by Patty Jansen
I guess that time was now.
Margarethe held up her hands. “Don’t even say the words, ‘You should have joined thirty years ago.’ ”
Thirty years ago, when knowledge of gamra had first become public, when a much younger Ezhya Palayi had visited Earth in an official capacity—and had never done so since—when people were optimistic about the future relationship but had somehow not wanted to pull that trigger, because of some conservatives with particularly loud voices. Maybe they’d been genuine in their objections, or maybe, as I thought now, they had always seen it in their own interest not to join so that they could continue not to declare their interests in income made from other worlds. Because business could not possibly be put under any kind of restriction, right?
We both knew. It should have been done thirty years ago.
“Is there a realistic chance that it will pass?”
She sighed. “We have to try, Cory. That’s all we can do.”
* * *
By the time we came back to the hotel, it was very late.
The others had ridden with Margarethe’s guards, no doubt exchanging whatever information security personnel exchanged while I spoke to their boss.
All the lights in the hotel were off, including the one in our room.
A pang of sadness and longing stirred inside me. It didn’t feel right, doing so much without Thayu. I guessed I had better get used to this. She would not join me so often once the child was born either. Life was going to be different, and I had grown used to having her by my side.
The door into the foyer was shut, but the receptionist, seated in a pool of light in the dark foyer, opened it at my approach.
The young man on duty gave me and my heavily-armed party a strange look.
“These are the people we were still missing from our party,” I informed him. “The rooms should already be allocated.”
He produced entry codes, and everyone filed upstairs as they received them. Tired, glad of the prospect of a good night’s rest.
Evi came out of the room at the top of the stairs when we came up and we all wordlessly filed into what had become the security station. They had pushed the bed aside, dragged the table into the middle, and covered it with equipment. There was also equipment on the bed.
The room’s chairs—a couch, a lounge chair and three dining chairs—had been supplemented with some chairs from another room, and a table full of food containers and empty cups. I was sure that either the hotel staff were not allowed to come in here, or that they were, like me, astonished that so few people could produce so much stuff, including food debris.
We all sat down on the mismatched chairs. Thayu was there as well. Her hair was messed up as if she had been asleep. Damn, I felt sorry for dragging her here. She was too proud to admit that she wasn’t up to it.
I said, “I’m not staying long. I’m tired.” Because she would never admit this, I did it on her behalf.
Reya said, “Then let’s get started. Lenka Trnkova has let us know that Abri is wanted again tomorrow. Apparently the confusion about support staff has been cleared and the witness account can now proceed.”
“Are you satisfied that all our conditions have been met?”
“Yes. We got four additional passes.”
That was good. That meant we could bring one of Amarru’s lawyers and all the Pengali in, as long as we could keep Idda under someone’s clothes. She had been behaving well recently, but I might just see if I could procure some sleep tablets.
Abri would be in the witness box with Jemiro.
I would go in the audience, and I wanted Thayu with me, but she said it would be much better for me to take Veyada. Which was true, and I hated how Thayu and I had spent so much time separated on this trip.
The three Pengali needed to come. Ynggi had said that he wasn’t essential, but since I didn’t trust Jemiro’s translation, I wanted him there. My Pengali was nowhere near adequate to understand the nuances.
“Then maybe you should take Devlin so that he can record the proceedings,” Telaris said.
Devlin shook his head. “I can easily teach Ynggi to do it, so that I don’t occupy a spot that’s better taken by one of the lawyers.”
That was true, and, knowing the disagreements between Veyada and Mereeni, I, Devlin and Evi said at the same time, “Reya.”
And Veyada said, “Mereeni.”
And the others in my association said nothing. Nicha looked at me and started laughing. “Mereeni. Take it from me.”
While we had been discussing who we would take, Thayu was listening to the recording I made of my meeting with Margarethe. I thought I could tell when Margarethe said she was going to push for gamra membership. Thayu’s mouth fell open and her eyes widened. That pretty much described my reaction. Why did Margarethe think it was a good idea?
I guessed the answer to that was: it might not be a good time, but the next ten years or more might be impossible to try. And ten years down the track, who knew how much damage these companies would do to the fragile situation of relative peace between the major regions on Earth? Or how much damage to the reputation of Nations of Earth with gamra as an organisation in control of their citizens? Or, heaven forbid, how much damage to the peace between Asto and Nations of Earth. Because Asto was watching in the depths of space. They were always watching. Maybe even Kando Luczon and his band of entitled Aghyrians in their giant ship were watching. Maybe they were even behind the brashness of the Pretoria Cartel.
And now you’re letting your imagination run away with your senses, Mr Wilson.
I needed some sleep. Tomorrow would be a big and important day.
I rose. “I think we should all go to bed and get a good rest. If we’ll be finished here tomorrow, make arrangements to return to the Exchange. I plan to take my party to my father’s place for a break, but everyone else can return home.”
Evi looked up. “It will be arranged. We will book flights tomorrow.”
“Good.”
“Who do we take?”
