I nodded.
It was almost dark by the time the police offered to take me to the hotel.
I didn’t say much on the way. Now that all the excitement had been dealt with, the foremost thought in my mind was how I would discuss the subject of Thayu with Nicha, because I had to talk about it or it would get in the way of our friendship. Maybe it was better that Thayu would leave now that Nicha was back. Congratulating Nicha on his impending contract would be hard enough. There was no room for the three of us. I only hoped that Thayu would get the care of the child that would no doubt be the subject of their contract.
Still, as soon as Nicha and I started work and reconnected our feeders, Nicha would find out. No matter how much I would try to hide it from him, he would probably see how much I cared for Thayu and would offer for me to take up his contract when it finished. That was a very Coldi thing to do as well, but I didn’t think I was ready for a case of girlfriend-swapping. I would do best to forget about her.
Then why did I feel so awful?
Because I was back to square one. Now potentially a diplomat with an enviable position, but without a home, a family or a wife. Not that I would go running back to Eva. No, and I had to write to Eva’s parents explaining the situation as well. But I was sick of being alone. Three times in a row I had started relationships that had gotten me nowhere.
Maybe I should fill out a questionnaire and take it to a matchmaker. There were plenty of those both on Earth and in Barresh.
What did I want in a woman?
Someone well-educated, independent, with a sense of humour. Someone who didn’t care about race or language, or about one’s status in society or about clothing. Someone who could handle being shot at, who could handle me being the focus point of attention, and, occasionally, in danger.
I stared into the dark street unseeing. Everything about this description screamed Thayu.
When I opened the door to my room, Nicha sat at the dining table, watching a news report on his reader.
His eyes shone. “I put my stuff in this room. I didn’t think you’d mind me sharing.” All his luggage lay spread on a bed in the corner.
Oh, I was so glad to have Nicha back again, let there be no mistake about that. I crossed the room and hugged him. Familiar, warm and strong. I would need to reconnect my feeder to him, and then things would be as before.
Except for Thayu.
I sat down. There was a chickpea pita box on the table, two pieces still left in it. My stomach rumbled.
“You’re not having these?”
“I’ve had enough. I guess it’s better than jail food, but it’s rather bland.”
I took a bite and struck a piece of chilli. Tears sprang into my eyes; it was easy to blame them on the chilli. I had missed Nicha and his definition of bland.
“What are you watching?”
“There’s some interesting news here,” Nicha said. “Sigobert Danziger has confirmed his candidacy for the upcoming election.”
“That was not unexpected. Who else is standing?”
Nicha flicked on the holo-projector. The report displayed on Nicha’s reader was from Flash Newspoint. I didn’t even register the names, but thought instead of Melissa Hayworth. I should find out what happened to her. Maybe I should take her up on her offer for lunch. We seemed to have plenty in common.
Nicha’s voice broke into my thoughts. “I’ll be glad when we’re out of here.”
“So will I.”
I picked at the crust of the bread, trying to remember where I’d stored Melissa’s contact details.
You’re being stupid, Cory Wilson.
Melissa was a good journalist, but not a woman I should be dating, not even a woman I wanted to date. But I wanted . . . someone special in my life.
“You made a good start at gamra, I heard.”
“What is good? I managed to upset a lot of entities.” I forced my thoughts back to the conversation.
“No. Ezhya told me you did well. I heard he offered you a job.”
I shrugged. “He did. I guess I don’t really want to say anything until I’m sure of the arrangements. He said it would be a new position.”
“Oh, it’s sure all right. He told me. I think you did really well. Ezhya Palayi is a notoriously hard man to pin down. He doesn’t have much time for losers either. If he offered you this job . . .” Nicha shook his head; his expression was sad.
“If it goes ahead, you’ll be coming. He said I’d have six staff. You’ll be one of them, unless . . .” Thayu.
Nicha’s sharp eyes met mine. “Unless what? I’d love to come, but I don’t know that the invitation extends to me.”
“It does. I say so.”
I took a larger bite from the pita, not meeting Nicha’s eyes. The bread was cold and tasted like rubber. I longed for Eirani’s cooking, but I couldn’t even be sure I’d be back in the apartment. Probably not.
“But you’re not happy?” Nicha said.
Was it really that obvious? I shrugged. “We haven’t caught Sirkonen’s killer yet. I’ve been in contact with Amarru, but none of the people we got today were in Rotterdam at the time of the attack on Sirkonen.”
“Whoever has done it will be caught. Apparently gamra guards and Barresh officials have arrested a great number of Renkati supporters. One of them will have killed Sirkonen, or they will know who did.”
I nodded and took another bite.
“But that isn’t it, is it, the reason why you’re not happy.”
“I’m just tired.”
I could see in Nicha’s eyes that he didn’t believe this, but I said nothing, picking fallen threads of cheese out of the box.
Then he said, “I heard you got on well with my sister.”
I jerked my head up. “Sister?”
“Same parents as me. What did you think she was?”
