Retalio

by Alison Morton

  ‘For what?’

  ‘As you have no residential status you are required to depart within fourteen days. Failure to do so will result in forced eviction.’

  I bit my first reply back.

  ‘On what grounds?’

  ‘As stateless persons you should have applied for asylum on your day of arrival.’

  ‘I think you mistake the situation, Herr Riegler. We are all citizens of Roma Nova and have full freedom of movement and settlement under the European Economic Area conventions.’ I’d signed off the most recent amendment at the European Council of Foreign Ministers last summit, so I was on firm ground.

  ‘We have a formal notice from your government that you have all been stripped of your citizenship and are thus stateless.’

  I couldn’t say anything for the next moment as a cold wave washed through me. Then it flowed back in hot anger. Bloody Caius. But this smooth bureaucrat was enjoying himself too much.

  ‘You will be aware that the current regime in Roma Nova is illegal,’ I said in my coldest voice. ‘It came to power as a result of a coup d’état. None of its instructions carries weight. As the legally appointed Roma Novan foreign minister, I reject your notice and request an immediate interview with my Austrian opposite number, who I would advise you is a personal friend of mine. He was one of my sponsors for my own political asylum application which was granted last autumn within two weeks. At the minimum, kindly arrange a meeting with his assistant Herr Goss who knows me. That is all.’

  I nodded to Volusenia who signalled the guards to open the door. I brought my haughtiest look back to Riegler, daring him to say anything more. He looked away, muttered something to the gendarmerie officers and stalked out with them in his wake.

  We stood like tailor’s dummies for a few seconds.

  ‘Get me Edward Soane on the line, stat,’ I snapped.

  * * *

  ‘The position is awkward, Frau Gräfin Mitela, but not impossible,’ the lawyer said in her soft voice. She might have been a partner in a firm with a prestigious practice on the Schubertring, but she looked about eighteen and sounded younger. However, she absorbed the details of our case very quickly and Edward said she was as sharp as Mercury. ‘As a group you are economically self-sufficient, that is, not in need of social assistance, and sufficiently proficient in Germanic.’ She looked up from her file. ‘Have you heard anything back from Herr Goss at the federal foreign ministry? Or the minister?’

  ‘Not yet, but it hasn’t been forty-eight hours yet. To be honest, I don’t want to insist, as it might be politically embarrassing for the minister and thus Herr Goss. If we can resolve this without resorting to personal favours, I’d prefer it.’ I shrugged. ‘If not, then I will.’

  She twisted her pencil round her fingers, glanced at Edward Soane who looked puzzled.

  ‘Your Praetorians and the other military…’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Technically, they’re foreign combatants and should be interned. We will fight that, obviously, and invoke the European Defence Cooperation Treaty, but it will hinge on the nationality and political asylum question. They may have to surrender to the federal authorities until their status is clear.’

  ‘Well, the female officers and guards won’t be affected,’ I replied. ‘All their commissions were cancelled by Caius Tellus as soon as he came to power. In his regime’s eyes, they’re civilians. The men?’ I looked at her steadily. ‘Numerus is a pensioner and the others all resigned the instant they crossed the border.’

  ‘I see.’ She knew I was stretching the truth, but made no further comment. ‘Have you not thought to contact your legation?’

  ‘To be honest, we haven’t attempted it. They must be aware of the exile group’s presence but we’ve heard nothing from them. The staff will mostly take the nuncia’s lead.’

  ‘The nuncia?’

  ‘The ambassador. If they’ve accepted the regime change and represent Caius Tellus, they will be hostile. If they haven’t, they will be treated as a stranded embassy by your government and have little power or influence to help us.’ I gave her a steady look. ‘I didn’t contact them myself before Saturnalia and I’m certainly not willing to risk any of our people stepping inside the legation building, being taken into custody and bundled back to Roma Nova to face at least rough treatment and possibly worse.’

  ‘I still think it would be worth exploring, even to establish that fact. If they support your compatriots, it could further strengthen their case.’

  ‘Very well, then we need a neutral place to meet.’

  ‘Perhaps I could approach them to arrange a preliminary meeting at my office?’

