Framing him for the embezzling of nine billion credits from a failing sub-clan was simple. Once he was actually IN prison, it didn’t take more than ...he tiniest fraction of the nine billion credits (that had actually been siphoned off shortly before his mentor’s arrest into an account that Caym himself controlled), to hire someone to literally stab his mentor in the back. Generous bribes to the guards on duty and a camera technician to make sure that no one actually saw the killing was even less. Actually, he'd bought a room full of them; weight machines, free weights, a running treadmill, exercise bike. All professional grade equipment, and he'd been putting it to use. "How's school?" I shipped the last of my dorm stuff home," she said. "All I have left is what I can carry on the plane, or don't plan to take with me." When's your last day?" The twelfth, as if you didn't know." Was that the date?" Scott wiped the sweat from his face with the towel and headed upstairs. "I think you've. More

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