Read Seeds of Earth Online

Authors: Michael Cobley

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fiction, #Space Opera, #General

Seeds of Earth (41 page)

BOOK: Seeds of Earth
4.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

'I don't know,' said Macrae. 'Horst . . . he's pretty staid, pro-Hegemony, pro-alliance to the core.'

'That's why we have to tell him that we have copies of this in Sundstrom's hands and circulating round the colony' Theo grinned. 'So if he wants to avoid a public outcry and diplomatic scandal all rolled into one and then seized on by every reporter within reach, he'll have to get Kuros and his pet Brolturans to send their peaceboat home.'

'Sounds like a flare,' Macrae said. 'But it might fly. So how do we get this to Horst as soon as possible?'

'It so happens that I know exactly where he is, right now,' Theo said. 'At the Falls of Gangradur on the southern shore of Loch Morwen ... well, at the Mistwatcher Guesthouse that overlooks the Falls. I know that he's been touring a local fishery and the Veiled Caves and th? t he's to spend the night there, which presents our opportunity. In my role as presidential adviser I can get in to see him and show him Barney's recording, safe in the knowledge that Kuros is twenty-odd miles away.'

'How do we get there, chief?' said Rory. 'Take the coast road?'

'We'll charter a zeplin,' Theo said. 'Fly straight across the loch and be there in an hour. What say you, Barney?'

'It's a great story, Mr Karlsson,' Macrae said, slipping the display unit back inside his jacket. 'I'll follow it all the way'

Theo looked at the others and they all nodded.

'Just as long as my brother stops for a quick shower,' Alexei said, jabbing his thumb at Nikolai, who sniffed at him then wafted his hand before his face.

'I'm not the only one . . .'

'Depending on how long we have to wait when we get to Northeast Fields, we can clean up a bit,' Theo said.

Everyone stood and drank a toast to luck and the hunt before leaving. It was a ten-minute walk to Northeast Fields, after which half an hour was spent looking over the available charters in the hires room. Given a bid marker by the hires allocator, they went looking for berth 18 and found a curious, block-shaped zeplin beneath which sat its captain, a stocky Dansk named Gunnar. Business was transacted and ten minutes later they were climbing into the sky over Hammergard, heading south. As the roofs and streets of the city dwindled and slid away, Theo suddenly remembered that he had meant to contact his sister and arrange to go round and see her. 'Damn ...' he muttered, resolving to call her when he got back, Greg too. It felt as if the whole crisis was cutting him off from his family, especially the ones he really cared about. Yet he knew that part of him was enjoying it, or at least enjoying the intensity of tactical judgement, the threat and the risk.

Just as long as it doesn't put the ones I love in danger,
he thought.
That's what matters.

A little over an hour later, the zeplin was descending to a stubby mooring platform, engines running down as its fore and aft cables were hauled in by motorised winches. Theo paid Gunnar his fee and a retainer and they all disembarked, waving to the winchmen as they did so. The mooring platform was situated in a field bordered by bushes and a stand of whistler trees to the west, their odd-shaped leaves causing an eerie piping chorus in the faint breeze. These were the grounds of Mistwatcher, and as they followed a gravel path through the trees, the guesthouse came into view, a conglomeration of circular buildings raised stiltlike up on pillars. This area was about 50 feet above sea level and not far from the shore of Loch Morwen. But it was dwarfed by the gigantic spur of stone that jutted from a towering slope that led up to a high valley so immense it was almost a plateau set against the grey outlines of massive peaks. The spur tapered and sloped downward to a blunt prow from which water fell in a white column 800 feet through clouds of mist to a boiling cauldron which spilled down a brief series of rapids to Loci: Morwen.

The constant roar of Gangradur Falls grew louder as they approached the guesthouse. Mistwatcher's entrance and admin building was identical to the circular residence modules, only larger and situated at ground level. At the front desk, Theo presented his government ID and asked for directions to Ambassador Horst's suite. When permission was granted, he took Barney and Rory with him, telling the Firmanovs to wait in the lobby. A spiral staircase took them up to a large, covered platform from which walkways radiated to the modules. A green-uniformed attendant seated in a booth pointed out which one led to Horst's residence and minutes later they were standing before its front doors. Theo presented his ID to the visitor sensor and the doors slid apart to admit them to a small, tiled, oval hallway. A slender young man in a dark brown, high-necked suit came forward to greet them.