  I nodded.

  ‘And in the meantime, I’ll file opposition against the current Roma Novan regime with penalty costs and compensation for unlawful harassment under the European Acts. We should be able to get your people temporary protected status. It’s a European measure for the admission and residence of conflict refugees. After what I’ve heard today, I would say you all qualify.’

  * * *

  I hadn’t seen Livilla Vara since I’d given her letters of appointment to the New Austrian president three years ago. She swept into the lawyer’s office four days later, fur-collared long coat against the chill March wind flapping round her. With her was an entourage of three men. She hesitated, gave me the briefest of nods and sat down on the chair parallel to me. She avoided my eyes and fixed her gaze on the window behind the lawyer’s head.

  Pia Calavia, who had insisted on acting as my security guard that day along with Styrax, stood by the wall to my side and gave Vara a measured look. Vara ignored her. Calavia’s grandmother hadn’t thought much of Vara or her mother, if I remembered correctly, but Vara had been an effective civil servant so I said nothing. At least she had come to this meeting – a good sign. But she looked as if she was sitting on a bag of upturned nails. The lawyer glanced at me, then addressed Vara.

  ‘Thank you for attending, Ambassador. This is an informal meeting for my client to make a first contact and to discuss some practical issues.’

  ‘Well, I really don’t know why they haven’t approached the legation. A simple courtesy call by Aurelia Mitela would have saved everybody’s time. We have had a change of government and there have been a few adjustments, but as far as we are concerned it’s business as usual.’

  Calavia took a step towards Vara, murder in her eyes. I held my hand up and mouthed ‘No’.

  ‘I rather think that Livilla Vara is simplifying a very complex matter, perhaps from ignorance,’ I replied. ‘She’s been here, observing from the outside and cut off from the latest updates. As foreign minister and member of the imperial council, as well as the late Imperatrix Severina’s appointed personal advisor, I have been at the centre of events.’

  Now Vara was looking at me.

  ‘Speaking plainly, there has been a coup d’état, murder of the reigning monarch, forcible dismissal of the executive council, subornation of several ministries, rioting, prejudicial pursuit of the imperial heir and her protectors, crushing of personal freedoms, let alone Juno knows how many deaths.’ I took a deep breath. ‘I do not call that a mere change of government.’

  ‘You exaggerate, consiliaria,’ Vara said. Her features drew together and red flushed through her face. ‘I mean, Aurelia.’

  ‘You were correct the first time, nuncia. I am still the minister and Imperatrix Silvia has confirmed my appointment.’

  ‘Silvia? A child!’

  ‘Be careful, Vara. She is your lawful sovereign. Never forget that.’

  ‘No, those times are over. A child can’t run a country in crisis. A stronger hand has taken over and will restore order and prosperity.’

  I could hardly believe what I was hearing. But when I looked at her properly, I saw that her face had paled, the muscles in her neck were stiff with tension and she wouldn’t look at me. She grasped one hand in the other to stop her fingers trembling.

  ‘Vara, are you ill?
Because if you aren’t, that’s treason, laesa maiestas. You could go to Truscium for that.’ Unlikely, but I had to shake her out of this somehow. She said nothing but took a deep breath. After a few moments she unclasped her hands, then looked at me. She seemed calmer.

  ‘You must recognise Silvia and disown Caius Tellus’s seizure of power,’ I continued. ‘His regime won’t be recognised internationally. Remember your basics – ex injuria jus non oritur – unjust acts cannot create law. They’ll throw it out at the next council of foreign ministers in Geneva.’

  ‘Which you will not be going to, Aurelia. You’re no longer Roma Nova’s foreign minister. Remember, ex factis jus oritur – the existence of facts creates law.’

  ‘Oh, for Mercury’s sake, stop twisting words with me. I cannot understand why you can’t see the basic principles, let alone justice.’

  I leaned across the gap between us and touched her forearm.

