One piece, “The Lady of Illidian” particularly captivated her, and as Celina sang, thoughts and associations drifted through her mind, rising and falling with the melody. As “The Lady” finally reached its crescendo, she realized that she had heard it somewhere before.
Then she remembered where, and with whom. Lena loved this song, she thought.
Her smile, and her pleasant mood vanished completely.
Who the fek was Lena? she wondered in alarm.
She was becoming more than just ‘burned out’, she realized. Between weird shess like this, and all the recurring dreams she’d been having, real madness was starting to look like a distinct possibility.
“I’ve got to get out of here,” she announced, rising abruptly.
Margasdaater tried to lay a hand on her arm, but Kaly broke free, and left the amphitheater.
She had also made up her mind. When her tour came up for renewal, she was going to tell the RSE to go and fek itself. She was finished with the ETR, and done with being a soldier. It was time for her to start living another life. Before she went totally klaxxy.
***
With the assistance of Claire d’Layne’s Senior Activities Officer and her staff, and despite all the last minute changes that she’d been forced to institute, the concert for the troops went off without any problems. The show was held in a special assembly area, which had been built for her by the Marine Engineers, and the seats were crowded to capacity, with more uniformed women standing in the back and in the aisles.
Because Realie simulations were restricted in the ETR for trade and security reasons, she had resorted to an old and reliable standby; holo imagery and a combination of live and digital sounds. It had been years since she had used them for a performance, but it all came back to her.
And naturally, Clio was there, recording the entire thing for “The Song of Humanity”. One of the best parts, although she had had her doubts about including it, proved to be a rendition of “Jenny has Gone for a Soldier.”
Celina had been concerned that it would remind the troops too much of what they had left behind, but she had misjudged her audience. Instead of depressing them, it made them remember why they had decided to join up in the first place, and brought them together. This reaction, and their response to one of her more upbeat pieces, wound up making the performance one of the best that she had given in years. So much so, that she had even been tempted to swear off the more ‘technical’ shows, and going back to doing things the old fashioned way. Almost.
***
The following morning, Celina was taken out on a tour of the capitol. Her first stop was what in the Sisterhood would have been called a mixed primary/secondary institution. When she arrived, the children—all of them girls—were lined up in rows and according to height. As a group, they were all healthy, attractive, and impeccably dressed for the occasion.
The school itself was one of the ones that the Marine Engineers had built for the Republic, and their headmistress had made certain that her pupils were all attired in garments that reflected their star-nation’s national colors; gleaming white blouses, red scarves and perfectly creased black skirts. Their rendition of the ETR’s national anthem, “For the Glory of the Republic” was as flawless as their appearance.
Listening to them in the courtyard of Publa Escaul Cantida Una, Public School Number 1, Celina rewarded the young performers with her broadest smile of approval, and then made a point of not only posing with them for the benefit of the military journalists, but also exchanging bows with their music teacher before handing out autographed copies of her work. In holovid format of course. That technology wasn’t restricted, and lacking psievers, it was something that the girls could actually enjoy.
But by the end of it all, Celina was eager to leave the place. As pleasant as her visit had been, it was not the ETR that she had come to capture for her realie. She wanted the chance to walk its streets, and meet the real people who made up its citizenry. So far though, her military handlers, and the Embassy women, had been doing everything they could to divert her into carefully controlled situations that were too sanitized to provide anything worthy of her project.
The only partial exception to this had been earlier in the day, when she had been allowed to visit a military police detachment. The unit had been composed of both Sisterhood troopers and local Garda soldiers, and everyone had been extraordinarily careful to show only their best sides to her, and overemphasize the close cooperation that the two forces enjoyed.
She wasn’t the fool that they thought she was though. None of what she had been shown tallied with the slogan she had seen on her first day. Or with the people who had been under arrest for painting it.
She was positive that there was more to the story than anyone wanted her to see. Even if nothing happened beyond the graffiti, there was a tension in the air that was impossible to miss.
Whether or not she would find out what the truth was, was another matter. So far, all she had discovered was a growing sense of frustration at being ‘managed’.
COMINT Center, Sub-Basement, Embassy of the United Sisterhood of Suns, Nuvo Bolivar, Magdala Provensa, Esteral Terrana Rapabla, 1048.10|04|03:76:92
Sarah had convened an impromptu meeting in her cubicle in the COMINT center. Sa’Tela had an important update concerning Celina.
“We finally have some confirmation that the Loyalistas intend to take some form of action against her,” Sa’Tela announced. “Our assets are telling us that they will either attempt some kind of attack, or try to enlist her in their cause some time within the next 24 hours.”
Whispers had been circulating since well before the singer’s arrival about this, but until then they had only been unsubstantiated rumors. For that reason, Celina’s security measures had been general in nature, and hadn’t addressed a specific threat.
“Which is more likely?” Sarah asked her with a touch of impatience. ”Is it to be an attack or a proposition?”
