reporters?'
Assurances were given by Kuros and Horst, along
with strained smiles, then farewells and the confronta-
tion was over. Theo joined the others in an impromptu
round of applause to which Sundstrom gave a sardonic
smile and bow of the head.
'That Horst,' Theo said. 'The man's a hand-
puppet ...'
Aye, he just caved at the end, there,' Donny said. 'I
thought he had more spine than that.'
'Well, we've no way of knowing what advice he was
getting from his AI implant,' said Pyatkov. 'Or how
much control it has over him.'
'Then there's no point in speculating,' Sundstrom
said. 'In any case, this is a temporary reprieve until
Kuros decides on his next move. Pyatkov, Barbour -
could you wait downstairs in the conference room? I
just need to have a private word with the Major.'
The two men nodded, rose and left. Theo returned
his empty glass to the ornamental table and went to sit
on the edge of Sundstrom's desk, silent, waiting.
'The assets, Theo,' the president said at last. 'You've
got to move them again.'
'Again?' His heart sank. 'Why? And where to this
time?'
Away from the towns and settlements. The Uvovo
know of many a hiding place in the East Hills - I'll put
you in touch with one of the Listeners. And why? -
well. . . time is against us, Theo, even though my steam-
roller-ambush ploy bought us a little more.'
'What happens when time runs out?'
'Occupation, maybe internment for the hard cases,
with some kind of justification proclaimed loudly along
with declarations of their generous and enlightened
intentions towards us. I've seen several reports docu-
menting the Hegemony's "generosity", worlds where
every city is reduced to rubble, or where the ecosphere
has been deliberately poisoned, or where tailored micro-
organisms were released to expunge a staple crop or a
vital food animal. Which is what would have been in
store for us had we not been a colonial offshoot from
their principal ally.' His eyes were full of a ferocious
resolve. 'There has to be resistance, Theo, a guerrilla
struggle against the Hegemony that will deny them the
right to be here.'
'Surely public opinion back on Earth wouldn't stand
for Hegemony occupation?'
Sundstrom smiled. 'Public opinion depends on public
perception, and across Earthsphere, especially amongst
Human sectors, that perception is shaped by a news
media consensus led by ...' He raised a hand towards
Theo, expecting him to finish the sentence.
'Starstream,' Theo said sourly. 'What have they been
saying about us?'
'That we're a bunch of ignorant, hairy-arsed throw-
backs. Oh, there have been any number of pretty
documentaries about Darien's flora and fauna, but oth-
erwise the general slant is that we're a parochial,
clannish rabble.'
Theo remembered hearing about his nephew Greg's
run-in with one offworld reporter. 'Is Lee Shan with
Starstream?' "
The president chuckled. 'He's a piece of work, that
one - I saw one of his reports on Darien politics that
went out on a culture and politics channel which isn't
fed through to Darien, surprise, surprise. It was cleverly
done, subtle and nuanced, managing to be both accurate
and completely misleading.'
'You mentioned seeing reports on the Hegemony and
now this one by Lee Shan.' Theo paused. 'Have these
come from the Imisil, Mr President? If so, can they be
trusted?'
'More than that, Theo, we had one of the OG's
newest surveillance terminals, modelled on one from the
Hyperion, patched into a data nexus on board the Imisil
ship in orbit. We were able to access the tiernet itself, that
vast interstellar network; my God, Theo, there are
oceans upon oceans of information out there, the knowl-
edge and culture of thousands of worlds, and that is how
I came to find out the foul history of the Sendrukan
Hegemony. And can they be trusted? - I have no doubt
that they have an agenda, but equally I am sure that our
interests and theirs coincide.'
'Good, so we can expect a shipment of advanced
weapons very soon, yes?'
Sundstrom gave a half-smile. 'Soon, perhaps. That
Brolturan ship has seeded Darien's orbital shell with
probes and detects that track everything in the planet's
vicinity out to beyond Nivyesta's orbit. If something
happens to disrupt and divert attention, the Imisil
ambassador will seize the opportunity.' He thumbed
keys on his desk and the wall screens behind him went
dead. 'Now, time you went about your business and I
tended to mine.'
'Donny Barbour and Mr Pyatkov?' Theo said. 'Why
the separate meeting for them?'
'Actually all three of you are to be briefed separately
and privately by me,' Sundstrom said. 'Thus the capture
of one cannot jeopardise the others.'
A practical approach, Mr President, if a bit pes-
simistic,' Theo said. 'What if they capture you?'
Sundstrom laughed. 'Trust me, no one is going to
capture me alive.'
The two men shook hands.
'Now go,' Sundstrom said. 'Good luck and good
hunting.'
