Expatria: The Box Set (17 page)

Chapter 18

The decision had been a hard one, but Kasimir Sukui could come to no other. Despite Decker and Chet Alpha, despite Lucilla Ngota, he was still a rational man.

He had lived through six Primacies before Prime Salvo; he had served under three of them. He had seen these six Primacies crumble away under pressures internal and external. He knew the presages.

Salvo Andric's days were numbered.

Civil unrest was spreading from street corner to street corner. Acts of apparently undirected crime were becoming manifest. Cults and lobby groups were proliferating and becoming both vocal and active. The body politic of Alabama City was undergoing a convulsion.

And now Kasimir Sukui had decided that he should hedge his loyalties. He would never turn against the Prime, but this was certainly a time to cover all possibilities. Striding towards the Capitol, he veered away from his normal route up to the main gates. Instead, he stopped before the door of a building just across the Route Magnificat, a tall building with climbing vines and a fourth-floor balcony that overlooked the street. The placard by the door read 'Canebrake House'.

He disliked Siggy Axelmeyer intensely but, weighing all the odds, he had to see him. The Project must be preserved—that was his foremost objective and he knew that he must put all else aside.

Of all the rabble-rousers and orators and cult-leaders, Axelmeyer was the most charismatic, the most popular and, above all else, he had the best claim to the Primacy of anyone who might dare to oppose Salvo Andric. That was central to Sukui's reasoning but equally important was the fact that Axelmeyer had spent three and a half years as part of the Project. He had a scientific mind—even if his control was absent for the present—      and if the Primacy should fall then Axelmeyer was Sukui's best hope. Others would destroy the Project at a stroke, either through their inability to control the powers of the throne or through sheer vindictiveness. Sukui knew that he stood at least a moderate chance of guiding Axelmeyer back to some sort of balance.

Now that Decker had spoken with Chet Alpha, things had gone beyond Sukui's control. No longer could he hope to direct the dissemination of the knowledge that Decker had given him. It was out of his hands. All he could do was hope to guide some of the forces that had been released.

He knocked on the big front door and immediately a stub of a woman opened it. 'My name is Sukui-san,' he said, standing tall. 'I wish to converse with Mister Axelmeyer.' He pushed the door and stepped past the startled woman.

'Oh, can't do that, sir, he's practising, sir, and he don't like as to be disturbed when he's
practising
. Says as he's letting his soul speak with the cosmos and how it makes him feel at peace, sir, and he says as it makes his blood pulse too, sir, and I can vouch for that, sir. Maybe you should make an appointment, sir, he's very...'

Her words trailed away, under the force of Sukui's glare. 'I wish to see him,' he repeated.

She scuttled away, up a flight of stairs. and out of Sukui's sight.

A few moments later she reappeared on the landing. 'If you'd be following me, sir, he'll see you straightaway, sir.' She waited for him and then turned and led him up three more flights of stairs.

The sound of Axelmeyer's mouth-organ came floating through an open slatted door. 'He's in there, sir,' said the woman, unnecessarily, and then she hurried away.

Sukui stood in the doorway. The room was wide and airy, low sofas and cushions scattered about, half-opened bottles and items of food spread wherever there was space. Axelmeyer stood at the far side, playing his mouth-organ and staring out of the tall french windows. In that light he looked very much like his cousin. His hair was thick and fiery, his figure tall and muscular; all that was absent was the tangled red beard. After a few seconds he turned and then he stopped playing and threw his arms into the air. 'Kasimir!' he called. 'Come in, come in. She said it was you but I didn't believe her. What brings you? Has Salvo demoted you to errand-boy? Are you running his messages?'

Axelmeyer was the only Project member to have called Sukui by his forename; the others all knew their position. 'Prime Salvo does not know I am here,' said Sukui. 'I am merely satisfying my own curiosity. No more.'

'So? What is it?'

There was no diplomacy with Axelmeyer. He knew nothing of the ways of high government. Sukui bowed his head. 'Please, let me move at a pace dictated by my own judgement.'

Axelmeyer shrugged and played a quick trill on his mouth-organ. 'Fine, fine. Tell me when you want to know anything.' He moved across and opened the tall windows, stepped through and surveyed the street below. 'One day, Kasi,' he said. 'One day, this will all be free.' He spread his hands, embracing Alabama City.

