by Patty Jansen
So we fell quiet.
The vehicle started moving down the tree-lined road. Most of the earlier crowd had already dispersed or had gone back to their picnics.
The bollards at the park’s entrance sank into the paving at our approach.
The van inserted itself into the traffic.
We drove for quite a while, over a main road that followed the river bank. The tall buildings of the city centre rose from the opposite shore. From this distance, the effects of the drone attacks were no longer visible.
I worried about what Celia Braddock was going to do now that she continued to believe—and tell her lackeys and everyone who would listen—that gamra was responsible for the attacks. There would be people worldwide who would listen to her, because there were always conspiracy theorists who wanted to believe that the source of all ills in the world was “Aliens!”
We could absolutely not use that attitude now, or at least not from any of the world’s leaders.
And I was being taken further and further from its source, while being powerless to do anything about it. Celia Braddock wasn’t listening to me. Simon Dekker wasn’t talking to me. Amarru was likely to be angry with me. Ezhya… well, he was smart and would not get involved.
What sort of conflict was this, even? A domestic one? What else could I do to help people see sense?
We were indeed being taken to the airport. I recognised the buildings when we turned off the main road. We went in not through the regular passenger entrance but through the Customs office.
Here, a different group of guards was waiting for us.
They took us out of the vehicle one by one. Sheydu was the first one to go. Her face spelled thunder.
But I motioned for her to keep calm. I knew that she would do this anyway, because she was a professional. But deep down, she still appreciated solidarity, even if she would never tell me so.
I was in the next batch off the bus, with Deyu and Isharu.
It was getting dark, and an icy wind blew over the open space of the airport. A small solar plane was coming in to land.
They took us into the building, into a waiting room with rows of seats.
Fortunately, Sheydu’s planning and foresight had made sure that we carried at least some food, enough for the kids.
We waited. I was sure the room was bugged, so none of us said much. We looked out the window, which offered a view over a boring expanse of concrete where some trucks and other aviation-related vehicles were parked.
We were tired. This trip had turned into a disaster, and we needed to go to a safe place to regroup and re-think our strategy.
The kids were restless. Emi and Ileyu ran around and slid over the lino floor, which was disgusting and soon their knees and hands were black. There was a small toilet cubicle at the back of the waiting area, but the washbasin was so tiny that trying to clean unwilling toddlers resulted in a mess. I held Emi while Thayu tried to wipe the dirt off her hands. After a long day, Emi was so tired that she flew into a rage every time something didn’t go her way. She was screaming and worming to get out of my grip, while Ileyu “helpfully” made a washcloth wet and dripped water all over the front of her shirt.
In the middle of all this, the sound of an unfamiliar male voice came from the waiting room behind us.
I turned around, still holding Emi, both of us wet.
Emi fell quiet. Thayu took her from me, and quickly wiped her little hands before she got the chance to object.
A strange man had entered the room and looked around for someone for him to address, someone who could understand him.
At least I thought it was a man, but with his shoulder length pink hair, and his long flowing jacket and plenty of jewellery, I could be made to think otherwise.
“You’re Cory Wilson?” he asked.
Even the tone of his voice was ambiguous.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“I have been told to come and get you. There is a vehicle waiting outside the building. We have a very short departure window.”
“Wait. Where are we going?” And who was he, anyway? An introduction would be nice.
“I’m taking you back across the Atlantic. I’m not sure where we will be able to land, but it will be somewhere from where you should be able to return to Athens.”
“Well, that’s welcome news, but can we know a bit more about who sent you and why you’re here?” I’d have expected someone from Nations of Earth or the Exchange, not this character.
“I am here because I happened to be visiting New York for an art exhibition. My name is Jayde Colwin. I am an agent of Nations of Earth of sorts.”
“Do we know each other? I’ve heard your name mentioned before.”
“I work for Simon Dekker.”
And now I remembered why I knew his name. Simon Dekker had an American partner. This man was sure to be him. That was interesting. So he wouldn’t talk to me, but would send someone to stop me being an embarrassment to him?
“Ah, I see. I have a lot to say to President Dekker, but let’s deal with the important things first. When are we leaving?”
“Right now. The plane is ready.”
I told my team to gather up all their things, and within five minutes, we were out the door.
He took us through the corridors and courtyard out the back where a minibus waited.
There was only a driver with it, no security personnel.
“You don’t have any guards?”
I was beginning to feel iffy about this again.
If he turned out to have nefarious intentions, we could easily overpower the driver. Maybe that was what he wanted us to do: bait us. Was he really from Nations of Earth?
“Mr Wilson, you have to understand that we’re both on hostile territory. I’m not normally allowed to take any security guards when I come here. They’re waiting in the plane.”
“They really hate Nations of Earth, don’t they?”
