Ambassador 1: Seeing Red (Ambassador: Space Opera Thriller)

by Patty Jansen

  “Thank you, Delegate. I was going to address those subjects in my speech.”

  A few people snorted. I didn’t think it was funny at all—in fact I was going to kick the movie producer’s arse all the way to Jupiter.

  I continued, “I should perhaps point out to the Delegate, and others in this assembly who are of the same mind, that there have been no official statements appropriating blame.” Goddamned royal-I in return. The level of murmur in the audience increased. “I should also point out that until a proper investigation comes up with a result, I am not laying the blame for the murder of my president with anyone and it is unwise for any entities to do so.” I met the man’s eyes squarely, acutely aware that it was very much against Coldi custom to do so. He expected me to behave as subordinate, because everyone else did.

  Ezhya Palayi returned the stare. “Yet, your president has closed the Exchange and, therefore, he is laying blame.”

  “The president of Nations of Earth is trying to sort out what has happened. I have cautioned him against speaking out too clearly.” Never mind that Danziger wasn’t listening. “I understand why he makes allegations of gamra involvement.”

  “A correction, Delegate, he makes allegations of Coldi involvement.”

  “The people of my entity make that specific allegation, not the president.”

  Another voice came from somewhere to my right. “Is that because when your people look around, all they see is Coldi?”

  Ezhya Palayi’s withering gaze found the speaker, a dark Indrahui, at the same time the spotlight did. “What do you imply by that, Delegate?”

  This man, too, returned the Asto leader’s gaze squarely. “I refer to rule 91-473 of gamra, that in order to remain in the network, no entity shall annex another, either by force or by stealth.”

  Oof, that was a direct hit. I could feel Thayu recoil. Of course Asto was being accused of doing just that on Earth.

  Someone yelled from the back of the hall, “Slander!”

  More shouts broke out.

  Ezhya Palayi glared at the man. “Delegate, this allegation seems a little ironic. Aren’t your people at Indrahui doing just that—annexing another people’s land?”

  Now an avalanche of shouts burst from all sides of the hall.

  Delegate Akhtari rang the bell. “Language, Delegates, language!” When the level of noise had fallen, she continued, “The establishment shall conduct this meeting in orderly fashion and not roam off topic. Sit down.” She glared at Ezhya Palayi. “All delegates.”

  He slowly unfolded his arms and sank behind the partition of the nearest delegate’s box, all without apparent emotion. The regular occupants of the box stared at him.

  I continued, “I assure zhamata that if my entity has been invaded or annexed, my people do not know about it.”

  More snorts rose from the audience, this time from the Coldi delegates.

  “I have prepared, as several delegates have requested, a brief outline of the history of gamra interests in my world.” I quickly substituted gamra for “Coldi”, but the history was exclusively Coldi. Yet I refused to believe in the invasion by stealth theory. The first Coldi settlers had been refugees from an oppressive regime, with little more in common than a desire for freedom and to be as inconspicuous as possible. They had cut their ties with Asto and were as remote from the regime as I was from the old generation diplomats of Nations of Earth.

  “Meanwhile, gamra must act decisively.” I continued and turned to Ezhya Palayi. “The president of Nations of Earth may have poor manners in this assembly’s view, but their laws work differently. The authorities have decreed that no force must be spared to find the people responsible for the murder of the president. The investigation will be conducted by military forces.” Of course I meant police but Coldi had no such word, having little need for internal law enforcement, because their loyalty networks already dealt with crimes, brutally so. “Their laws require no official accusation to suspected individuals before their arrest. They do not use writs and ultimatums. According to their law, people will be taken into custody without opportunity to prove themselves innocent; people have already been taken into custody.”

  “So,” Ezhya Palayi continued. He had risen to his feet again. “Your president accuses us specifically.”

  Delegate Akhtari shot him a sharp look. “This has already been said.”

  “I repeat it, because the assembly has a right to know why this accusation was made. In fact, our delegation has made it clear we expect an answer today.” Accusatory pronouns now. “So tell me now, Delegate, and show us all the proof. Why is your silly and ineffective Nations of Earth accusing us of this deed?”

  Here it was, and oh, that us was polemic. Delegate Akhtari picked up the bell—

  Thayu recoiled—

  I gripped the edges of the dais. He was not going to bully me. “I am not at liberty to discuss the investigation.”

  “That’s because you don’t know.” Accusatory-you. “There is no evidence.”

  “Language!” Delegate Akhtari’s sharp voice boomed through the hall.

  Ezhya Palayi spread his hands in a melodramatic gesture of protest. “This man here does not answer our questions. How can we deny what we’re supposed to have done if there is no official accusation? If there is no proof?”

  “That is why I have appealed for this discussion to be delayed.” I turned to Delegate Akhtari. “Meanwhile, I think it would be beneficial, Delegate, if the establishment sign a statement for our president that no entity with gamra, including Asto, is responsible.”

