Ambassador 1_Seeing Red

by Patty Jansen

  You make everything so complicated, Thayu scoffed.

  But she joked. Ever since we had come back from the baths, Thayu and I had worked as a team.

  Evi and Telaris sat a few seats back, pretending to be travelling by themselves. The message from Renkati had not explicitly told me to come alone, but Thayu said that no one on the streets of Barresh had guards. I didn’t want to stand out.

  She had supplied me, herself and the two guards with a locating device that had a little light which flashed more frequently when the others were near. It also sent a signal back to the hub in the apartment in case any of us became lost. I wore the device under the sleeve of my shirt—a local khaki—provided by Eirani. She had been suspicious at my request for local garb. Delegates should be proud to wear gamra blue, she said, and why would I go to markets on a foul day like this? But her protest hadn’t been vehement. Judging by the look on her face, she knew something was up. Being in Renkati’s pay, she might even have arranged this meeting.

  The game continued.

  When the train slowed, the guards sprang to their feet and went to the far end of the carriage.

  I rose, too, as the island came closer. Thunder growled in the distance.

  The train stopped and the doors opened.

  I stepped onto the platform amongst a stream of fellow passengers, mostly domestic workers on shopping trips, carrying empty baskets and bags. They formed a steady stream to the far end of the platform, purposeful like worker bees.

  I let them pass, making sure that Thayu and the guards were still with me.

  A humid cloud of droplets drifted under the station’s roof. It had started raining again. Not much, but a drizzle that looked miserable and made people squint.

  Having been built recently, the train lines never crossed the islands directly, but skirted them. On one side of the station was the island, the ochre houses crowded together all crooked and squished like blocks of rubber. Oversized trees cluttered whatever narrow alleys snaked through the maze of walls.

  A metal walkway bridged the short distance between the station and the shore; from the walkway, a staircase went down to another walkway which backtracked under the rails to the deserted jetty, where I was to meet the contact.

  I went down these stairs, Thayu a step behind me. My footfalls on the metal steps echoed between the pylons encrusted with sea-growth, and the underside of the platform. Evi and Telaris lingered at the top of the steps, pretending to be talking, but their eyes took in everything, and I had no doubt they would have their guns out within a second, if necessary.

  But for now, there was no one down there.

  The rainy weather had reduced the landscape to shades of silver and grey. Cloth-covered boats lay on the far side of the jetty, tied up with sodden ropes; piles of fishing baskets tottered next to bollards.

  “Are you sure this is the right place?” I asked.

  Just then, there was movement on the jetty and a boy unfolded his legs, rising from under the oilcloth which sheltered him from the rain.

  “Delegate Cory Wilson?”

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  “Come.” The boy threw off the cloth and ran down the jetty, up the stairs.

  “Hey, wait!” I yelled, but he kept going. His thin legs disappeared up the stairs and out of sight. What the hell. . . ?

  I walked back to the stairs, where Evi and Telaris were peering down at us through the metal steps and framework.

  “Did the boy just come up?” I yelled at them.

  “He did. Ran past and vanished,” Telaris replied.

  “Can you still see him?”

  “No. Mashara is not happy about this, Delegate.”

  In honesty, I couldn’t say I liked this any better than they did, but I hated to think I had come for nothing.

  While I climbed the stairs, looking at Thayu’s heels, I heard the inevitable voice of my conscience, which always sounded like my father. Proper business stays above the table, son. Don’t fall for the tricks of a con merchant.

  Thayu broke in. Someone in that brain of yours has sense.

  Thayu, I need to know what this man is about.

  You’ve promoted yourself to an investigating authority? There was a hint of playful sarcasm.

  I can’t see anyone else doing it. Certainly no one else is being shadowed by these people.

  You’re crazy.

  That’s been said before. Many times, most often by Eva’s father.

  I reached the top of the stairs, Thayu behind me.

  “What now?” she asked.

  “Why don’t we try to find that boy and walk around for a bit? I told the staff we’d be going to the markets, so we might as well. Just follow close behind and keep an eye out, mashara.”