Sukui looked at Axelmeyer's broad back. Standing, as Axelmeyer was, against the low railing of the balcony, it would be an easy matter for a man of slight build—Sukui, for instance—to push him over. Sukui had always been a man of peace. He had never physically hurt a person in all of his life. But now, if there was one person he could guiltlessly kill it was Siggy Axelmeyer.

Sukui took one step forward. Looking down he saw that the ground below was paved; the odds of surviving such a fall were not favourable.

Axelmeyer turned, laughed, slapped Sukui on the shoulder and the moment had passed. 'Did you ever think it would come to this, Kasimir?' he said. 'Cousin fighting cousin—don't look so shocked, Kasimir, there's no pretence now. I'm challenging Salvo for the Primacy. The way things are, if I don't then someone else will.'

'Please,' said Sukui. 'Credit me with a little more. You cannot innocently claim to be stepping in to fill the void; you cannot claim to be saving Alabama City from a worse alternative. Not to me. You have manufactured this situation, you have guided the forces of the city to your own purposes.'

'Perhaps you're right, Kasimir. Perhaps not. But this is how it is and I am the best person to harness the energies of the city. Salvo is out of touch. The treaty with Hanrahan was wrong. He sold us and he sold us cheaply. Now Alabama City is riddled with cultists from the north, Conventists and Jesus-Buddhists and Nano-Hippies. We need a strong Primacy.'

'You have been talking to the Conventists,' said Sukui.

'They threw me out of their meeting!'

'And since that day they have been mobilising their support. Prime Salvo would have defused your challenge but
they
responded, they have given you someone to fight. They have given you an opportunity to make the Prime look weak.'

'Only the
Prime
can make himself look weak, Kasimir.' Axelmeyer shrugged. 'Maybe you're skirting around the edges of the truth. Conflict is a necessary element of government, it keeps the cogs turning. You're a
scientist
—you, if anyone, should see that.'

Sukui stared across at the Capitol. It was late afternoon and servants were flowing in and out, changing shifts. Soon it would be dark and the streets would be unsafe again. 'There are alternatives,' he said. 'There is always an alternative.'

'You said you wanted to move at your own pace,' said Axelmeyer. 'Kasimir, you're transparent. If you wish to side with me then say so. That's why you came here, isn't it? Yes? I thought so. Or was there something more? You're playing safe. Very
rational
. Looking out for yourself.'

'I came here to tell you something,' said Sukui, then he stopped himself. His plan had been to buy the safety of the Project with the information about the Orbitals. He had planned to tell Axelmeyer everything. He looked at Siggy's face, full of the passions of power and conflict. 'But,' he corrected himself, 'I feel the time is inappropriate.'

'I don't like you, Kasi. Not one bit. But I recognise your value. I could have you interrogated but I doubt your information is that important and, anyway, I would prefer that you came to me of your own freewill. Come here tomorrow evening, if you're going to come at all.'

'I will be here,' said Sukui. It was the rational choice, but he was glad it had been deferred for another day. At that moment all he wanted was to be away from Siggy Axelmeyer. He did not like the feelings the man inspired in him. 'I will return and give you my decision then.'

~

Kasimir Sukui descended the last flight of stairs and smiled as Axelmeyer's small servant hurried to open the door for him. 'Thanks, sir,' she said, refusing to meet his gaze. 'Thanks for being s' nice.'

He felt disturbed by the way she hurried about so. It was indicative of unfair treatment. 'Run away,' he said to her, impulsively, 'and start anew.' She just looked at him, confused and smiling. He was suddenly glad that he had refrained from giving Axelmeyer the information he had intended. Surely there must be a better alternative? As the door shut behind him, he hoped he had underestimated Salvo, that the Primacy would ride out the current disturbances.

Sukui paused on Canebrake House's front steps and surveyed the ever-moving crowd, its patterns always a mystery. He shook his head slowly. A rational person must always face the truth, if he wishes to retain reason. Standing, across from the Capitol, on the steps of Siggy Axelmeyer's rented house, Kasimir Sukui admitted that truth: finally, he was lost. He had run out of options.

