was unsuccessful in all but their own deaths as Cristo's shots and a few rounds from the boss himself riddled their bodies.

The boss went to Leander, who saw that the threat was neutralized and was now holding ripped fabric over the blood that was pouring out of his shoulder wound — as if that would hold it in. The boss touched the hole in his skin and the skin sealed itself back together. The bleeding stopped. Leander was pale, but mostly from bafflement at how his bullet wound had been mended. He didn't say anything, though; not much could surprise him any more.

Cristo led the charge to check they were really dead. No one was concerned that the assassins should have been restrained and not killed. No one tried to heal their bullet wounds before they bled out. For one thing, they already had prisoners to interrogate. The boss wasn't shaken, but he was angry. "There will be no more appointments today," was all he said before he thanked Leander and noticed Cristo was there. "You have a habit of showing up every time someone tries to kill me. I'm beginning to have a negative association with your face."

"Understandable," said Cristo. Security fell back to the perimeter, the corpses were removed, and he, Leander and the boss were left on the bloodstained patio in privacy.

"This morning you didn't want to work with me, but I hope the second near death experience changed your mind. You've put up a wonderful defense, and it would be splendid if you could keep up that level of self preservation for the next few hours, but it's time to strike back. You may not like my face, but we should work together."

The boss didn't argue. That was something. Whether he was speechless or just thinking, he didn't react and he didn't argue. He was still standing like that, both eyes on Cristo, when Nova and Stephen ran out onto the patio together.

Nova reached him first, glancing at the blood on the ground without letting it stop her from getting to his side. "They tried again?" she said, breathless. Stephen was sputtering too, as if they had both run here, but he was taking the opportunity panting for breath provided to avoid coming up with the right thing to say to Ilan.

"Not 'someone,'" said Cristo. "It was Justin Marius. I don't have proof, but when security identifies the bodies of the assassins, you'll believe me. Actually I don't care if you believe me, I just need you to do what I tell you."

Everyone looked to the boss. "It's the least likely theory out of every theory I've considered. But — it interests me that you're so convinced. Convince me. Tell me what you want me to do. If it's harmless, I'll consider it."

Cristo really didn't plan on delivering a persuasive seminar to get the boss on board; he needed to wriggle out of a damn presentation. "I'm not sure anything I say will convince you if the attempt on your life didn't. The annual election is usually nothing but a formality, and you can downplay it as a company takeover all you want, but Constellation controls the future of Soliara, and it's responsible for the present of an entire empire. You need to stop the takeover. Get the entire board to Potestas Tower tonight, all in one place. Invite the whole damn empire for a gathering — what harm could it do to put your rooftop patio to good use again?"

"If someone's bent on killing me, it would endanger the entire guest list," said the boss.

The boss couldn't be returned to the living. So Cristo only said, "I've laid out my case, Boss, time to make a decision. Just don't take all day, if you don't mind. It's going to be over fast."

Cristo was ready to leave it like that and get out of Invernali, but before he went he made the mistake of letting his eyes linger on Nova for the first time since he started avoiding her and then his thoughts for the first time since he started avoiding thinking about her.

That was all it took for him to need to speak with her. Alone. Even if it meant a useless shouting match repeat of their dance last night, even if only to yell at her and be yelled at in return. He was going to leave the roof and he needed Nova to follow him. And all that would take was a challenge he could convey with his eyes alone. He glared an accusation that repeated everything he said to her last night and she reacted immediately with a look that said how dare he, but she wouldn't be satisfied until she had the chance to respond a lot more vocally — which she didn't seem about to do in front of the boss.

Cristo called back to Ilan, "Let me know what time the party's at," as he walked away.

The halls back to the room with the router bustled, the boss's security reallocated themselves and changed shifts, and the other staff, scientists, analysts, researchers, assistants and managers stretched their legs for an excuse to gossip about the second attack, but the router room itself was empty.

Cristo left the door open, which kept the router lights from illuminating much, and waited for Nova. Apparently, however, she wasn't the one who followed him out. It was Leander.

His face said everything, Cristo didn't need him to speak. He wanted to ask a dozen questions and Cristo could guess all of them. The boss didn't tell him enough to do his job, why doesn't Cristo stay in the tower and guard the boss with him, why's the sun crossing the sky so fast, what's Constellation? What's the router and the gnomon and a solar weapon? What is this all about, why does the boss hate his son, what's wrong with these people, why did Louis Reveur have to die? What's everyone so angry about? What mistakes? Why does everyone hate President Solin? And why won't anyone just tell him?

He opened his mouth and Cristo said, "Wait — I know what you're going to say. I don't have time to answer your questions, but that doesn't mean I won't. I can show you. It's faster." Cristo drew the gnomon from the huge left inside pocket of his suit jacket and showed it to Leander, let him see that it was the same shape as the gnomon on the dial router behind him, only smaller, like the gnomon of a sundial. He prodded his temple with it, more a symbolic gesture than a necessary one, and he told Leander to relax. Leander didn't look capable of any such thing.

"It's not sharp," said Cristo, and he took a step forward, bringing the point of the gnomon to Leander's temple, and pausing a hair's breadth from touching. Well, obviously it was a little sharp. It didn't need to touch him either — the whole dramatization just felt right, maybe Leander would guess what was going on, and maybe understand, just like when the boss touched Leander's shoulder and healed the bullet wound.

"I wasn't born yet when these things happened," said Cristo, "but it turns out memory transferral is a cinch. Enjoy." Leander didn't feel anything, but when Cristo walked away, he could remember exactly how the entire population of Soliara became immortal, and he remembered being very, very angry about it.

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