  The train had long since left the station, and all passengers had vanished into the miserable wet day. A lone guard paced the platform and a woman sat on a bench, surrounded by a ring of baskets. A homeless peddler, I guessed. The city hosted plenty of them.

  In spite of the rain, the markets burst with colour. Bright yellow, pink, orange, one canopy was brighter than the next. Underneath, vendors slaved over vats of steaming water, lowering cooking pots and pulling them back out. The smell of sulphur was everywhere. One could not make a fire in Barresh, courtesy of the megon nut trees, which grew along waterlines. The oil exuded by the tree’s flowers was the most powerful fire retardant known in the universe. In Barresh, it coated every surface. As a result, the local cuisine didn’t include anything that required a fire to cook. Eirani’s bread was boiled in the water of hot springs that was piped into the kitchen.

  In that light, the Coldi woman selling deep-fried food from a pan of bubbling oil had to be a novelty, and a popular one at that. Everywhere in the crowd people walked around nibbling golden, curly things from bags she sold. The smells that rose from the pan were heavenly. Memories flowed. Spicy hot Asian food, fish and chips on the beach, meals I’d shared with people I loved, none of whom were here. My parents, Inaru, Nicha—

  “You must try this,” Thayu said.

  Before I knew it, she had taken a bag from the stallholder and pushed it into my hands. Steam curled up from it, spreading a delicious smell.

  I stood there, feeling like an idiot. Now what? Coldi presented each other food as courtship rituals.

  Just try it. I’m not trying to buy you. Thayu’s eyes met mine.

  Heat rising to my cheeks, I picked up one of the deep-fried curls and put it into my mouth. Tangy, hot, crispy, the piece was gone within a second.

  I took a bigger piece.

  She fished a curl from the bag. “Is it good?”

  I nodded, my mouth full. “What are they?”

  She picked up another piece with a yellow-skinned index finger and middle finger, as Coldi often did.

  “I’ll tell you later.”

  Ah—right. Coldi didn’t eat the meat from invertebrate animals, so they were probably some kind of slug or worm.

  “Have another one?” She dangled it before my mouth.

  You weren’t trying to buy me, remember?

  The skin around her eyes crinkled as if she wanted to say What if I was? Through the feeder, I sensed a warm feeling, of a type I didn’t recognise from Nicha. And yet, I knew what it was, and I pushed it as far back as I could.

  I couldn’t . . .

  I wouldn’t . . .

  Eva . . .

  I turned away, holding out the bag to the guards. “Mashara, you should try some.” I had to clear my throat. My heart hammered in my chest.

  Both Indrahui refused. I had never seen either man eat anything. I didn’t even know where they ate or slept, or where they bathed. I didn’t know if they had families, or if they were brothers or lovers, or if they had lovers, far away from here.

  “Please, mashara, treat this as a day out as well.”

  “When we’re with the Delegate, mashara is on duty.”

  Very proper.

  We had started walking again, pa
st clothing stalls, barbers, fabric sellers, jewellery makers, stalls with furniture, fortunetellers. The rain pattered on the canvas roofs, but no one took any notice. People talked, argued, shared drinks, tried to convince others of their political views. Every now and then, we passed little islands of high-tech, where some vendor sold gadgetry, but for the most part, the markets were about locally-produced food and clothing, about services and about meeting each other.

  I looked at necklaces, trying them on Thayu’s soft-skinned neck, imagining how they would look on Eva—and failing. I hadn’t been away long, but I already had trouble visualising what Eva looked like, how her voice sounded and what she liked wearing. Velvet Victorian-style dresses with deep necklines. Perfect for a pretty pendant.

  Instead, I asked Evi and Telaris for their opinions on necklaces—they had seen Eva after all—but they remained stiff-faced about the subject of my impending marriage. All right, I knew they didn’t agree with my choice.

  I also looked out in case I saw something that would solve my shaving conundrum. I tried fish knives, fruit knives, scalpels, cutting myself a few times, but no one had razors, and the redness on my cheeks was starting to develop into a rash.

