by Patty Jansen
From the crowded stairs we went into the plaza, where the multi-hued spots of light falling through the ceiling window turned the groups of chatting delegates into a playful kaleidoscope of colours. We crossed the ground floor and went up the stairs to an apartment opposite mine. A bevy of guards waited outside the door, a solid wall of Coldi muscle, clad in body armour over silver temperature-retaining suits. All wore the red belts of Asto’s Inner Circle service. They carried charge guns, and arms and legs bulged with various attachments and pockets, hooks and electronic equipment. Out of the four, two were women, both with muscles that would put a body builder to shame. I had admired Thayu’s athletic build, but she looked emaciated compared to these guards.
They parted to let our group through, none of them meeting our eyes, as per Coldi protocol. A guard opened the door.
I walked inside, into a wall of dry heat that seared my skin, like midday in Arcadia, somewhere in the high forties, perhaps even hotter. I had to stop, concentrating on breathing, my eyes watering, thinking that I would never be able to stay for more than five minutes. Could I go back to take two extra infusor doses without losing face?
Gradually, my body became used to the dry heat, although sweat poured off me, seeping into my shirt in ugly dark stains.
Thayu glanced at me, a look of concern on her face.
I gave a small nod, as if to say I’m fine. I had lived in Arcadia after all. Without climatic adaptation.
We were in a hall such as the one in my apartment. Bright light radiated from what looked like glow-in-the-dark towel rods mounted vertically along the walls.
A fluffy maroon carpet covered the middle of the floor, the area in which there was a five-pointed star in the hall of my apartment. I also noticed that this floor was plain white stone. Coldi valued simplicity.
Opposite the door stood a table with, on one side, a glittering gemstone on a thin but very tall stand of silvery metal, looking like some absurd insect’s feeler. On the other side of the table a number of rough rocks lay in a glass dish.
A typically Coldi arrangement, symbolising rimoyu, balance, a state of perfection in the Coldi mind. That was why they always did everything in pairs.
Having heard a bit about the Coldi penchant for precious stones, I could only imagine that the stone on the stand was worth a fortune. Elevated over the unworked rocks, it probably meant to say that refinement wins over crudeness. I had learned from Nicha that it was important to pay attention to these types of items when coming to a Coldi house, because they were rarely purely decorative, but said something about the mood of the host and the subject he or she wanted to cover.
So—was I right in interpreting that Ezhya Palayi wanted me to ease on demands and anger? I glanced at Thayu, who looked quite relaxed. I had no idea if I should have put my feeder back. Thayu hadn’t said anything about it, and I surmised that whatever communication we had through it wouldn’t be private anyway. Rumours went that Ezhya Palayi had no less than three feeders and that his immediate advising staff needed special training to keep up with him. Probably I was safer without.
Guards led me into the sitting room, also paved with the same smooth white stone, and devoid of the bathing pool so popular with the locals.
Coldi hated water.
Here, too, there were carpets, and low tables made from heavy beams of material that looked like granite. Cushions on the floor and the heavy curtains that half-obscured the windows were all maroon, which I knew to be a much-favoured colour, and I wondered what this signified, because Coldi didn’t see the colour red, yet Nicha could tell the difference between this rich maroon and black.
Ezhya Palayi sat on a couch near the window, legs crossed, Buddha-like, his hands resting in his lap.
From close up, his age showed more than it had in the assembly hall. Strands of white highlighted his hair, giving it the impression of a partly albino peacock, a salt-and-pepper look that softened the normally harsh lines of the Coldi face.
I didn’t meet his eyes. In his home, that would not be appropriate. I performed a greeting such as Coldi gave a superior, a small bow with the hands by my sides. I hated every bit of this subservience, but I wasn’t about to start off the meeting by offending him. There would be plenty of offending later.
“Sit.” The voice was decisive without being overly harsh.
I sat.
Only then did I notice the second person in the room, on a couch to his left. Someone tall, with long white hair, wearing a long blue- and gold-rimmed robe. I shot up and bowed for the second time. “My excuses. I didn’t realise the Delegate was here.”
“I did not advertise it.” Faint amusement coloured Chief Delegate Akhtari’s voice; she used professional, not formal, pronouns. “I believe, though, that what you have to say is important enough for me to hear.”
I resettled on the couch feeling more uneasy. I guessed she knew the content of Danziger’s message, and I wondered who she was going to side with to make the other man squirm.
These two people facing me held all of gamra, all its member and even non-member entities, in their grip. I had no doubt that both of them regarded me as a chess piece to be moved to their advantage. “I am afraid you are right about the urgency of this matter, Delegate. We need to move so that it doesn’t get out of hand.”
“Indeed, talks are very much called for. A person can only hope that all parties will be restrained in their reactions.” A slight barb to Danziger. She said nothing about the fact that Nations of Earth wanted to recall me, so I guessed no one had officially notified her.
From the seat to my right, Ezhya Palayi gave a snort. “So what’s all this about?”
Typical Coldi.
