"Not dead," said Petra. "He just keeps beating you."
"Narrowly escaping with his life while my plans are never interfered with at all . . ."
"Come on, you know he got you booted out of Russia."
Achilles raised his eyebrows. "So you admit you sent a coded message."
"Bean doesn't need coded messages to beat you," she said.
Achilles rose from his chair and walked over to her. She braced herself for a slap. But he planted a hand in her chest and shoved the chair over backward.
Her head hit the floor. It left her dazed, lights flashing through her peripheral vision. And then a wave of pain and nausea.
"He sent for dear old Sister Carlotta," said Achilles. His voice betrayed no emotion. "She's flying around the world to help him. Isn't that nice of her?"
Petra could barely comprehend what he was saying. The only thought she could hold on to was: Don't let there be any permanent brain damage. That was her whole self. She'd rather die than lose the brilliance that made her who she was.
"But that gives me time to set up a little surprise," said Achilles. "I think I'll make Bean very sorry that he's alive."
Petra wanted to say something to that, but she couldn't remember what. Then she couldn't remember what he had said. "What?"
"Oh, is your poor little head swimming, my Pet? You should be more careful with the way you lean back on that chair."
Now she remembered what he had said. A surprise. For Sister Carlotta. To make Bean sorry he's alive.
"Sister Carlotta is the one who got you off the streets of Rotterdam," said Petra. "You owe her everything. Your leg operation. Going to Battle School."
"I owe her nothing," said Achilles. "You see, she chose Bean. She sent him. Me, she passed over. I'm the one who brought civilization to the streets. I'm the one who kept her precious little Bean alive. But him she sends up into space, and me she leaves in the dirt."
"Poor baby," said Petra.
He kicked her, hard, in the ribs. She gasped.
"And as for Virlomi," he said, "I think I can use her to teach you a lesson about disloyalty to me."
"That's the way to bring me into your tent," said Petra.
Again he kicked her. She tried not to groan, but it came out anyway. This passive resistance strategy was not working.
He acted as if he hadn't done it. "Come on, why are you lying there? Get up."
"Just kill me and have done with it," she said. "Virlomi was just trying to be a decent human being."
"Virlomi was warned what would happen."
"Virlomi is nothing to you but a way to hurt me."
"You're not that important. And if I want to hurt you, I know how." He made as if to kick her again. She stiffened, curled away from the blow. But it didn't come.
Instead he reached down a hand to her. "Get up, my Pet. The floor is no place to nap."
She reached up and took his hand. She let him bear most of her weight as she rose up, so he was pulling hard.
Fool, she thought. I was trained for personal combat. You weren't in Battle School long enough to get that training.
As soon as her legs were under her, she shoved upward. Since that was the direction he had been pulling, he lost his balance and went over backward, falling over the legs of her chair.
He did not hit his head. He immediately tried to scramble to his feet. But she knew how to respond to his movements, kicking sharply at him with her heavy army-issue shoes, shifting her weight so that her kicks never came at the place he was protecting. Every kick hurt him. He tried to scramble backward, but she pressed on, relentless, and because he was using his arms to help him scuttle across the floor, she was able to kick him in the head, a solid blow that rocked him back and laid him out.