“Just our association and staff. There is no need to take anyone else. The lawyers, the guards, the Pengali, the interpreter: they can go back to Amarru.” And in Jemiro’s case, home. The sooner we got rid of him, the better.
Thayu and I went back to our room, where I gave her a very cryptic description of my meeting with Margarethe, in case someone was listening.
She had no great knowledge about matters that concerned Nations of Earth, so she only remarked that it seemed risky to her. Coldi, of course, didn’t really understand the concept of elections either.
Then she smiled. “You really didn’t get the situation with Veyada, did you?”
“No. He’s spent most of this trip arguing with Mereeni and carrying on like he hates her guts, from the very moment they met. The only reason they haven’t had a fight is because she’s from Hedron and doesn’t have the instinct. Then I suggest keeping the two separated, and he, of all people, wants to let her come.”
“Do you remember when I first came to you, how much we argued? Do you remember that big bust-up we had after you visited Ezhya?”
I nodded. I remembered that well. It had been one of my more stupid moments, before I realised how the situation stuck together, and that I was fighting my own attraction to Thayu—wait.
“You’re not suggesting that Veyada . . .”
Her smile widened. “Everyone else seems to be in on the deal. We’re counting the time until he makes his move. I believe Nicha and Sheydu have already made a bet on it.”
Someone knocked on the door.
When I opened it, I found Devlin in the hallway.
“I wanted to tell you one more thing,” he said in that way he would speak when he was about to upset all our plans.
“Yes?”
“I managed to get a message through to the Pakiru family in Barresh. They were most upset and told me that their nephew Jemiro was killed in a street fight a month ago.”
Chapter 19
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* * *
SO JEMIRO—the real Jemiro—had died. Then who was this person we had with us?
I looked from Thayu to Nicha and Veyada. And then Devlin.
I asked the latter, “Did you ever know Jemiro? Is this the same person?”
Devlin shrugged. “No one ever had much to do with the family.”
“What should we do about him?” Nicha asked. “Interrogate him?”
I glanced in the direction of the stairs, the way to Jemiro’s room, thinking of how I found him in his room huddled on the floor after Kita had threatened him with a knife.
“Let’s wait until the trial is done. He may not be stable enough to continue as our translator if we put too much pressure on him tonight. I don’t want the trial to be cancelled because of something we did.”
They nodded, but I didn’t think they were entirely happy.
“I said we’d learn something from having him with us,” Veyada said. “I think we’re about to learn that lesson.”
That was one was of looking at it. But I definitely wanted this investigated when the trial was over, and I’d put pressure on him regardless of how he reacted.
We went to our room and got ready for bed.
I was tired, but did not sleep well. As usual, when there was trouble or I had something big coming up, strange dreams plagued my sleep, in which we were chased through the corridors of the court building by a group of black-clad guards banging the irrka drum in the most unrhythmic fashion.
I woke with a shock, to find that Thayu was up, rummaging in her pack. It was early enough in the morning for the light to be pale blue.
I asked, “What are you looking for?”
“The infusor capsules.”
“But you’re not supposed to . . .” I sat up.
“I know, but I can’t live with this anymore. I’m frozen to the bone. I can’t think, I can’t move. This can’t be good for me or the child. I’ll take just half and see if that helps.”
“Do you want to see a medico?”
“Maybe when we’re back at the Exchange.”
I processed that for a moment. Here was Thayu admitting defeat. “You’re really not feeling well, aren’t you.”
She didn’t meet my eyes, pressed her lips together and shook her head.
“Was it like this . . . last time?”
In general, we avoided talking about her son, because after his father had been killed in the attempted coup at Asto, we had no idea what had become of the boy. It was on my endless “should do this one day” list, even if Thayu never spoke about it.
“I didn’t have the requirement to keep my body temperature low.”
In other words: no. Damn, Thayu. Why hadn’t she said anything before?
She found the capsules and the band and disappeared into the bathroom carrying them and her clothes.
I lay back on the pillow, listening to sounds she made in there: the tap, the flushing of the toilet, the rustle of clothes as she put them on.
Down in the street, a rubbish truck came to empty the recycling bins with clangs and thuds and the rumble of plastic bottles tumbling into the truck’s compactor. A tram zoomed past, the wheels whining as the vehicle turned the corner. Those were sounds of my youth.
Thayu came back dressed in her security outfit.
“Feel any better?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Lets go to breakfast.”
At least she was hungry. That was a good sign, right?
While I got dressed, a door in the hallway opened and fell shut. A moment later, someone knocked on the door. “Muri?”
Devlin.
I got out of bed and opened the door.
Devlin indeed, already in his work clothes.
“What’s the matter?” The inside of my head felt fuzzy. How could he look so alert—wait. Had he even slept at all?
“A message came for you.”
I took the reader he held out to me. I thought it might be something from Barresh, but the message had been sent through reception downstairs.
It was very short and said, “Please confirm our deal.”
There was no name, but there was only one person who would contact me in this way: Minke Kluysters.
Deal?
I’d made no deal.
What sort of dirty trick was this?