“They don’t trust each other, that’s right. They view me, as native born New Yorker, with even greater suspicion. I know you have your doubts about me, but regardless of our differences on other subjects, trust me on this one.”
“I just want to get out of here.”
“I bet you do.”
Whatever that was supposed to mean. An air of superior morality dripped off him. OK, they didn’t like what I’d tried—and failed—to do. They saw him as a good samaritan rescuing me from an embarrassing position.
A small private aircraft was waiting, large enough to fit my entire extended team.
When our luggage was stowed, we all strapped in, and finally left this cursed continent. I watched the coastline recede in the deepening dusk.
I still didn’t like failure and kept thinking about alternate ways I could have presented my data to make Celia Braddock believe me and willing to cooperate. But I had to concede that this desire had probably been doomed from the moment I conceived the plan to reason with her. She had her own agenda, shaped through decades of mutual distrust. I wasn’t going to change anything with just one visit. She wasn’t interested in reason. Or the truth.
From gamra’s perspective, I had found important information. That would have to be my focus. Deliver this to the assembly and discuss it there, with Melissa and the other bureaucracy. But still, the stupidity…
The craft came with a single cabin crew member who provided us with decent food for the first time in days.
The children ate so much that he needed to scour the kitchenette for additional portions.
Then, when we were all satisfied, and I was starting to begin to feel very comfortable and sleepy, Jayde came out of the cockpit and sat down on the bench next to me, enveloping me in a smell of perfume.
He began, “There are several things you need to know. Once we’re over international waters, we will restore access to your devices, and you will see that the wo
rld has changed.”
I frowned at him.
“We’ve only been away from news for a few days.” We’d already heard about the attacks on other cities, right? Did this mean there was more?
“The attacks that were perpetrated on the major cities on the American continent were repeated throughout the world.”
“I know that. I spoke to someone about it.”
A hand of fear clamped around my heart. My father was all right, wasn’t he?
“Celia Braddock likes to make out that the New York attack was the worst. It was, but only in the Americas. Athens took a direct hit.”
“You’re kidding.” That’s what I’d feared. That would be why Amarru was so coy with information, and why her people weren’t out here already. Why all assistance to us had been rendered by Asto military. Because Ezhya had sent them, because Amarru and the Exchange didn’t have the bandwidth. Damn.
“Sadly, I’m not kidding.”
“Has any country taken any type of action?”
“Against what? We know nothing about the assailants.”
“I know who they are. We got to check out a drone that was shot down.”
His eyes widened. “You captured one?”
“No, we didn’t, but the day after the attacks, Celia Braddock boasted on the news that the Atlantian Air Force shot a drone down. She paraded the fragment in a press conference. We could see that it wasn’t gamra technology, as she claimed. This was why we went across the continent to have a look at this thing, to see if we could determine its origin. They were not very helpful, as you might understand. They were even less helpful when we pinpointed where the drone came from.”
“Let me guess, the Aghyrians?”
“No.”
“Then the Pretoria cartel?”
“No. Not them either. “
“You can’t suggest that Asto or any other gamra entity would do something like this?”
“Did you hear me say that? That’s what she wants to believe.”
“No, but I am out of ideas.”
“I will tell you something. Please understand that this is highly in sensitive information and I have only told the members of my team, and Celia Braddock, who banned me from the country in response. She didn’t like my conclusion.”
“That’s not unusual. She doesn’t like a lot of things.”
I sensed there was a lot of experience behind that remark. I was beginning to like this man. He had to have been forward-thinking to leave his home and the likes of Celia Braddock to come to live in Rotterdam. I might not like his partner, but this man at least was prepared to listen. I told him what we had found out, and as I spoke, his eyes widened.
He nodded when I spoke of the reports that people had just disappeared. He agreed that there had been a rebellious element within the spacefaring community after having their programs cut again and again. He agreed that they had been infiltrated with a paramilitary vibe. He said it was not unexpected, because many of them came from the military. And they would not have taken kindly to being told to stand down and disband.
He said, “Presuming you’re right—and I think your arguments are good—one thing I don’t understand is this: how did they manage to get a lot of this stuff off Earth? We’re talking about large ships to get into orbit, interstellar ships and space stations that nobody knew about.”
“I suspect they built a lot of their larger hardware in space. There are many questions we need to answer, but we need to speak with whichever governments will listen to us on how to prepare for their next action, because this is an emergency. We don’t know what they’ll do next. They sent drones, leaving us with no avenue to retaliate. There is that one ship approaching Earth that’s not communicating. I can arrange for it to be shot down, but I’ll absolutely need the agreement from the Nations of Earth assembly to do this. I would appreciate if you could raise this with the president.”
“One ship?”