“I thought . . .” I let it go. Obviously what I had thought was wrong. Not only that, what I had thought no longer mattered. His sister! I watched the projection but saw nothing, only felt the heat rising in my cheeks. I whispered, “I thought you were contracted to her. I thought you loved her.”
“Oh I do, but I assure you, I’m not interested in her in that way.” He cocked his head. “Although I’m guessing you are.”
No point denying it. I nodded, once, and felt more heat creep up my cheeks.
A few seconds of red-eared silence passed. Nicha frowned.
“But I thought . . . what about Eva?”
“I’m breaking off the engagement.”
“You are. . . ?”
“It would never have worked. She was only interested in dinner parties and when I came back. I don’t think she would ever have been happy in Barresh.”
Nicha blew out a breath. “You know, that must be the first sensible thing I’ve heard you say about women.”
I stared. Nicha had always been reserved about Eva, but he had never told me this. For the last two years, he had shielded his thoughts about her, so as not to hurt me. Oh, how I loved him. How I loved them both.
Nicha leaned back in his chair. He flicked a glance at the closed door of the bedroom—the room where my things were.
“You know my sister is in the shower?” He yawned. “I’m tired. I think I’ll go to bed. You don’t mind if I sleep here?”
He sounded much too rehearsed. I raised my eyebrows.
“Go for it. She’s all yours. Just don’t keep everyone awake all night.”
That Coldi bluntness.
But my heart leapt when I rose and opened the door.
A thick blanket of steam hung near the ceiling of the room, making the light hazy. Thayu sat on the bed, a towel wrapped around her, baring yellow-skinned shoulders. Water dripped from her hair and steam rose even from her skin. She was working on something on her reader. A view of the president’s office in a sickly blue hue. And then a flash. Nicha’s recording of the event. She stopped the projection and then played it again, as if she hadn’t noticed me come in.
I hesitated.
She turned to me. “I’ve changed the frequency, and I can see the light now. Is this what you experienced before?”
I nodded. “It will conclude the case neatly. Amoro Renkati killed the president.”
“But then . . . if you can see the light, why didn’t Kershaw pick it up?”
“He’s blind. He can see with the help of some technology, which doesn’t convey colour.” I remembered how he had guessed the colour of my shirt—wrong. It also dawned on me that a lot of Aghyrian technology could be beneficial to everyone, or dangerous, and that we must aim to negotiate with them, and not point fingers. Like Coldi on Earth, they had perhaps traded some of their technology for benefits needed by their community, technology which the buyers had gone on to misuse.
But I was not in the mood for discussing the matter further. There would be plenty of time for that once we returned to Barresh.
Thayu was going to play the recording again, her hand hovering over the button, but her fingers trembled. Then she blinked.
I tried the feeder. Thayu?
Her input was still blocked, and, unlike Ezhya, I couldn’t open it without setting it up through the reader.
“Thayu?”
“Are you still angry with me?”
“Angry? Why would I be angry with you?”
“Because I made your girl run out on you.”
Oh, Thayu.
She gave a surprised squeak when I pulled her up and drew her in my arms. From close up, her eyes glistened with moisture.
“Come, come, Thayu. Open your feeder. Let me tell you what’s going on.” How much I love you.
“What—”
My lips cut her words short.
She must have been standing under the hot shower for ages; her mouth was so hot it nearly burned me, but I didn’t care.
A progression of vague images spread from my feeder, getting clearer while I focused on them. Her horror as she realised she had interfered between me and Eva, as she realised that she must have done something very bad in our custom, but not understanding it. Bewilderment, regret. Love.
Love. Like a warmth seeping through me, tingling to the very tips of my fingers.
“Thayu, I would never be angry with you, because it would never have worked out with Eva. It took me to meet you before I realised that.”
“I thought you were contracted to her?”
“Not anymore.”
“You mustn’t throw away your chances, the status she was offering you.”
“I’m not interested in that type of status.”
She just blinked.
“I’m serious, I’m not. She’s part of a world that isn’t mine. I was mistaken. I want you, and if . . .” I swallowed hard. “If that means I have to buy the other man out, I will do so.”
She looked up at me, her eyes blinking. “Really?”
“Really. Is he old and ugly?”
“Yes. But rich.”
I heard the warning in those words. “I will pay him out, no matter what.”
She blinked hard, and more tears formed in her eyes. It was so unlike her that I kissed them away; the tangy taste of her on my lips.
I felt a twinge of fear through the feeder. She asked, her voice hoarse, “For how long?”
“If you want, forever. If you want a child, we’ll get around that problem somehow. I don’t want to lose you.”
She raised her head and met my eyes. I lost myself in her gaze. Her voice was no more than a whisper. “I’d like that very much.”
After that, neither of us said anything for a long time.
I shut down the projection, still flushed with the rush of excitement.
Those two thousand delegates of zhamata sat in stunned silence.
No protests, no shouts, just total shocked silence. My words about Sirkonen’s troubles, his murder, Danziger’s discovery and Renkati’s plan and their machine still echoed in my ears. I’d shown them the two-hundred-year-old plans, verified the signature of Asto’s leader of that time. How Renkati had tried to play the climate change data to make Nations of Earth vote against collaboration with gamra. I had even raised the subject of how Asto could become the subject of a territory claim. That there was an urgent need to revise the gamra membership laws.