'You too, sir.'
And as he left the study, Theo was struck by a fore-
boding that this would the last time he would see the
man alive.
38
ROBERT
After the conference call with Sundstrom and Kuros, he
sat there at his desk, feeling an odd exhaustion of the
mind. His thoughts were like worms slowly pushing
themselves through a dark, muddy cave, taking an inor-
dinate amount of time to reach the other side.
'Robert, how do you feel?'
How did he feel? He blinked, breathed in deep and
turned to see Harry in a patterned grey lounge suit,
seated at the end of the desk with concern in his fea-
tures.
'You look tired, Robert,' he said. 'It's my fault, I
pushed you too hard on the deployment matter . . .'
'Harry, Harry ... you were only doing your job while
I was just, well ... wrong-footed by Kuros. Just wasn't
expecting it. And Sundstrom - I was so furious at that
gambit of his, and yet I can admire the way he played it,
played us.'
'Politics is politics, whether it's on a backwater planet
or at the Great Assembly on Earth.'
Robert nodded and sighed, gazing out of the first-
floor window. The road was quiet, deserted, lit by a
teardrop-shaped lightpod hanging from a question-mark
lamp-post, ancl as he watched it began to rain, bright
flecks falling within the radiant halo, dark spots speck-
ling the ground.
'So what will you do about the marines?' asked
Harry.
'Order Captain Velazquez to deploy them down
here,' Robert said, turning to beckon
Rosa over. 'After a
quick game of chess.' From a desk drawer he took a
folding board and a box of pieces. 'Black or white, my
dear?'
'I'll play .. . black,' Rosa said, and as she sat on an
opaque high stool, sixteen translucent black pieces
appeared on her side of the board while he patiently set
out the white side. This was a joy, he thought, playing a
relaxing game of chess with his daughter after a hard
day's work. But look at the lateness of the hour! - he
would have to see her safely tucked up in bed once this
game was over and not a moment later.
Robert played first, then move followed move, white
pieces and dark, opaque grey pieces staking out terri-
tory, threatening assaults, shoring up defences.
'Robert, Lieutenant Heng is still in the building,'
Harry said. 'I'm sure he would know the state of readi-
ness of the Heracles's marine complement. Might be
prudent to know this.'
'Hmm, you think so?' He pondered a clash of pawns
on the board before him. 'Very well, have him come
up.'
It seemed only a moment or two before there was a
knock at the door. He called out and a young man in
an Earthsphere olive-and-brown uniform entered,
approached and gave a stiffly formal bow.
'Mr Ambassador,' he said.
'Ah, Lieutenant - my daughter, Rosa.'
A moment's hesitation, then the officer bowed again.
'Miss Horst.'
'A pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant,' Rosa said.
Horst nodded. 'It is very good of you to answer my
summons at this hour. I shall shortly be issuing a request
to Captain Velazquez for a company of marines to be
redeployed down here, but in advance I should like to
know what their state of readiness is.'
'I understand, sir. The Heracles carries two full
marine companies, complete with lowalt fliers, ATVs
and med-mobiles. Either or both companies can be
scrambled and ready for deployment in under an hour,
and a full company can be translocated to the planet's
surface in about six hours, if all three shuttles are avail
able.'
'Excellent, Lieutenant, and how would you describe
morale at the moment?'
'Very good, sir. Everyone's keen to do whatever they
can for the Darien colony'
'Of course, which is only natural and which we are
already achieving!' Rosa moved a bishop across the
board and placed it on a square occupied by one o'
Robert's knights, then poked her tongue out at him. He
smiled and removed the knight. 'So, Lieutenant, when
do you return to your ship?'
'The cutter is supposed to leave Port Gagarin at I
a.m., sir, but we have been advised to be there by 7.30 at
the latest so I thought it advisable to start out as soon as
possible.'
'Then I shall detain you no longer, Lieutenant. Be on
your way, and pass on my warmest regards to your cap-
tain.'
'I shall, sir.' He bowed to Robert and again to Rosa,
who smiled sunnily.
As the young officer left, Robert returned to the game
and after a moment's scrutiny saw that he was a few
moves away from a complete defeat.
Another game, Daddy?' said Rosa.
'Young lady, if your mother were here she would be
outraged to see you still up at this hour . . . well, perhaps
one more . . .'
'Robert, you were going to issue that order to
Captain Velazquez,' said Harry, who was standing at
the other window. He was smiling in that narrow-eyed,
head-tilted manner that signalled disapproval.
'Oh, but I'm busy with Rosa, Harry - would you
patch into my messenger and send a note for me? You
know the basic details.'
