Oysters Kilpatrick

  'We could be friends, you and I. Very good friends, I think.' The man dabbed at his mouth and signalled for the waiter to take the plates and refill the wine.
  'You think so?' she intoned, careful to keep her contributions to a minimum. This was a man who liked to talk, and she saw no reason to challenge that.
  'It would benefit us mutually,' he explained, taking a great gulp of wine. 'I have a great network of friends that could make things very easy for you and your people.'
  Venti had heard enough threats in her life to know what he meant by that: they could make things very hard for you as well, if I wish it. 'You're well-connected, I know,' she said in her best imitation of flattery. 'Very influential. What I need to know is that we have your loyalty.'
  'Loyalty.' He crinkled his nose at that. 'Mmh. A tricky word, that. Put it this way, my dear; I am loyal to those who are loyal. Scratch my back, all that.    You and your friends don't seem terribly keen to support my causes; merely to promote your own.'
  'On the contrary, gover, we're very interested in your ideals. If we had your support, we could get you even greater—'
  Here the waiter returned, setting a great steaming plate before them. Venti looked down at them and swallowed. They had served the oysters. It was time. She locked eyes with the server, whose cold gaze revealed nothing. 'Thank you,' she uttered, her voice quiet and childish for a moment.
  The gover seemed not to notice, incensed as he was by the aroma of the dish. 'Oysters Kilpatrick,' he said with a flourish, sighing contentedly. 'An old Earth favourite, you know. You've never had it? I'm not surprised. Frightfully expensive these days, especially this far out.' He took up a miniature fork from the table and worked the grey little fish away from its shell, picked it up and ate. She blinked at him, swallowed again. That was that. She could walk away now. There was still time.
  'So,' the fat gover went on, picking up another and devouring it like the first. 'You were saying?'
  Venti opened her mouth, finding that she'd lost her place. 'Yes. We... if we had your support, we could... you could have even greater reign over the district. We'd keep the authorities off your back, provide your people with extra protection, even—'
  'But they have protection,' he replied uninterestedly, still eating. 'And the authorities cannot touch me here.' He gave a chuckle, as if the prospect was simply too ludicrous to bother with. 'This isn't some drug firm on the lower levels, my dear, this is business. If the Commonwealth wants me dead, they must do it by the book, and between you and me, it is a frightfully easy book to dupe.' He paused to take another slug of wine. 'I am careful. I am prepared. No soldier nor hunter, registered or otherwise, can pin anything on me.'
  'No,' she said. 'No, of course. You're quite right.'
  'And may I always be so.' He gave her an appraising look. 'You're not eating. Seafood not your forté?'
  Venti snatched up her fork and took one of the oysters, fearing she'd given herself away. Her hand shook slightly as she freed it from the shell, paused, lifted it to her mouth and tipped it back. The taste of cheese and salt tickled her tongue, slipping down her throat in an instant, dully coming to settle in her writhing stomach.
  The panic evaporated almost as soon as it had come. The deed was done. Her part in the plan was complete. 'Delicious,' she said.
  'You get more flavour from them if you chew, you know,' he informed her. If he had any suspicions, if her shaking hand had given her away, there was no trace of it on his face. The complacent fool, so sure of his own safety; he hadn't suspected a thing.
  She took another and ate, chewing determinedly. 'So,' she said conversationally. 'You've had your piece? There really isn't any way we can do business?'
  'I'm afraid not, dear,' the gover said, finishing off his wine. 'You're a nice girl, and your proposition was interesting, but why tangle with your type when I'm already sitting at the top? You can offer me nothing. I wish you the best of luck, of course, but not in my district. I'm sure you understand.' He dabbed at his lips with a napkin again.
  'Yes. I understand.'
  He smiled and chuckled again. 'Excuse me for a moment, if you would. Nature calls.' He rose to his feet and patted his immense stomach, swaggering his way to the bathrooms on the other side of the restaurant. The waiter paused in his mechanical scanning of the floor to look at her again, his golden eyes seeming questioning, though the face never changed. Venti nodded at him, closing her eyes, and got to her feet.
  She tapped a number into her uplink and paid the bill, seeing no reason to let the restaurant suffer. It wasn't like she'd need the money. Stopping only to finish her wine, she walked calmly towards the exit, thanking the proprietor on her way out.
  'My Lady,' she said, speaking into her wrist. 'It's done. He's dead.'
  'Good work, Venti,' came the soft reply. 'You've paved the way for our success. Your contribution will not be forgotten. I promise.'
  That made Venti smile. 'Thank you, My Lady. I'm pleased to have served you.'
  She smoothed down her dress and took a steadying breath, starting down the stairs towards the exit. She got two floors down before the poison took hold, and clattered down the rest of them to lie crumpled at the bottom, patrons and staff gasping and rushing over to help. They found her in a heap with a broken neck and bleeding stomach, her last serene smile still plain upon her face.