'Major Karlsson,' he said in a surprisingly deep voice. 'My name is Carolian -
1
am Ambassador Horst's secretary. The desk said that you wish to speak with the ambassador on an urgent matter.'

'That is so,' Theo said. 'It concerns the events at Port Gagarin yesterday.'

'I see.' The man Carolian took out a small grey pad which he studied for a moment. 'Our sensors say none of you is armed but one of you is carrying a digitact of some kind.'

Theo put his hand on Barney's shoulder.

'My associate, Mr Macrae, has a device containing new information about the attack which the president is keen for the ambassador to see.'

'Very well, I will see if he is ready to receive you.'

Carolian left by a side door then reappeared moments later to beckon them in. Theo led the way and was ushered through to a well-lit kitchen/breakfast bar where the ambassador sat at the table, playing chess with a ghost.

'It's a hologram,' Macrae murmured. 'Supposed to be his dead daughter.'

The translucent figure was of an attractive young woman, early twenties perhaps, with long brown hair, wearing a many-coloured flowery shift over patterned blue trousers. Theo knew the background from news reports and Pyatkov's briefings, which said that Horst's daughter had died a couple of years ago, yet the sight made the hairs on his neck prickle.

'Good day, gentlemen,' Horst said, rising to face Theo. He was wearing a calf-length house-gown of some olive green material, fastened loosely with a yellow sash. 'Major Karlsson, yes? The president's adviser . . .'

The two men shook hands. Horst's grip was firm, dry and steady, yet Theo got the impression that there was some concealed frailty to the man.

'My thanks for agreeing to see us, Ambassador. These are my colleagues, Mr Macrae and Mr McGrain.'

More handshakes. Rory had blinked on hearing his surname and his wide-eyed stare flicked between the ambassador and the opaque hologram.
Come on, Rory,
Theo thought.
Don't let me down, lad.

'And this is my daughter, Rosa.'

The hologram girl smiled at the three men, who gave brief, nervous bows. Theo glanced at Macrae, but he seemed unruffled so he tried to appear unconcerned himself.

'So, Major,' Horst went on. 'You have more information regarding yesterday's horrific events, information so urgent that it could not wait till my return to Hammergard.'

'Exactly so, sir - we have a recording of what happened.'

A look of unease passed across Horst's face. 'A recording? Is it from the Brolturans?'

Theo shook his head. 'Another source, Ambassador. May we show it to you?'

For a moment the ambassador was silent, his eyes glancing sideways for a moment before he gave a sigh and nodded.

'Very well, Major, do you require any equipment?'

Theo turned to Barney, who already had his displayer in hand. 'Um, would it be okay to use the ambassador's vee screen?'

'Certainly,'said Horst.

Macrae produced a coil of tendril-thin cable, hooked up the displayer to the vee screen, fingered the screen controls, and moments later was ready. But Horst made him wait while he spoke with the hologram.

'I'm sorry, Rosa, dear, but I have some work to attend to. Can we continue our game later?'

'Of course, Daddy - I'll remember where all the pieces are.'

As fondnesses were murmured, Theo exchanged baffled looks with Barney and Rory. Then the hologram winked out and Horst slipped a flat, octagonal unit into the pocket of his house-gown, put away the chess set and turned back to the others.

'Proceed.'

Barney pointed the black rod remote and the recording played out silently as before. Barney paused it as before, pointing out the number of Ezgara commandos before and after the assassination. When it was over, Horst sat there looking stunned, even a little shrunken in the baggy folds of his gown. But then he stared off to one side, frowning, lips moving, shaking his head slightly as if having a private conversation ...

His AI implant,
Theo realised.
That's what he's listening to . . .

'Ambassador . . .' he began.

'Ah, yes, Major, yes . . .' Horst put finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezing shut as if in discomfort. 'How confident are you of this information's provenance?'

'My colleague, Mr Macrae, is the one who obtained it,' and at Theo's prompting Barney told the ambassador how and why the recording had come to be made. By the end, Horst's expression was weary but grim.

'This is very serious,' he said. 'I would be the first to admit that the Hegemony has in the past employed questionable methods in pursuit of its interests, but to do
this,
and to their closest ally?'

'It looks like a justification for a military intervention.' Theo said. 'But if anything they've stayed their hand.'

