The Szuiltan Alliance (The Szuiltan Trilogy) (28 page)

I bet all their real agents are on more important missions than this one.

"Remind me who you are again?" said Steve, not trying to hide the bitterness in his tone. "I'm no good at names of people I don't give a shit about."

It's unfair to take it out on him
, thought Steve.
But, then again, there's no one else here.

There was silence from the communications system, just a faint crackle of interference that was too strong for the suppressers to kill altogether.

Maybe I was a little harsh?

The silence continued.

Perhaps he's on his way here to beat the shit out of me? He may be young, but he's still had more training than I have.

When the voice finally broke through the silence, Steve released the breath he had not realised he had been holding.

"Mr Drake." The voice was quiet and calm.

He took time to compose himself and keep control. Perhaps he's not so immature after all.

"I realise that my presence here is against your will, and I didn't volunteer for it either, but we must make the best of it. I'm young, but I am a trained field agent. I can help you make contact with our people on Aks, make sure they accept you and don't kill you as a spy."

Steve swallowed in a suddenly dry throat.
True
, he thought.
True
.

There was a moment's silence.

"And my name is Agent Rawlings, but you may call me Jason."

Steve felt suddenly guilty. This Agent Rawlings was only doing his job after all. He was trying to be as helpful as he could given the circumstances, and Steve did need some kind of help in finding the resistance groups that various Inner Council agents on Aks had apparently infiltrated.

"I'm sorry Jason. My nerves are just a bit fucked at the moment." He lay back on his bunk. "I think I'll rest a little longer. Wake me if anything happens."

In the control room, Jason Rawlings smiled and flicked the communicator off. That had been easy, twisting this trader around from anger to guilt. He knew he was good at his job.

The best.

That was why he had been chosen. This was no baby-sitting assignment. This was important,
vitally
important. His meeting with Councillor Braben shortly before lift-off had made that perfectly clear.

"All our forecast-data points to Aks becoming increasingly important in galactic events," the Councillor had said as the two of them sat in the comfortable surroundings of Braben's private quarters.

Jason had shifted with some discomfort in the plush armchair. He was unused to such luxuries, and not even the Reagold logo in the arm of the chair could lessen the impression of opulence.

"We have good reports suggesting that a landing of Szuiltans will soon take place, adding to the Bosen presence already there."

"And then there's Suzex, sir," broke in Jason, his slight discomfort failing to dampen his natural confidence.

"Yes," said Braben thoughtfully. "Suzex. Reports of his involvement continue to trickle in. And that's the problem. They're only trickling in. We have enough agents on Aks, some in quite senior positions, that we should have something more definite. Losing Agent Mirram from her position right next to the Mayor was unfortunate, but there are others who, while not as close, should be close enough to know more."

"Are the reports being blocked?"

"That's one possibility, certainly. We need something to flush things out, something unusual or unexpected enough to force matters. If someone is working against us on Aks then we need to bring them into the open."

"Drake."

Braben smiled. Agent Rawlings was both intelligent and direct but, just as important, not
too
intelligent.

"Exactly. Steve Drake has been making noises about wanting to get back at the Szuiltans. The man's a complete fool of course, and no use to anyone normally, but here... well, I think we can use him."

Braben took another sip of the wine in his hand. It was only made of simulated fruit, but the taste was still pleasurable.

"With a bit of subtle manipulation, we've directed his desires towards Aks and persuaded him that he should be accompanied."

"By me?"

"By you."

Jason smiled. "So, I get him to Aks, put him in touch with some of our people and wait for things to happen, yes?"

"Yes."
Clever,
thought Braben.
Perhaps a little familiar in his tone, but useful.

Jason tried a sip of his own wine and grimaced. He was happier with a bottle of MBP.

"What if Drake becomes a liability? He's got no training and he's likely to tell people about us who shouldn't know."

"That's part of your job. Make sure he doesn't. Stay by him, watch him, lead him away if necessary."

"And if he continues to be a problem?"

Braben shrugged, took another sip of wine.

"Kill him."

Chapter 43

The globe of Earth had been central in the shuttle's viewing portal for some time now and Tina Harrison gazed at it with a calm and poise she did not feel.

Out at the edge of the Solar System lay the Reagold Cruiser which had brought her here, and from which she had embarked aboard the Earth shuttle sent to meet her. Out at the edge of the Solar System lay her feeling of security, her sense of safety, and her last chance to change her mind.

She glanced around at her entourage. All seven acted as advisors, companions and bodyguards, yet she still felt exposed. She had been to many troubled planets, spreading the good news that was Reagold, and she had faced dangers in those travels, yet nothing had perturbed her the way this assignment on Earth did. Why? She had no answer. There was no basis for this feeling in logic. Reagold had assurances from both the Earth government and the Larnian Priesthood that her welcome would be warm and friendly, and yet the doubt remained.

She thought back to how she had first found herself guided to this assignment, as she and the Director had lay naked, side by side in the flickering light from his grand fireplace, staring at the ornate ceiling.

When the Director spoke, his voice was soft, little more than a whisper as he turned onto his side to face her.

"You did well to give us a foothold on Earth."

How can he talk business at a time like this
, she thought, but she turned to look at him, smiled and said "Thank you, but I was only following instructions."

"You carried them out flawlessly. I just hope the person who takes it to the next step can do as well."

"The next step?"

"Our representative on Earth, of course. A vital role, and one that, if carried off well, would mean a lot to Reagold."

Translate that as a promotion and increased benefits, plus future perks no doubt. No executive would turn down such a chance.