“That depends upon the faction,” the Kalian stated. Everyone knew exactly what she meant. Far from being one united front, the rebels were actually dozens of organizations, often with conflicting objectives. They tended to fight one another almost as much as they fought the Sisterhood or the Rightists.
“At least two of them want to kidnap her, or attempt an assassination. The rest seem to think that she will help them by raising public awareness against us. The probabilities tend to weigh heavily towards recruitment.”
“I take it that we still have measures in place to monitor the situation?” Sarah inquired. Celina’s suite was filled with microscopic spy devices and personnel had been assigned to watch her around the clock.
“We do, ma’am,” Sa’Tela replied. “Our surveillance is ongoing, and we are monitoring everyone that she comes in contact with.”
“Good,” Sarah said. “Now we need to make certain that the Loyalistas succeed in their little bid for freedom.”
Sa’Tela was taken aback. “Ma’am?”
“As soon as we know that they are not sending an assassin to murder her, we have to ensure that their courier reaches their destination,” Sarah told her. “Afterwards, ensure that whatever information Celina receives is quietly erased. I also want the courier tracked once they leave, but they are not to be arrested.”
“But ma’am—“Sa’Tela started to object.
“I have direct orders from Thermadon concerning this,” Sarah told her. “General bel Thana and I spoke this morning, and she told me that we are not to interfere with any meeting between Celina and the rebels. Have some women in place—well-hidden of course—and make sure that the singer is safe, but otherwise let things happen as they do. Is that clear, Lieutenant?”
Nonplussed, Sa’Tela inclined her head. “Yes, ma’am. It is”
Maya was just as confused, but knew from personal experience that the Agency often did some very strange things, and it was generally better not to ask why. The reasons would make themselves known in ti
me. They always did, if one was patient enough.
Sarah stood, a clear sign that their gathering was over. Maya was starting to join her when something caught her eye out in the COMINT center.
Several of the monitors were displaying an image of the west side of the Embassy at street level, and a large ‘lectri delivery truck had just pulled up and stopped. This area was a strictly enforced ‘No Parking Zone’ and Maya saw that the Embassy Security Commander was visibly excited, and barking out orders to her subordinates, but the thick glass walls of the conference cubicle prevented her from hearing precisely what the woman was saying. It didn’t prevent her from see what happened next however.
A group of Marines and uniformed Security women were approaching the truck, and ordering the driver to move on. Suddenly, the side of the trucks cargo area swelled, and then burst. After that, the scene was lost in a blinding white light and grey smoke.
At the same time, the room around her shook and the lights went out. The emergency illumination came on line a second later, and Sarah was already on her way out of the cubicle. Maya was right behind her.
The COMINT center was now in chaos, and department heads were frantically scrambling to address the situation. As they moved towards the main displays, a woman from Security rushed up and saluted Sarah.
“Ma’am,” the Troop Leader said. “We believe the Embassy has just been attacked. It looks like it was a truck bomb. We’ve requested aid from Claire d’Layne.”
“Damage and casualties?” Sarah asked quietly. Her skin had gone deathly pale, and her hands were tightly clenched. In this state, Maya knew, she was death incarnate.
“Only initial figures ma’am,” the security woman answered, inclining her head towards one of the central displays. This showed a 3-D model of the Embassy building. The west wing was tinted a vivid red, and gold lights were flashing throughout the structure. These were fire alarms and sensors.
Momentarily, the Embassy Security Commander joined them, and took over for the trooper.
“We have four dead confirmed from the detail that went out to that truck,” she told them, and another ten who were working on that side of the building.” This information had come when their psiever signals had cut out, Maya realized grimly.
“We’re also getting some other alarm signals,” the woman continued. “But they’re hard to track, probably from interference coming from the rubble.”
While she said this, a security camera from one of the neighboring buildings came online and showed the extent of the devastation. The west wing no longer existed. Dark grey smoke was pouring out of the hole where it had once been, and from several other locations elsewhere in the structure.
They had been hit, and hard. The only thing that had saved everyone in the COMINT center had been the fact that it was heavily armored, and deep belowground. Despite herself, Maya had to fight to keep from trembling.
“What is the status of our remaining security forces?” Sarah inquired.
“On alert for a follow-up attack ma’am,” the Captain told her. Then she paused and closed her eyes, listening to something from her psiever.
“There was an RSE SRU Team working near us,” she said. “They are arriving now, and a platoon of hovertanks from the base should be on station over us in less than two minutes. Local Police are also en-route.”
“Good,” Sarah responded tightly. “Keep me informed. And as soon as it is practical to do so, I want whatever is left of that truck examined.”
She turned to Sa’Tela next.
“I think that this is more than just an attack on the Embassy,” she stated.” I think this might also be a diversion. Make certain that our people stationed around Celina are on their highest state of alert, but be mindful of my instructions regarding any courier.”
***
Ever since enlisting, Kaly had witnessed a lot of terrible things. What she saw below the orbiting assault shuttle surpassed a lot of it.