There was not one delegate I could see from my position who hadn’t had something to yell at some stage, but now I had finished, everyone was quiet.
A group of about thirty people sat on the floor in the middle of the hall, between the speaker’s dais and the lowest tiers of the audience. Two Barresh city guards in black stood on either side. A few more guards sat on the lowest bench. They had brought the group in after the meeting started, a collection of men and women in dirty clothing.
Chief Delegate Akhtari rang her bell. Her face had remained emotionless during my speech. I didn’t think she was involved in any Aghyrian plan or even knew of it, but it would have been nice if she had shown outrage at my evidence. She was meant to remain impartial, and so far, she had done just that, which meant I still didn’t know how deep the Aghyrian involvement ran. Would we ever know? Would they ever make their claim? Had they deliberately set up Amoro Renkati with their technology? How organised were they?
I repositioned the earpiece. “And in this way, Delegates, a small organisation almost succeeded in driving a wedge within the heart of gamra. Some of you may say why does that matter? We need to have a discussion about the structure of gamra anyway. They might have said we need to end the domination of Asto and curb the power of the Coldi. Some of you—many of you maybe—might have agreed.”
Ezhya Palayi sat quietly, his hands in his lap.
“Amoro Renkati heard these voices of dissent and, while gamra wasn’t looking, gathered a group driven by hatred. They attempted to court non-Coldi entities to form their separate network. I don’t think we have seen the end of this. We have seen the technology they’ve used and I don’t think it’s going to go away.”
I glanced at Marin Federza, whose face was equally unreadable. Was there an organisation of Aghyrians? If so, was he involved?
“Rather than pointing fingers at each other, gamra needs to face this challenge as a united front. I think it matters that we air grievances publicly, here in this venue, before they become deeply ingrained. We have just seen how quickly a conflict can escalate. I have no doubt that if we did allow this split to happen, we would have major conflict within a year.”
Now for the official part of the meeting.
“At the start of this meeting, you saw the guards of Barresh bring in a group of people. They are what is left of Amoro Renkati, those people who still swear by an organisation with the blood of my president on its hands. Now only one question remains, and I have been chosen to ask it on behalf of zhamata.”
A few of the people in the group on the floor looked up.
“Gamra law gives you the opportunity to answer freely and escape a forceful investigation and detention for those of you not guilty. Out of all of you here, whose hand killed the president?”
In the group, no one looked at one another. People sat with their shoulders slumped. I felt a twinge of disappointment. It had probably been too naïve to hope that anyone would come forward. But then there was a commotion in the group. Someone rose. A thin figure, a middle-aged man. Greying hair.
Seymour Kershaw. His vacant eyes stared in the distance.
“I did.”
His voice carried in the hall.
He said again, “I did.” He laughed. “I killed the backstabbing bastard. He was going to run off with data some of us risked our lives getting for him.”
I had never heard him speak Coldi, and he did so with a heavy accent, loathsome almost, but it was his face that disturbed me most. An expression of pure hatred.
Kershaw continued, “The Coldi have used, screwed and betrayed us for hundreds of years. Gamra as well as my home world. They will never share power. They must be stopped.” He pointed at E
zhya Palayi; he had something in his hand.
I didn’t think twice. I pulled the charge gun from under my shirt and fired. Once. Twice. No, that second shot came from Thayu.
Both blue flashes hit the standing figure. Crackled like lightning. Gave off a cloud of steam.
People screamed and scrambled from their seats. The guards shouted, pulled weapons. Restrained the Renkati members who tried to run.
Lights went on overhead.
When the panic had cleared, one figure remained on the floor. Thayu sprang over the railing and knelt next to the prone figure.
Breathing deeply, I clicked the weapon back into its bracket. The barrel was hot. I swallowed hard and for a moment felt like I would faint or throw up. “Is he. . . ?”
Thayu rose and nodded. “Bitter old man.”
I steadied myself against the dais, fighting my rebelling stomach. I had pulled a weapon on a fellow human, and killed.
Thayu’s warm thoughts touched my mind. Really, you did well. That was a shot worthy of a sniper.
But what if I’d missed?
What if he’d killed Ezhya Palayi?
I gulped deep breaths. The hall’s floor had become a seething mass of people, most of them security.
Everyone had failed Kershaw. The wrong candidate for the job, he had received little training and not enough physical preparation. Without adaptation, Seymour Kershaw had gone blind, and the lack of support had made him bitter, making him easy prey for Renkati.
The best I could do for him was to make sure I succeeded.
A humidity-laden breeze stirred the curtain. I leaned back in my chair, reading once more over the text on the screen.
To Sigobert Danziger, acting president, Nations of Earth,
It is with regret that I report I have found the remains of previous Earth envoy Seymour Kershaw, which I hope you will clear to be returned to his family.
It was still uncomfortable to think of what had happened, and something I would have to explain to Danziger, but not now.
Rogue Stars Page 191