“It’s only one ship, and it’s not very big. It might contain weapons, or it might contain a delegation to negotiate with us, or put forward their demands. We don’t know. We need to present a unified force to them. I would like to see the president as soon as possible.”
His expression closed. “You will understand that the president is very busy at the moment. Many cities are in ruins, and there is a need to render assistance to people who have lost property or loved ones.”
“The president needs to make sure that this doesn’t happen again. The drones may have self-destructed, but it’s clear what these people are capable of. They will have no hesitation to do it again. I don’t know why I can’t seem to get onto the president. It’s like he’s been avoiding me since he was elected.”
It seemed too ridiculous that it might be over a petty grievance about something that happened years ago.
“As I said, he is very busy.”
“I’m sure that’s not all of it. Are you sure there isn’t some sort of political pressure on him not to join gamra, even though the world has voted in favour?”
“I’m not in a position to comment on how he chooses to allocate his time.”
“At least tell me why he avoids me.”
“He’s not avoiding you.”
“Avoidance, being busy, whatever you want to call it, this has been a frustration ever since he was elected. With Margarethe, even with Danziger, I had a working relationship. When something happened, they would contact me. It wouldn’t always be nice for me. I’ve had Danziger shouting at me on several occasions, but he would reply to my messages.” Eventually, and quicker when he needed something from me.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Please, do.”
“Mr Wilson, I hope you understand that you’re a private citizen—granted, one with a bit of influence—but with no official function that justifies an urgent meeting with the president.”
I stared at him.
What the…
What the actual fuck.
I was going to ask him whether he didn’t think being Ezhya’s zhayma warranted a meeting, but I realised that it didn’t.
Any Coldi person would simply feel the loyalties, and official announcements or elaborate appointment diaries would be unnecessary, ridiculous even. But people at Nations of Earth had no understanding of the sheya instinct. For them, I was an arrogant upstart without official status. If I wanted to speak with the president, I could stand in the queue with all the lobbyists and minor politicians.
I let out a deep breath.
“I know he doesn’t want to or like me, but I’m asking for a bit of sensibility. Bury the political differences. There are people’s lives at risk. These people who attacked us will do this again. They only lost drones, and I’m sure they have a lot more where those drones came from. We can provide a lot of people and military power to snuff this attack out. It probably wouldn’t even take all that long. But If we don’t cooperate, Earth is going to be a sitting duck.”
“I’m sure he understands that.”
I got no further with him. It was all very frustrating.
He retired to the private cabin in the front of the craft, and we tried to sleep in our seats.
We arrived on the other side of the ocean without further incident.
It was dark, and from the air, I couldn’t make out where we were.
During the flight my team had regained Exchange coverage. They had been very busy with whatever things that security were busy with.
I scrolled through the news channels and read a lot of words on nothing. Everyone was still guessing about the drones. Several articles mentioned gamra. That gamra must know something, or that they would have seen something. Either way, gamra was assumed guilty by association. I even spotted an article that said that Earth should withdraw from the process of joining gamra.
Apart from who was responsible for the attacks, I had nothing to
give them. No names, no planet of origin, no reasons.
The attacks seemed pointless, because they had achieved nothing. They might be a warning about what they might do to Earth if we didn’t give into their demands, or something. If they just told us what the demands were, that would be helpful. We would also have someone to communicate with. And know where their base was.
It turned out that we had landed somewhere close to Paris.
A bus waited at the airport building to take us to the train station, and we hired cabins on the fast train that took us across the continent.
The pale morning light showed us sporadic evidence where attacks had hit, as smoke plumes hanging over the horizon. I was hitting myself on the head for believing that the attacks had only affected New York badly. How easy it was to be deceived when you became isolated from independent information.
There were very few passengers on the train. Our team spread out over the seats and adjacent cabins.
Any of us not asleep tried to raise responses from Nations of Earth. The lines were out or extremely busy.
We arrived in Athens without having spoken to Dekker or anyone else at Nations of Earth. We went from the train station to a taxi-bus to take us to the Exchange.
It was mid-afternoon, and a line of vehicles waited to get to the entrance of the building. It stretched all the way along the date palm lined driveway, through the gate and onto the street outside. The other vehicles were also taxis or buses.
Damn, this reminded me of the time immediately after the attack on Sirkonen. People were being taken off-world. Large numbers of people.
My courage sank, then.
My life’s work lay in pieces.
Had I really worked my butt off in the past few years for nothing? Had I wasted my time supporting the referendum and Margarethe? Would it have been better to just let Earth be Earth and ignore it?
Chapter Thirty-Six
It took us a fair amount of time to make it to the entrance, where a few harried attendants tried to organise the chaos of desperate travellers into groups. Anyone who needs tickets, this way please, regular passengers, this way.