She had been to the Embassy on a few occasions, and what she was witnessing now tore those memories to shreds. The entire west wing was nothing more than a pile of rubble, with a few skeletal walls to remind anyone of the shape they had once described. There were fires and smoke everywhere.
Down below her, the first hovertanks were arriving, and a mixture of troopers, Republican police officers and firewomen from Claire d’Layne were already hard at work trying to control the scene and protect it against further assault.
The truck that had created all of this chaos was a twisted hulk of blackened metal. When the bomb inside of it had gone off, it had embedded the vehicle in the wall of the building next door from the sheer force of the blast.
There were also bodies, or in most cases, parts of bodies. The corpses were scattered all across the gruesome scene, and unfortunately, most of them were still intact enough to identify as people. One in particular, the upper half of a woman who was still wearing the blouse she had dressed herself in that morning, lay in the rubble strewn driveway. Her one remaining hand was clenched tightly and the index finger pointed accusingly at the truck as if her spirit wanted to make certain that everyone knew what had murdered her.
Through force of will, Kaly made herself look away and settled against the sally port, ranging around with Tatiana. There were still terrorists down there to worry about, and she did not want to dwell on on the dead woman, or how many other bodies were also down there, entombed under the rubble. As it was, she already had plenty of material for her nightmares, and didn’t need to add to her stock with even more.
***
Celina had spent the morning with Clio, working on their material. As she was wrestling with a particularly difficult clip, one of the securitywomen came in, and gently reminded her of her lunch with the Sisterhood Ambassador.
“Jantildam, you should start getting ready. It’s only an hour from now.”
Celina sat up from her keyboard abruptly.
“Yes, yes. Of course,” she replied, waving the woman away. “I just have a little more to do here.”
Clio intervened on the securitywoman’s behalf. “Celi, this is an important meeting. We should stop here and pick it up later. Now, don’t you think you should be getting dressed?”
Celina sighed, but relented. “Thank you dear. You’re right—as always. I’ll be a good little girl and put away my toys and go get myself ready.”
Her artificial companion laughed, and then addressed the securitywoman. “She’ll be along shortly. And I’ll make sure she doesn’t get distracted.” The woman bowed gratefully, and left them.
Celina had actually managed to finish dressing, and was attending to her make-up when she heard a loud report, and then felt the room shake slightly. She looked up as tiny bits of dust rained down from the ceiling.
“Clio? What was that?”
“I don’t know, Celi. I’m checking.” Then a second later, “There seems to have been some kind of attack…“
The securitywoman reentered the suite and Celina turned to face her. “I’m almost done,” she told her, referring to the time on her psiever. “Did something just happen?”
“Jantildam,” the woman said. “I’m afraid that your lunch has to be cancelled. There’s been a bombing at the Embassy.”
“A bombing?!” Celina asked incredulously. Once again the slogan she had seen came back, but with a much deeper, and far more frightening emphasis. They really do hate us, she realized.
“Yes, ma’am. The Ambassador and her staff are safe, but they have requested that we keep you here at the hotel.”
“Keep me?” Celina asked. “Am I some kind of prisoner then?” On top of being afraid, she was now becoming irritated. She didn’t like being told where she could and could not go.
The securitywoman’s response was polite, but unyielding. “No, jantildam. It’s simply for your own safety. Only until other arrangements can be made for you.”
“What other arrangements?” Celina demanded. “What’s going on? Who bombed the
Embassy?”
“I’m sorry ma’am,” the woman said. “That’s not for me to say. The Embassy will be sending someone along shortly to explain things to you. Right now, I need to ask you to stay here.”
Another member of her security detachment had joined her, and they were standing in the door, clearly barring her from making any attempt to exit.
“Okay,” Celina agreed. “I’ll wait for the Embassy people then. Can I at least order some lunch for myself? I’m hungry.”
“Certainly, ma’am,” the securitywoman replied. ”What would you like me to get for you?”
Celina sighed in exasperation, and then dictated her order. After that, all she could do was sit on the couch and wait. Outside in the distance, she could see smoke, and she knew that it was coming up from the area around the Embassy. In just a few minutes, it changed from an angry black to a lighter grey, and there seemed to be fewer sirens piercing the air.
Sick of the tension, she finally resorted to a pair of headphones, her portable keyboard, and Clio. They returned to where they had left off, and gradually, her frayed nerves were calmed.
She became so engrossed in her work that she barely noticed the hotel staffer arriving with her lunch. Once again, Clio came to everyone’s rescue and made Celina put aside her work to let the staffer serve her.
While the woman bent in close to ladle out some soup into her bowl, she whispered into Celina’s ear. “Jantildam, when you finish, read the note under the salad plate.”
Celina blinked in surprise, and then looked past her to the securitywoman standing at the doorway, but she seemed oblivious to the exchange. She was in the middle of a conversation with someone on the other end of her Com bud.
“Thank you,” Celina answered, trying to make her reply seem natural. “I’ll make sure to try it.”
Sisterhood of Suns: Daughters of Eve Page 23