  By the time the light faded into a darker grey, I decided it was time to head back. I had bought a necklace, established that no one in the city needed to shave so there was no equipment for doing so, and now merchants were packing up for the day.

  And then there was that boy again, sitting on a wall on the corner of an alley. A skinny thing of maybe ten, all arms and legs and a head full of curly, honey-coloured hair. His eyes were blue. Unlike that of the locals, his skin was deathly pale. I didn’t need to see the long fingers and wide shoulders.

  He was Aghyrian.

  “Delegate Cory Wilson?” he said, in a clear voice.

  “What is this game? We are here to see Mr Renkati.” I figured the boy had already seen us together, and it was pointless to pretend I’d come alone. “Who are you?”

  The boy shook his head. “Amoro Renkati?”

  “Yes, that’s who we’re here to see. Are you taking us to him?”

  He stepped back and beckoned.

  Thayu and the two guards moved closer behind me.

  “Tell him to get his master to meet us here, Delegate,” Telaris said, his voice low.

  “I don’t think he speaks Coldi.”

  Telaris pushed to the front and spoke in various languages, neither of which changed the blank look on the boy’s face. When Thayu offered him her translator, he bolted into an alley between two houses. He stopped at the end.

  Evi and Telaris exchanged looks.

  “Mashara advises the Delegate to wait here or go back,” Telaris said. “If this man wants to talk to the Delegate, he will have to come to the gamra island.”

  Sensible, so sensible. I understood their position, totally.

  Except it wouldn’t solve anything. Renkati wouldn’t come, because otherwise he already would have.

  The boy, apparently still waiting, climbed on top of a garden all and sat there, his legs dangling.

  I gestured the guards and Thayu closer.

  “Mashara, I’m afraid I don’t see a choice but to follow him. I want to know what it is about; I need to know. These people are somehow tied up with the information Ezhya Palayi wants. So I am going to follow him. Stay close behind me. Thayu, if you could walk in front of me. I’m sorry, but I . . .” As a diplomat, I made a point of not carrying arms.

  Thayu nodded. She dug in a pocket strapped to her leg. I couldn’t see what she took out, but her hand, radiating warmth, slipped something in the pocket of my jacket. I stuck my hand in and half-withdrew a disk-shaped object. A small screen at the front of the disk gave the time in four different notations.

  I gather this is not a normal timer?

  Press the screen, hard. It fires, once only. Use it well, only in emergency.

  Thank you. Hating guns was only noble until you faced armed opposition.

  “If, for some reason we become separated, or the feeder won’t work, use the tracker.” She pressed a button on her listening device, and then did the same for me. A light flashed. “This connects to my comm unit. Press it if there is trouble. No need to speak.”

  I nodded, silently. Noticed how the skin of her fingers had gone white.

  “Aren’t you feeling the cold?”

  She shrugged, and looked away. Damn it. She was cold, I could feel it. I’d tell Eirani to make her some hot soup when we came back, and I would have a stern word with the kitchen to provide her with red-coded food. Poisons, as Eirani loved to call them. Thayu’s body needed them to stay healthy.

  We entered the alley, between the back gates of yards and gnarled trunks of huge trees, the foliage of which was thick and lush and drippy. The boy jumped off the wall and ran forward. At the end of the alley, we came to an oasis of leafy trees, cordoned off by high walls marking the yards of surrounding houses. Steam rose lazily from a pool in the centre; raindrops made little ring patterns on the surface. Gnarled trees grew on the sides, roots bulging over stone.

  The boy waited on the other side in the semidarkness, in the company of a broader figure, a keihu local, a thickset character with meaty arms and a groove down the middle of his nose. He wore a calf-length garment that was wide like a kaftan.

  “Are you Delegate Cory Wilson?” Heavily accented.

  “Yes. Who are you? Do you represent Renkati?” I didn’t bother with formal pronouns; they would be wasted on locals anyway.

  “We’ve been asked to meet you.”

  “Why all this secrecy?”

  “We will explain. The situation is delicate. Your support is appreciated.”