I bowed to Delegate Akhtari. “My excuses, Delegate.”
“The Delegate has no reason to give excuses. It is other parties that are not observing protocol.” And that was a definite barb in Ezhya Palayi’s direction. What had the two of them been discussing before I came?
Even with my eyes downcast, I noticed Ezhya Palayi glaring at her. “There is no protocol to be observed. Just tell us what it’s about.”
I couldn’t help but agree with him.
In total silence, I put my reader on the table, unfolding the projection stand. By now I was so hot that a sheen of sweat coated my hands and made slippery marks on everything I touched. It was hard to concentrate. “My president sent me the information I’m about to show, and it greatly disturbs me, as it has disturbed him.” I activated the projector.
A copy of the plan hung in the air, with drawn outlines of buildings, streets, landing pads, even a separate Exchange node.
“As far as we can determine, this is a project planned by Asto to be located on Earth, and as far as my president has been able to ascertain, without the approval of the local governments or Nations of Earth. The proposed locality of this project would be here.” I zoomed out to show a map of northern Africa. It also showed the Mediterranean and the southern part of Greece, with the location of the Exchange clearly marked.
Since I wasn’t allowed to look Ezhya Palayi in the face, I could only guess what the man thought by glancing out of the corner of my eye. And that didn’t give me much of a clue. No frown, no hand raised to his mouth, no laughter. There was a silence which seemed to go on for a long time.
Then he asked, “Where did your president get this material?” Again, there was little emotion in the voice.
“He says it came from the office of the previous president.” I wiped sweat from my forehead. Sweat stung the skin on my cheeks after its abuse with the blunt razor.
“The one who was killed?”
“Yes.”
Another short silence. I imagined getting comments about Asto’s involvement, denials, accusations even against Nations of
Earth, but the silence lingered. I remembered the table arrangement in the hall and the relevant proverb came to me. A gem on a ring has more clout than a gem in the ground. Refinement gets you further than brute force.
Faced with my rude, in gamra’s eyes, provocation, he seemed to take his own advice to heart.
Then a yellow-skinned hand moved into my field of vision. “May I?”
“At your service.”
I pushed the reader over the table.
Ezhya Palayi zoomed in again until the plan reappeared, then scrolled through all corners of it. Then he pointed to a handwritten scrawl at the bottom of one of the architectural drawings.
“This is signed by Mizha.”
I scrambled through my knowledge of Asto’s Inner Circle for the name Mizha, but drew a blank. By the way Thayu raised her eyebrows, she didn’t seem to know either. That was odd, because Coldi always knew everything about their world.
Delegate Akhtari leaned further forward, her hair falling over her shoulders. “Mizha? What would it be doing in the killed president’s possession?”
“The question asks itself.” He turned to me.
“The current president didn’t tell me.” Sirkonen seemed to have had a lot of things he shouldn’t have had. “At this moment, he is of the belief that Asto is about to invade Earth to put this plan into action. I feel it my task to assess if it’s genuine, or some sort of hoax.”
Ezhya Palayi gave a chuckle. “Oh, it’s genuine all right.”
“You mean . . .” My heart hammered in my throat.
Across the room Delegate Akhtari looked on, long fingers worrying at her upper lip.
Ezhya Palayi continued, “I mean that this plan, these maps are genuine. This plan was approved by an Asto Chief Coordinator. Mizha was a predecessor.”
Thayu spoke up, “But with respect, I thought your predecessor’s name was—”
“Shaya, yes. Mizha took over in 3278.”
In Earth years, that was in . . . 1975.
Oh.
I frowned at Thayu. Why would Danziger be worried about a plan more than a hundred years old?
Staring at the projection, Thayu said softly, “There is no date on this.”
I had noticed that, too.
“No,” Ezhya Palayi said. “The date would instantly give this away as a hoax. I don’t know who obtained these plans and what their aim is releasing them now, but someone is trying to destabilise Asto’s relationship with Nations of Earth and gamra by doing so.”
“Someone?” I was too numb to feel angry, so much of a shock it was to me.
“I would very much like to know how your president obtained this data.”
“It’s the president’s jurisdiction, so he has every right to have knowledge of this. I am afraid that this revelation will be a great danger to the relationship, especially in the light of what has happened. Already, people are saying that Asto killed the president because he was about to make this plan public. If it’s not genuine then Nations of Earth is going to want some very strong apologies, before relationships can deteriorate further.” All right, I was angry now.
Delegate Akhtari snorted. “If I may be so impolite, Ezhya, but I fully support the Delegate’s outrage. This . . .” She gestured at the screen. “. . . is a gross violation of gamra law.”
“Which is probably why Mizha didn’t judge it worth the risk.” I wondered how the man stayed completely calm.
My heart still beating furiously, I said, “Just to be clear: the plan is dead.”
“Yes. It was never approved by the First Circle administrators.”
Never revived either? Asto always had overcrowding issues. They didn’t produce enough food for their own population. This was a sophisticated design, with a lot of detail. Did I believe him?