  ‘Come on, Vara, think it through.’ I saw a movement on the edge of my peripheral vision and glanced up. One of Vara’s staffers pushed forward to intervene, but Calavia got there before him and blocked his approach. He was tall and well built, and moved with the confidence of a heavy rather than the diffidence of a civil servant. In fact, all three looked as if they came out of the same factory. But Calavia was quicker, more agile and coordinated. Styrax was eyeing the other two. This wasn’t right. They weren’t bureaucrats, nor diplomatic protection which was normally PGSF. And they looked at Calavia, assessing her as an opponent, not as colleagues each protecting their principal.

  ‘Let’s all calm down,’ I said and stood up. ‘Everybody back to the walls. You, too, Calavia.’ Reluctantly, they all moved back, the three musclemen keeping their eyes on Vara. They must have thought I represented an overwhelming danger. She glanced round at the oldest one. It was a look of fear. Then it clicked; they weren’t protecting her, they were guarding her. I had to speak to her on her own. I turned to the lawyer.

  ‘Frau Rechtsanwältin, I think Livilla Vara and I will take a little walk round your hallway to clear our heads.’ The lawyer frowned, trying to decipher what was going on, but nodded. I stood up, took Vara’s arm and made for the door. One of her detail stepped in front of me.

  ‘Stand aside,’ I said.

  He stayed where he was.

  ‘Are you challenging me?’

  ‘We’re not allowed to let the woman out of our sight.’

  ‘Woman? How dare you refer to the nuncia in such terms? Move out of my way. Now.’

  He hesitated. I was not in prime condition, but I reckoned I could take him. Being sensible, though, I didn’t want to cause an incident in the lawyer’s ultra respectable office.

  ‘The nuncia and I will talk in the lobby. I mean her no harm – we are old friends.’ I applied a light pressure to Vara’s arm, praying she wouldn’t contradict me. ‘You may stand by the front entrance and watch us from there.’

  He jerked his head at the other two and, preceded by them, Vara and I walked back into the tall, glass-walled hallway. I waited until they’d reached the entrance, a good ten metres away.

  Out of earshot, I stopped and released Vara. I fished a handkerchief out of my handbag and pretended to dab my eyes. I eased a small black-plastic covered device out of the handkerchief folds and pressed a button to switch it on. I slid the button to max and clipped it to lock it.

  ‘This scrambles our voices so if they have a bug planted on you, they’ll get distorted voices in their receiver. Now kindly tell me what’s going on.’

  ‘Really, Aurelia, I don’t know what you mean. You’re so dramatic with all your spy stuff, just like that dreadful little Plico.’

  ‘That dreadful little Plico is now dead, having sacrificed himself to buy us time to save Silvia. If you say one more word against him, I will not be responsible for my subsequent actions,’ I hissed at her.

  She took a step back at my vehemence.

  ‘I can’t say any more,’ she said.

  ‘Can’t or won’t?’

  She said nothing.

  ‘Look, Livilla, I don’t know what you know or not, or why you’re under guard by three heavies and not the PGSF diplomatic detail. Tell me.’

  ‘They really can’t hear?’

  ‘No, these are the most advanced scramblers in existence.’

  ‘They’ve got my mother.’ Her face crumpled. ‘If I step out of line, they’ll kill her. It’s the same for most of the legations.’

  ‘You’ve been using the confidential channel?’ It was a system for heads of legation to talk frankly and confidentially to each other.

  She nodded. Caius most likely knew about it and was relying on the nunciae talking amongst themselves to reinforce the fear his threats to each of them had caused.

  ‘How many of these heavies are there at the legation?’

  ‘About a dozen. They’re all armed and their chief has the keys to the armoury and the signals office.’

  ‘Gods, they did organise this well, didn’t they?’ I muttered, almost to myself.

  ‘I don’t know what you think you can do.’ She sniffed. ‘If you start leaping around playing heroines, people will get hurt.’

  ‘And nobody’s going to get hurt as a consequence of Caius’s dictatorship? Wake up, Vara, this is just the beginning. I’m not discussing complex matters of jus legationis or swapping diplomatic niceties. Nor am I asking you to help us directly. Just don’t impede us. And don’t encourage the New Austrians to harass us. Remember this. We are not going to let Caius Tellus get away with this. We’re going to liberate Roma Nova. And believe me, we intend to succeed.’