'Darien Colony would be in upheaval now if Sundstrom had not manoeuvred us into looking bad to the media.' Horst stared down at his hands. 'If I'd known about this before I would have deployed the marines sooner and in greater numbers.'

'Can this be done now, Ambassador?' said Theo.

'Yes -
1
have a subspace comset in my luggage . ..' He paused and looked to one side. 'It's all right, Harry, I know what I'm doing.' As he got to his feet his attention came back to Theo. 'It's through in the stowaway -
1'll
just...'

The door flew open and the secretary Carolian rushed in, clearly upset.

'The news channel, Ambassador! It's about you . . I Quickly, Horst reached for the vee screen's keypad control and thumbed it on. Up came the Darienwave news channel with one of the regular presenters, Oxana Rugov, and with Horst's face in an upper corner box.

'... just to recap on Our breaking story, the Brolturan delegation has issued a statement accusing Earthsphere Ambassador Robert Horst of planning and ordering the terrorist attack at Port Gagarin yesterday, resulting in the murder of Diakon-Commodore Reskothyr and four others on his staff. The statement goes on to claim possession of damning evidence, eyewitness accounts and a testament given by a DVC soldier who Ambassador Horst allegedly tried to recruit.

'Shortly after the release of this statement, a communication was received by all media outlets from Father-Admiral Dyrosha, commander of the Brolturan vessel
Purifier.
It says, quite simply, that a Decree of Arrest has been issued, naming the ambassador and demanding that he present himself to airborne units which have been sent forth to detain him ...'

Horst staggered back from the screen and dropped into a chair at the table, looking pale.

'It's preposterous ... outrageous!... I had nothing to do with . . .'

'Ambassador, you've got to get to safety,' Theo said. 'Can you call the
Heracles
and get them to send a shuttle to pick you up?'

'Yes, I can,' Horst said, getting to his feet. 'I'll get my comset. . .'

'I'm sorry, Ambassador,' said Carolian. 'But you and your visitors will have to remain here until the arrest detachments arrive.' ..

The slender secretary, poised and composed, was holding a handgun with a strange oval barrel sporting curved flanges along its sides.

'Carolian,' said Horst. 'What the hell are you doing?'

'Following orders, sir, which means that you will have to follow mine.'

Everyone froze. Theo cursed the demented bad luck of Horst having a Hegemony agent on his staff, even though it was only to be expected . . . and then he realised that Rory wasn't in the room. Now he glimpsed movement along the short passage that connected the kitchen with an adjacent room, probably a formal dining room. Carolian hadn't noticed Rory's absence yet, so a diversion was called for.

'You're walking a razor's edge, you know,' Theo said. 'The captain of the
Heracles
won't permit this and Sundstrom will put all military units on high alert.'

'Don't be ridiculous, Major,' Carolian said. 'The
Purifier
outguns the
Heracles
by roughly ten-to-one - if Captain Velazquez tries to interfere he will be fired upon and you'll be dredging pieces of his ship out of the ocean for months to come. As for any forces under Sundstrom's command . . . well, they don't present any kind of serious threat, I can assure you ...'

And that was when Rory's left hand slammed Carolian's head into the wall while his right shoved the secretary's gun hand up at the ceiling as it went off. A bright barb of energy punched through the plaster and woodwork, causing a spray of dust and splinters, while Rory tore the weapon from Carolian's fingers and then punched him to the ground. Leaning over the moaning, bloody-nosed secretary, he said, 'How's that fur a serious threat, matey?'

'Well done, Rory!' said Theo. 'How . . .'

'Ah was over at that window in the corner when he came in, and I could see a gun in his back pocket and I thinks, well now, whit's this all about, so when he pulled it out I hopped up and through that wee delivery hatch smart as ye like. Came round the other side and nabbed him.'

'Excellent. You and Barney get him tied up. Ambassador, let's dig out this comset of yours.'

But when it was unearthed from a large, wheeled trunk the device turned out to be dead. The power cells registered full but nothing was being activated.

'But I used it this morning to speak with Velazquez,' Hoist said.

BOOK: Seeds of Earth
4.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Return to Caer Lon by Claude Dancourt
City of Women by David R. Gillham
The Final Victim by Wendy Corsi Staub
The Mind Reading Chook by Hazel Edwards
The Fever by Megan Abbott
Living to Tell the Tale by Gabriel García Márquez, Edith Grossman
Samantha James by The Secret Passion of Simon Blackwell
The White Fox by James Bartholomeusz