I glanced at Delegate Akhtari. Did she believe him? I thought not.
There was a brief moment of silence, in which Thayu fiddled with some of her equipment. She glanced at the screen of her comm unit. Her eyes widened, but then she tucked the unit away.
“That still leaves the question: what is this material doing in the president’s hands?” Ezhya Palayi was looking uncomfortably at me while he said this and I was resisting the urge to return his gaze and tell him he’d better answer that himself. No, I didn’t believe him either. I knew that much of Asto’s government structure. First Circle administrators didn’t have the authority to make decisions as big as this. They only had the power to make decisions when delegated by the Inner Circle and, most likely, vetted by the power at the very top. I hadn’t missed the bank of readers with the Asto command key in the corner of the room. This man looked in on every decision made in his name. This man was not a good-natured leader. By Earth definitions, he was an absolute dictator.
Ravaged by hunger and poverty, Saharan countries might well have sold large areas of land to Asto. There might well be an underground population of Coldi operating in Africa. The Coldi might well own the land, never mind that they hadn’t yet built anything on it.
Then, to my surprise, Ezhya Palayi said, “Joyelin, I would appreciate if I could have a private word with the Delegate.”
Delegate Akhtari raised one thin eyebrow, but rose and left the room, taking two black-clad guards with her.
As soon as she had left, Ezhya Palayi snapped his fingers at the guard at the door, who went to the other side of the room, opened a cupboard, and reached inside. Rows of lights winked off. Turning off the recording equipment. Thayu watched with hungry eyes.
Ezhya Palayi of course owned this apartment and could turn off the listening equipment whenever he pleased. If I turned off any of my listening devices, I bet I would have someone bashing down my door within half an hour, if not sooner.
Even the guards left.
Thayu did not. I met her eyes briefly; they blazed with anger. I mouthed what? Anger and irritation simmered just under the surface. My shirt clung to me with sweat, and my head swam with dizziness. The heat was worse than midday in the sun at Taurus, but I would not give in.
A yellow-skinned hand reached out, hot even in this searing temperature, and touched my chin, pushing it up until my eyes met Ezhya’s. The irises glimmered with golden spots. I tried not to feel belittled by this gesture. To be allowed to face him was a victory in Coldi eyes, but, damn it, I was too hot to think rationally, and I was not a toddler and found it very hard not to feel treated as one at this moment.
A minute passed during which we just looked into each other’s eyes. My heart thudded like crazy. This was the moment of danger. Was he going to react to me? If he did, I only had Thayu to protect me, and I wasn’t sure that she wouldn’t support him over me.
He blinked. Stiffened. Blinked again.
And settled back on the couch.
I let out a breath. Whatever his instinct had decided about me, I was not deemed to be a direct threat.
He said, “I am strongly aware that Asto is being blamed for the death of the president, especially in light of this information you have just shown me.”
I fought to concentrate. “It is true. My president demands an explanation.”
“So do we. Tell me this: if we wanted to kill the president, would we have left the building standing?”
Was that a threat or an admission?
“Oh, do not think that we haven’t considered sending the military. The military is still on standby. We sent your president a writ. It would be good to know whether he intends to reply.”
“A writ? For what purpose?” This was going in an entirely unexpected direction. Surely accusing Asto wasn’t an offence that justified a legal action as severe as a writ? They mostly covered property matters, and crime. If anything, if there was enough evide
nce, Asto would have expected a writ from Nations of Earth asking for explanation. A writ which would have included evidence for Nations of Earth’s position.
This was . . . unexpected.
He continued, his voice more measured. “I commissioned some work to be done by a leading scientist. We paid for her time, her expertise. Secrecy was important, because we did not want to raise panic within our own population. She promised us this secrecy, for a handsome payment, and as far as we can ascertain, she did the work. The next thing we knew, your president was talking about the results. We then contacted the scientist, who said that she had been pressured into giving the information to the president, and that she had no choice or harm would come to her.”
Shit. Elsi Schumacher. This was getting more complicated by the day. “What sort of work? I’m guessing it was a climate assessment?”
“It was indeed.”
“For what purpose?”
“There have been some disturbing changes in our climate recently. The people of Asto are nervous and want to understand what is happening. Nothing of this scale has happened before, and on your world it has. I wanted predictions and models so that we can allay people’s fears and plan for the future. It seems that some are already panicking.”
“Like planning settlements on Earth.”
“That is a totally false allegation.” His voice was now downright angry. “The plans pre-date this information by many years, which is probably why the person who wanted your president to draw that conclusion removed the date.”
I didn’t allow myself to be intimidated, even though I was now so hot I thought I’d faint. I wasn’t sure whether to believe him; I couldn’t think properly. “Do you realise that the scientist who did the work has also been killed?”
“I do. It seems that she has disappeared with her work, and that even a writ to return the material for which we have paid—which expired yesterday and is awaiting my instructions—has not produced results.”
I realised the value of what I had in my apartment: Sirkonen’s datastick, that I needed to fix. “My president does not understand the nature of Asto writs.”