  “I propose a vote on that,” someone shouted.

  Many thumped on the desks, not entirely for the right reasons, I feared. They thought Asto was guilty, and by demanding a vote, they would force Asto either to admit guilt, or to lie, and both had deep consequences for an entity’s entitlements within gamra.

  Delegate Akhtari rang her bell. “Quiet, Delegates, quiet!”

  Ezhya Palayi harrumphed, but gave a single nod and sat down. “We will have no trouble writing such a statement.” Anger oozed from those words. “Asto votes that it be sent as soon as possible.”

  There was some cheering in the back of the hall, and some grumbling, but no one said out loud that they thought Asto did have a hand in killing Sirkonen. This vote would put that issue to bed as well, I was sure, because whatever was said, I could see no way in which Asto would profit from a strike at Sirkonen, and many ways in which it would lose.

  Delegate Akhtari rang her bell. “Is the establishment then in agreement to take a vote on this issue?”

  There was a lot of murmuring, but no protests.

  “Also note that by voting positive, Delegates will swear that their represented entity has no official involvement.”

  The desk screen in the dais went black. In golden letters flashed the text, Gamra Eysh’ zhamadata should send a statement denying all involvement of the establishment and its members in the murder of the leader of Nations of Earth.

  Underneath the question, clearly marked, each in its own box, were the two choices, for or against.

  I pressed for in my first-ever vote, one that would seal my own future. I cast glances around the hall, as if to spy what others were voting, but of course couldn’t see from my position at the speaking dais.

  The level of murmur rose again, until Delegate Akhtari rang the bell. “Three hundred and two delegates voted positive; five delegates negative. The vote is carried in favour of the positive. The establishment will arrange for a statement to be sent.”

  I blew out a breath of relief. I could find out later who the five nay voters were, but I half suspected they voted against the majority out of belligerence.

  The important one—Asto—had vote
d yes. That’s what mattered most to me. I didn’t know if that meant the attack on the Exchange was off, but the ball was back in Nations of Earth’s court.

  Next it was time for my historical presentation, which went well enough. I was so busy watching reactions that I stuffed up on some of the tables, but I doubted anyone noticed.

  “You’re a fool,” Thayu whispered to me when we walked back up to our box. “But a fool who defended himself well.”

  I didn’t miss the tinge of admiration in her voice.

  “Sometimes you just need to take a risk,” I said.

  Our eyes met longer than necessary.

  * * *

  Next on the agenda were some technical discussions about improvements to the Exchange network, then a proposed amendment to the official definition of the term “refugee”, followed by a lengthy argument about raising prices for transfers.

  Ezhya Palayi left halfway through this discussion, surrounded by the solid, maroon-and-silver figures of his bodyguards.

  Yes, he had indeed come for me.

  Thayu and I, Devlis and the female assistant went back to the apartment after the sitting concluded, collecting Evi and Telaris at the door. By now it was almost midday and sunlight beat down on courtyards, casting harsh, double-edged shadows on pavements and tables. Not having eaten since before dawn, I felt dizzy.

  As soon as we came into the door, a mouth-watering smell of baked bread, hearty soup and smoked fish tortured me. A glimpse into the sitting room revealed a veritable feast on the table.

  I turned to Thayu. “Go inside. I’ll quickly check the messages.” Maybe Melissa had written, or Eva. Danziger’s statement wouldn’t be made until later tonight.

  You work too hard.

  And now she was starting to sound like Eva.

  I grumbled a deliberately vague response, and as I went into the communication room, I raked my hand through my hair. The “legs” of the feeder latched onto my fingers, allowing me to pull the device clear of the skin.

  A switch turned in my head. Off. Blissful silence. No more interference with my thoughts. No more accidentally stumbling into hers.

  I was in the mood for a long letter from Eva, full of trivialities about wedding dresses and guest lists, but when I had slipped into the chair behind the control panel of the communication hub, the first thing that came up was a message from the secretary to the president of Nations of Earth, very official looking, with the Nations of Earth symbol and a picture of the assembly hall with its grand columns and marble steps.

  The main content of the message, however, was from Danziger, written last night. Oh damn. I’d spent four days waiting for this. Couldn’t he have sent this a few hours earlier?

  Mr Wilson,

  I have been most disconcerted with allegations raised by you in your article at Flash Newspoint.

  In response, I want to make a number of things clear to you.

  Nations of Earth have not cut your funding and have not isolated you or interfered in your communication. While it is true that a number of countries, as well as the emergency council, wished your position to be cancelled, this vote did not pass in the general assembly.

  More importantly, and I will be making an official statement about this later today, upon occupying late President Sirkonen’s office I uncovered a number of documents relating to the matters you have been studying, or so Ms Murchison tells me, namely the history of Coldi involvement in Earth matters.