He did not know what to do.

The admission felt strange to him. Always, he. had been guided by his calculations, his information, his rigorously determined facts. But now his path had become one of those unfathomable mysteries. He did not even know where to begin.

There was only one person he could turn to, one like-minded person who might shed some light upon his dilemma. He would go to Lucilla Ngota, he would tell her everything. Maybe the simple process of talking would free the cogs of his mind and help him see what he must do.

It was all that remained.

He set off across the Route Magnificat, feeling better already. Traders' Gallery was less full than the norm; Sukui had little trouble pushing his way through to the western gallery and the Pageant of the Holy Charities.

Chet Alpha was there, his head buried in Alya Kik's chest. 'Chet,' said Sukui. 'Tell me: where is Lucilla Ngota? I have to speak with her.'

'He don't want to speak,' said Alya, holding Alpha's head in place. 'He's not happy.'

'Where's Lucilla? Please.'

'She's out with Larinda and some others but it's no good. They're spreading the word but people don't like it, they don't listen. Chet, he gave a sermon on Grand Rue Street. He say there's people living above us, he say there's
angels
and all they want is to talk with us and make us be happy, but they don't listen, it's no good. There were Conventists there an' they started singing Golden Life-Fountains an' throwing eggshell crosses, an' the street kids started throwing 'em back an' we were lucky to get out of the middle of it all. So Chet, he's not happy now. He needs a mamma.' She rubbed the back of Alpha's neck and nodded, agreeing with herself.

Sukui turned and made his way out of the gallery. He would stand little chance of finding Lucilla in the darkening streets of Alabama City and the risk to his own safety on any but the main thoroughfares would be too high if he stayed out for much longer.

~

It was as he turned down a quieter side street, making for Soho, that Kasimir Sukui realised he was being followed. There was a figure he had spotted outside Canebrake House and dismissed, a face he knew vaguely, a military man, a trooper. That was not unusual in the vicinity of the Capitol. In Merchant Chapel he had seen the man again; that had been notable, but not highly improbable.

Now there was no doubt. There were only about fifteen others passing along this particular side street. The probability of such an occurrence by chance was minute.

Sukui was being followed.

He searched his memory, recalled the man's name and rank. Jan Gromyko, Lower Lieutenant, private attachment. He could be a bodyguard, posted to protect Sukui during these troubled times. Even as he snatched at this hope, Sukui dismissed it: he would have been told, there was no reason to keep a bodyguard secret.

The answer was simple: the Prime must have Canebrake House under surveillance. And now, in consequence, Sukui.

He walked on, not allowing his pace to falter. They would achieve nothing by following him. He had done nothing wrong; he had nothing to fear.

But then he remembered his last encounter with the Prime. 'Nobody works behind my back, Kasimir. Nobody does that. I hope you are listening, Kasimir: I will smash anyone who conspires against me.' No, he thought, he was not conspiring against the Prime. But he was working behind his back, he was trying to save the Project. And now he was linked with Axelmeyer. The Prime was in a sensitive state.
Unbalanced
was the word that came to mind.

Sukui swallowed drily. He could no longer rely on the Prime for support. All he had was himself and a small amount of time.

He came to the junction with Ruby Way, joined the mindless flow of the crowd. He sensed Gromyko behind him. Maybe there was more than just the one of them. He stopped himself from looking around. He passed in front of a mule-drawn wagon, loaded high with cheeses and flies. He quickened his pace, lost himself in a knot of people and stepped through an open door.

'Good evening,' he said. 'Please do not get up. The Prime sends his greetings.'

He was in a private dining room, well-dressed merchants gathered round a well-dressed table. He passed through another door and was in a hallway. He heard voices raised behind him but refused to panic.

The door at the far end led on to a compact yard where hens pecked in the dust. He shut the door behind him, gathered his robes and climbed on top of the poultry hut. He swung his legs over a high brick wall and then dropped to the other side. His ankle gave a sharp twinge, but he was still able to walk.

He was in another yard, a little bigger than the first. He stepped through a doorway and into a kitchen, his mind working frantically, trying to locate himself on a street plan of Alabama City.