  Shit and shit. This excursion had been my idea, and there was no going back, not if I wanted to know what Renkati was about. But I really, really didn’t like this sneaking in alleys. And so far I hadn’t agreed to any kind of support.

  Thayu’s eyes met mine. Be alert.

  I could only feel guilt. I had brought her here, and trouble might follow.

  She was wise enough not to offer her opinion on the matter.

  I followed the man into another alley. He was shorter than me, about Thayu’s height, but three times as wide in the waist.

  No one spoke. Thayu walked with the agility of a panther ready to spring. Evi’s and Telaris’ green eyes took in every detail of the surrounding buildings. Their hands never strayed below their waists, ready to grab the guns from their arm brackets at the slightest provocation.

  Our guide plodded through a maze of back alleys, up and down quaint stone steps, under overhanging flowering bushes that dripped water on us. I tried to remember the way, but the usual landmarks for orientation—the suns and the golden rock wall of the escarpment—hid behind clouds. It was also getting dark. For a while I thought that the guide was deliberately confusing us by using only back alleys, but we never passed any wider streets. Houses, low and built from ochre stone, crowded together in a way that convinced me there was no main street. In Barresh, boats and trains between islands were the main traffic. And little trolleys on rails. There were plenty of those.

  Rain fell heavier. Thayu gave a single shiver. For a few seconds, her eyes lost that lion-like alertness.

  You’re freezing.

  She didn’t reply to that.

  I was just about to ask our guide if we were going to get some place soon when we reached an alley that ran past a continuous wall, a fortress of stone and mortar. I glanced up into the drizzle, and sensed Thayu doing the same.

  The building takes up an entire block.

  I didn’t know how she got this information so quickly, but I didn’t question it.

  Our guide led us to the only door in that solid wall, a thick wooden affair that opened noiselessly, although it looked like the type of door that would have creaked. Must be the wet.

  We entered the courtyard beyond, facing a featureless stone building. Black, soot-like moss covered the paving e
xcept for a well-worn path that led directly to an arched entrance.

  Our guide turned right into a room where light pearls cast their greenish glow over stone walls. A desk stood in the middle of the room, and cupboards lined the walls. Through the glass in the doors, the light reflected from the silky surfaces of more types of gun than I knew existed.

  “This is where we leave weapons.” The guide said.

  A local woman bustled in through a door. She eyed the guards, then Thayu, and shook her head. “Definitely not allowed inside.”

  Thayu?

  A harsh squeak. Garbled sound.

  Thayu?

  She squinted. I didn’t know if she heard the same noise, but the feeder’s signal was very weak.

  . . . interference. Don’t know what’s causing it.

  She’s not going to allow you in. What should we do?

  Leave it to me.

  I looked over my shoulder, where Evi and Telaris stood rigid. One did not ask Indrahui guards to leave their weapons behind. I suspected these men took their weapons to bed, if ever they slept.

  The guide said, “No one goes armed inside this building. We’re a peaceful community. If it worries you, you can stay here. We will take the Delegate to a room next to this one.”

  Evi and Telaris glanced at each other. They probably didn’t like it.

  “Mashara, I’m going to a meeting,” I said. My eyes met Evi’s. He knew just as well as I did that this was no ordinary meeting, but damn it, I did not want to bail out now.

  “I’ll come.” Taking a breath through flaring nostrils, Thayu unstrapped the gun from her arm and flung it into Evi’s hands. A show—I knew. She would have other weapons. Or so I hoped. Evi still scowled.

  Thayu flicked me a warning glance. . . . listening in . . . careful . . .

  What?

  The high-pitched noise whined in my brain.

  She shook her head, probably trying to tell me not to use the feeder.

  I raked my hand through my hair and pulled the feeder’s legs to lift it ever so slightly from my skin. The noise stopped. But the feeder wouldn’t stay detached like this, programmed as it was to connect with the patch in my brain. Already, the legs moved to reattach itself. I resisted an urge to scratch the spot. When it sent a warm burst through my head, I blocked it.