If I replied, was he going to use it as proof that there was a deal?
Thayu came behind me and read over my shoulder. “Who is this person?”
I told her. “I don’t want to reply to this. He wants me to find loopholes by which he can have an office in Barresh. Well, I don’t actually want his office in Barresh. We should find ways to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Then you just tell him.”
“I have no intention of doing so. If I do, he can use my message to prove that I’ve agreed on a deal. I haven’t agreed on anything.”
Thayu gave me a wide-eyed look. “Really?”
“That’s the dirty trick he could be playing.” For Coldi, doing something like this would amount to a serious transgression against their loyalty.
A few people were coming down the stairs. Veyada and Sheydu, judging by the sound of voices.
I was right, and Mereeni was with them.
We soon followed them to the dining room, where most others were already filling their plates.
Fish had become a standard item on the menu, and my team had made a big hole in the pile of crumbed fillets and the Pengali were only just arriving. All of them were dressed in their official outfits with the blue stripes and pearl buttons. But what was with the anxious faces?
They came straight for me. Kita carried a blanket with a little tail dangling out, limp. Pengali tails were always moving. My heart jumped.
“Something wrong?”
Kita opened the blanket for me. Idda lay limp amongst the folds of fabric. Her eyes were half open and her gaze unfocused.
I met Ynggi’s eyes. “What happened?”
“She opened a door in our room and found some things inside. She drank some smelly water from a little bottle.”
Damn it. “Have you got the container?”
Ayshada sat in his chair next to Nicha. He stared, open-mouthed at Idda. He pointed. “Idda. Idda! Idda!” His face distorted with distress. His shrill voice cut through the gentle sounds in the dining room.
Everyone was looking in our direction.
Nicha lifted his son out of the chair, telling him to be quiet, but Nicha’s face also displayed deep worry.
Ynggi had taken a little bottle out of his pocket. The label said “Vodka”.
Well . . . I couldn’t help laughing. “That explains it.”
“Is it harmful?”
“No. She is drunk. She’ll sleep well and won’t annoy anyone. Just carry her under your jacket and make sure she drinks water when she wakes up. She’ll probably be very unhappy for a while. Have some breakfast.”
They still looked a bit unsure, but sat down anyway, rather subdued, still holding the limp bundle on his lap.
Ayshada looked on with wide eyes. “Wha. . . ? Idda?”
Nicha stroked his head. “Shh. Idda is fine. She’s asleep. Have some bread.”
“Fish!” Ayshada slammed his hand on the table.
Nicha gave me an it’s your fault look, but gave his son a piece of fish anyway.
Talk in the rest of the room resumed.
I went to get breakfast at the serving counter, and stopped at Eirani’s table on the way back.
Jemiro sat at the table with her and Karana.
“Any plans for today?” I asked Eirani. But I looked at Jemiro, who ignored everyone.
“We’re going to take Ayshada to a park. Apparently it’s a custom to give the children bread and let them feed the animals.”
“Ducks,” Karana said, using the Isla word. “They swim, and they fly, like ringgit.”
“They’re not like ringgit at all.” The closest animal that came to ringgit were probably
crickets, although those were a lot smaller. Ringgit were a type of crustacean, the size of an adult person’s hand, that could be a menace in the older and more boggy parts of Barresh. They tended to invade houses and had a particular affinity for the pantry. “Ayshada will like the ducks, though. Make sure you keep an eye on him.” For the safety of the ducks. I was afraid Idda had taught him some bad habits, including the desire to catch everything that moved.
“We are going to be spending most of the day in court. Devlin will stay here and can get a message to us if you need us. I really hope that we’re going to be finished today, and I need you to be ready and packed to return to the Exchange tomorrow morning. All of us here from our household will be visiting my father.” And when I noticed Jemiro watching me, I added, “I’ll be providing everyone else with travel codes so that they can go back to their homes.”
He nodded, nervously, and looked away.
Eirani glared at him, too. She might have said, “You can at least say ‘Thank you,’ ” but he wasn’t a child and I guessed she had said this a few times already.
Karana snorted. She was taking her cues from Eirani, and becoming more confident by the day.
In the awkward silence, I rose; and when I walked past the back of his chair, I hesitated. Part of me wanted to yell at him, “Isn’t it about time you told us who you really are?”
But I wasn’t sure that he knew, so I said only, “We leave soon. Be ready.” I’d make sure I’d question him in between when we finished here and when we delivered him back to the Exchange.
“I’m already . . . ready.”
I left the room via a detour past Thayu. She would spend much of the day in the security station, doing stuff for Amarru or Ezhya or whatever security people did.
I squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t work too hard.”
“I don’t think I can be accused of working hard.”
“No, and you shouldn’t.”
She pulled a face at me. She hadn’t done that for a while, not since she’d confirmed her pregnancy. Her cheeks were red and her eyes clear and it occurred to me just how sick she had looked over the past few days. Hopefully she would now feel better. Once we got to my father’s house, we’d laze on the beach and go for walks. I was really looking forward to it.