  10

  ‘Out of the question,’ Volusenia rapped out. She stared at me as if I was insane. ‘You want my people to risk their lives getting some cantankerous old woman out just to make Vara happy. Livilla Vara should get a grip and open the legation to us and work with us. She should do it for her country. If old Countess Vara is a casualty, then that’s a pity, but one of those things. We’re at war.’

  ‘I agree with your sentiments, Colonel, but we have to be practical. Vara feels a deep bond with her mother – it’s natural.’

  ‘Maybe, but we have to put our personal feelings aside. My older sister is stuck there, but she knows her duty. You know what she’s like – stubborn as Pluto. She’ll probably spit in Caius Tellus’s face. Not likely I’ll see her again. But we can’t deal with this now – the death lists have come through.’

  * * *

  Silvia stood, several folds of perforated-edged green and white printouts in her hand. The shabby, vaulted ballroom was silent as a tomb. Fifty anxious pairs of eyes were fixed on her face. Her hands were shaking, but she held herself still.

  ‘We’ve called this meeting because there are so many rumours flying round and we need to tell you what’s really going on. Brown Industries’ new equipment has let us listen in to the... the rebels’ messages and read some of their documents. These casualty lists have been compiled by the rebels.’ She paused at the murmurs from her audience and glanced down at me. I nodded in encouragement. I thought she was too young for such a grim job but she was determined to do it. I’d helped her with her speech, but as long as she spoke from her heart, nobody would mind if she stumbled over a few words. She cleared her throat and waited until the murmuring stopped.

  ‘As we are such a small number we must work together. We must also face horrible news together. It doesn’t make it any pleasanter, but we can help each other to deal with it.’

  I handed her a glass of water. She gulped half of it down, placed the glass back on the table and started.

  ‘Here are the names: Severina Apulia imperatrix, Julianus Apulius, Fabianus Apulius born Mitelus – missing suspected dead, Senator Gaia Calavia, Major Terentia Fabia PGSF, Senator Julia Cornelia, Sextus Aemelius born Aquilius...’

  She continued for nearly fifteen minutes, her voice becoming more strained as she went through the sheets. Sobs and gasps punctuated the numbed silence, wi
th some crying and soft swearing. When she’d finished, she sank onto her chair and put her head in her hands. Her shoulders shook. I pulled her towards me and held her. After a minute or two, I released her and stood up.

  ‘I think we need some time for reflection, but the imperatrix has said she would like to see everybody, either one at a time or in families, later this afternoon or this evening. We have to decide what to do next.’

  * * *

  ‘Did you prompt her?’ Volusenia asked as we walked in the garden. Volusenia cupped a cigarette in her hand, attempting to hide the smoke.

  ‘No, not directly, but she insisted on doing it. She said it was her duty. I know she’s an emancipated adult, but she shouldn’t have to do this sort of thing. I give her full marks for carrying out a shitty job well. And that will go to people’s hearts. They know she’s lost every member of her immediate family. She’s growing up brutally fast.’

  ‘Well, I think you should brief her before she starts these interviews.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll sit in with her.’

  ‘Good. We need to know who will fight, who wants to stay here, who will wait and see. It’ll be a tough, gritty struggle just to get started.’ She threw the half-burnt cigarette on the ground and squished it with her boot.

  * * *

  Our meeting with Livilla Vara had depressed me. Caius had terrorised our nearest legation, the one that could have helped us. I felt sorry for Vara personally; a terrible decision to have to make, choosing between one’s country and one’s beloved mother. On the positive side, Edward’s lawyer had met Herr Goss at the New Austrian foreign ministry to pursue documentation for the exiles and Vara had promised to do her best not to hinder us in this.

  My list of possible helpers still left in Roma Nova was skimpy; I talked to the exiles and it grew by one or two names after each interview. But it wasn’t enough to start even the most basic network. I sat back in my chair and stretched my arms to release the tension in my shoulders. The yellow March sunlight was clear and strong. I glanced at my schedule; I had two free hours, so I asked one of our taxi drivers to take me out to the suburbs.