Tina traced a slow meandering line with her fingers over the Director's chest, down his stomach, along his thigh.

"You need someone with prior experience of the situation," she said, smiling and leaning forward to kiss him.

At the time she had thought she was doing the manipulating. Now she saw how she had, herself, been manipulated.

"We'll be landing soon Miss Harrison. Is there anything you'd like to go over before we meet the Earth people?"

For a moment she was not sure who had spoken, then she identified a young man called, she believed, Roland. A member of her entourage. She cleared her throat and her mind of memories.

"No, thank you Roland. I think I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

The reception hall was ornate in design, grand in size. It was narrow, its immense length giving the impression of a tunnel, and the ceiling arched so high the topmost designs were barely visible with the naked eye.

A glorified corridor
, thought the Controller, sitting at the far end away from the entrance.
Too narrow. Too high
.

His chair had been fashioned from the remains of a throne once used by the ancient kings and queens of the country that was now his palace. Systems had been built into the chair to provide security in case of attack, and communication capability with the palace's computers. He had once asked the leader of the design team for a more detailed description of what had been added to the chair only to receive the answer "devices".

Devices. I can't put my trust solely in devices. That is what Reagold specialise in. Devices.

There were factions among his people who distrusted
devices
even more than he did. Most vocal among those, until recently, had been the Larnian Church, which made their current courting of Reagold even more unusual.

What are they up to?

He glanced towards Loadra, standing to one side. The High Priest stood impassively, eyes fixed somewhere in the middle distance, lost in his own thoughts. Other aids shuffled and whispered around him, waiting the arrival of this newest ambassador on Earth, but Loadra stood silent and alone.

What are you thinking?

The Controller turned his eyes towards the far door, closed at present, ornate designs visible even at this distance.

This reception hall had not been used for some time. It was being used now at the express request of the Church.
"To honour our guest as she deserves".

There was almost a hint of desperation in the Church's behaviour. Obviously Reagold had become vital to the Church's plans.

But what are those plans? Why am I not informed?

Reports from his spies had been sparse and uninformative. The High Council knew he had spies in their Church, just as he knew they had spies in his government, Loadra most obviously, but they had always allowed their operation with little hindrance. Now, the lack of information hinted at something important, something critical, perhaps even something at odds with his government.

Am I under threat?

One side of the great doors opened enough to allow a soldier to enter. The Controller watched him as he marched up the great hall, admiring the control that kept his steps steady.

I always want to hurry, to get from one end to the other as fast as possible.

The soldier stopped a respectful six feet away from the converted throne and saluted.

"The Reagold Representative has arrived sir and is being escorted here."

The Controller nodded, searching for a name in his memory. He knew the soldier's face, but the name continued to elude him. He noted the insignia on the uniform.

"Thank you Lieutenant. You may return to your post."

The Lieutenant saluted again and stepped to one side, turned to face the door and stood rigidly at attention.

Now I remember
, thought the Controller,
Lieutenant Dawson. Temporary assignment to my personal guard, filling in for Lieutenant Lichfield while he's on leave.

He found it strange to think of the circumstances that had brought Lichfield into his service, and of how he now felt a slight discomfort without him nearby. Lichfield had saved his life once, on 'Armistice', and had proved a figure of calm and reassurance since. That Lichfield's presence still caused Loadra annoyance and embarrassment was simply a welcome bonus.

He straightened himself in his chair as both great doors swung open smoothly and silently. An Earth guard of 'honour'...

No harm in being cautious
, he thought.

...headed the small procession into the hall, closely followed by the Reagold Representative, flanked by her own entourage of aids, advisors and, no doubt, bodyguards.

The Controller's first impression was of a striking and confident woman, near-white hair framing an attractive if stern face. The lights in the hall glinted off the chain at her ear, giving the entrancing impression of a glittering waterfall from ear to neck. Such fashions had yet to reach Earth but, despite its unusualness, the Controller found it both fascinating and aesthetically pleasing.

Tina quelled the quivering of her stomach. She had too much experience to let her nervousness be victorious here.

As the doors swung open and she entered the reception hall, it's sheer size almost made her stumble. At the far end of what seemed like an oppressive funnel sat the Earth Controller, small, overweight, yet still an imposing figure.

Such a long way to walk. Such a dreadful long way to pull legs that were weighed down with hours of space travel and a deeply concealed nervousness that seemed to have sunk into her feet.

It's designed for this precise effect,
she consoled herself.
It's designed well.

Chapter 44

Sharon Lichfield woke to the crashing of thunder, an explosion that rattled the bedroom window and rolled away across the nearby hills. She peered through tired eyes towards the open curtains as lightning gave the sky and treetops a momentary daylight. She waited, one second ... two seconds ... three... The thunder was even louder this time. She could feel it through the bedroom floor, through the bed itself.

As the echoes died in the night she turned and reached a hand across to the far side of the bed. It was empty.

"Martin?"

Where is he?

Suddenly she was afraid. He had been so quiet lately, so sullen and withdrawn. His leave had barely been a day old before they had rowed about his attitude, his change in personality. He had been a talker, a conversationalist, a teller of anecdotes at dinner parties, always ready to discuss matters academic or otherwise. Now he seldom spoke, and when he did it was another person speaking, a person who spent his days among orders and killing, a person lost without the regimented stricture of his daily routine.

What if he's finally been driven over the edge? What if he's hurt himself?

She swung herself out of bed, pausing only to grab a long blouse thrown over the bedside cabinet the night before. She pulled it on as she hurried towards the door, her eyes glancing momentarily at the bedside clock: 4am.