Harry was still and silent for a second, then he said:
'That's it done, Robert. Do you want to retire to bed
now? Since you decided not to cancel tomorrow's
engagements, I would recommend catching up on some
sleep.'
Robert frowned as he rearranged the pieces. Why
was Harry being such a nuisance? Couldn't he under-
stand that a father had obligations to his daughter?
'Really, Harry, I've just agreed to play another game.
I'm sure that I'll be able to meet the day's . . . the
day's . . .' He paused, feeling a little dizzy and seized by
an irresistible need to yawn. The room dimmed and
seemed to grow pale as if a grey veil fell upon every-
thing.
Were those his hands that were carefully putting
away the chess board and pieces? Was that his voice
that said 'Goodnight' to Rosa and his fingers that
switched off the intersim? His legs that carried him
upstairs to change into his sleep wear, his bed into which
he slipped? Grey hands, grey veil, grey voice, just like
that moment during the conference call when his mind
seemed to stumble but something in him carried on.
Grey voice, grey hands, grey veil, his mind like a grey
cave across which he crawled, sinking at last into grey
sleep.
39
CATRIONA
Morning sunshine speared down through Segrana's
upper canopy as Catriona guided her trictra along the
branchways, heading back to that deserted village, back
to the vodrun. The cold air was laced with damp odours
of leaf and flower stirred and swirled by the heat of the
sun. Rising wafts of warm air carried insects higher to
unfurled, nectar-beaded blooms, new luscious leaves,
overnight fungi and tiny water pools held in the crooks
of tree limbs. Seeing this, Catriona knew that every
insect had its predator, whether it was a bigger insect or
a bird or some small, furry pseudo-mammal. Or even a
plant, luring with sweet smells and bright colours, trap-
ping the quarry with snapping leafy jaws or sticky,
smothering leaves or steep-sided drowning sacs. There
was even a tree which enticed insects into a crack in its
bark which closed convulsively when an intruder tickled
certain fibres within.
And as Catriona travelled, always her thoughts cir-
cled back to last night's strange dream in the vodrun, to
the warning about invaders gliding through Segrana's
shadows. Predators stalking prey ...
After that unsettling and curtailed vigil, she had
returned to the Human enclave and a restless night of
shallow, inconstant sleep. Rising early, she had tried to
focus on her backlog of research work, sorting and cat-
aloguing samples, but her mind wandered back to that
dream, her childhood at Zhilinsky House, Julia . . .
Yes . . . Julia. Then she had taken out her coram,
pondering the fact that there were people she could
contact and favours she could call in. In the event, how-
ever, the reliable details she gathered provided only a
sketchy picture. For about a year the government's
Special Designs Division had been maintaining a
research post at Pelagios Base, the old oceanography
platform ten miles up the east coast. Then several weeks
ago a dozen or more additional personnel had arrived
but were taken off Pilipoint in a large launch which
headed for Pelagios Base. There was never any mention
of Pelagios and its staff in any public announcement or
memo or directive from Pilipoint's administrators, but
the community's rumour-mongers took it for granted
that the new people had been Enhanced. Another hand-
ful had arrived in the week following, of whom
Yurevich was the most recent, all of them with that
aura of lofty intellect. And then last night, while she
was getting ready for her vigil, some eighteen to twenty
of them had left on a special shuttle flight back to
Darien, including Julia Bryce - a friend on the embarka-
tion staff had noticed the name on a passenger manifest
before it was removed.
Beyond that, there was little of substance. Nothing on
Enhanced identities, and not a clue as to the nature of
the research taking place at Pelagios. And certainly no
explanation for the evacuation, although it wasn't
impossible that the Brolturan ambassador's murder had
played a part.
It was a setback, this near-perfect information black-
out, but not that much of a surprise. The Enhanced and
their minders were secrecy obsessives and habitually
paid great attention to details, ensuring the integrity of
that blackout. Catriona realised that it would take more
digging to find out anything useful, more time than she
had today.
Instead, she had made a few more calls to fellow
researchers in other enclaves dotted around the conti-
nent-spanning forest of Segrana. She was looking for
any reports of odd happenings or sightings and found
herself being offered innumerable reports on the curi-
ous and often inexplicably purposeful behaviour of the
forest's flora and fauna. But when she made it clear
that she was after more mysterious, unattributable inci-
dents documented in the last couple of days, she was
left with a handful of accounts: a set of bipedal prints
leading up the sandy beach of Emmerson Bay on the
north coast; four perfectly circular holes drilled into
the 200-foot-wide bole of one of the five pillar trees
that made up the outer northeast buttress cluster; the
cut-up carcasses of five crab-analog ogmi found beside
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