  In doing so, I have come upon some material that I find downright disturbing. There is evidence of serious plans to relocate a large part of Asto’s population to Earth. We have detailed technical drawings of a string of settlements planned for the northern and western fringe of the Sahara Desert. I send you this material which I have presented to the emergency council and which was received with utmost concern. There is absolutely no evidence that governments of concerned countries on Earth were ever consulted. I do not take a positive view of this material. It seems to me that those who have claimed danger of an invasion have been right.

  In response to this, the general assembly has voted for you to be recalled. I have arranged for funding for your immediate return to Rotterdam.

  Sigobert Danziger, Acting President, Nations of Earth.

  ‎

  Chapter 16

  * * *

  I OPENED UP the documents that had come with Danziger’s letter.

  Street plans, buildings, satellite photos of an area in the Sahara with the outlines of the plan drawn in. Huge complexes of units. Accommodation for thousands, tens, hundreds of thousands of people. Detailed plans with explanations in Coldi.

  My heart thudded in my throat. Wherever did this come from? How had it fallen into Sirkonen’s hands? I looked for information, a name, a date on the document, but found none. Instead, there were balance sheets of costs, including a plan for transporting a huge number of people across the Mediterranean unnoticed. They even had damned security.

  Oh, shit.

  Whichever way I looked at it, a large-scale Coldi migration to a poor African country which had probably been paid for the land without the knowledge of Nations of Earth amounted to an invasion. A silent, peaceful invasion, but an invasion nevertheless. Exactly the sort of thing people had feared. Present this in the emergency council, and representatives would go ballistic, which was what they had done.

  Closed the Exchange.

  Limited off-Earth communication.

  Yet why had no one told me about this?

  Because you’re so far in bed with the enemy, Delegate, you don’t know which is the right door out of the bedroom. Or so had Eva’s father said not so long ago, in one of our heated discussions.

  I’d known about Asto’s bugs in electronic surveillance. I’d judged them benign.

  And it seemed I had been very, very wrong.

  Meanwhile I’d spent a large part of my speech this morning defending Asto’s innocence? And Ezhya Palayi accused me of double standards while at the same time he said he would vote—wait.

  I brought up the gamra link, with the results of this morning’s voting. I was right, Asto had voted for making the statement that no entity of gamra was involved, including Asto. That meant that they were in breach of gamra law. My fingers trembling with anger, I opened up a blank message. I was going to—

  No. Telling Delegate Akhtari would solve nothing; she was a bureaucrat, and I couldn’t say I trusted her.

  I was going to face the bully head-on. Hopefully, Ezhya Palayi hadn’t left Barresh yet. I typed, I need to see you immediately about a matter of great importance. With commanding pronouns. I signed off with my name and selected send before I changed my mind. There. I was going to play him at his own games.

  Now—what was I to do about Danziger’s command to come back?

  According to my contract of employment, Nations of Earth could recall me for a specified period of time, and gamra would need to be notified.

  Had Danziger done that?

  Come to Rotterdam to do what? To be carpeted for disappearing under the noses of Nations of Earth Special Services Branch spies? To face suspicion about this plan, which I had to have known about, otherwise why had I left so quickly? To join Nicha in custody? Defying Danziger’s order would probably amount to resignation. I was pretty much on my own already, but if I did that, I’d lose all the leverage I had.

  No, I would have to do something else; but until I had a brilliant idea, I’d have to stall.

  I sent off a quick message to the office downstairs to ask if the money for travel had come in from Nations of Earth. It had.

  I fired back another message, Set it aside and do not touch it.

  Then I sent a message to Danziger, According to
my contract, gamra authorities will need to be notified if I am to be recalled. I would like to know if this has been done.

  Send.

  Let Danziger take a few days to answer that, then I’d ask another question. Decide what to do when I had the answer. Could I possibly enlist some gamra support to keep me here?

  “Are you coming? The staff are impatient to start serving.”

  Thayu’s voice jolted me out of my concentration.

  I stared at her, vaguely remembering lunch. “I’ll be there soon.” Damn, I didn’t have the time for lunch.

  “The food is really good.”

  “Yes, yes, I’m coming.” Dazed, I pressed myself off the seat. I hesitated, then quickly copied the plan onto my reader and carried that into the sitting room. I slotted the original into my code-protected work area.

  Thayu hadn’t lied. A gauze-like golden cloth covered the table, and on it stood a selection of bowls and plates so colourful I could barely believe all this was edible. There were slices of fruit—orange, yellow, red and vivid purple, salads in green, white and red, jars of juices, smoked fish—or so I thought—pickled mushrooms, nuts, various kinds of bread and of course the ever-present red tea.

  Eirani waited at the head of the table, giving me a sharp look when I put my reader next to me and sat down.

  “The staff promised to show the Delegate proper food. This is the local food of Barresh, Delegate. All the freshest, best quality the markets offer. This bread is made from the nuts of the megon tree.”