The Thin Blue Line (The Empire's Corps Book 9) (v5.1) (21 page)

“It’s about time,” a loud and overweight man proclaimed. “This whole affair has been just disgraceful!”

Belinda ignored him, choosing instead to peer down into the streets, far below. Hundreds of Civil Guardsmen were moving around, shoving bound prisoners into lines and searching them roughly. It reminded her of some of the early battles on Han, when it had been impossible to tell the difference between friends and enemies ... and the occupation force had ended up largely converting the former into the latter. Some of the prisoners looked to have been beaten too, unsurprisingly. The Civil Guard wasn't trained to handle riots without considerable levels of violence.

“I shall be complaining to the Governor about this,” the man thundered. “I will ...”

“Be quiet,” another man said. “The Governor won’t want to be bothered with you.”

The waiter spoke before the argument could properly begin. “The security forces have established a cordon at the main entrance,” he said. “You will all have to pass through the security sweep, then take taxies to your homes. Please proceed to the elevators in an orderly manner.”

Augustus caught Belinda's arm as the room slowly emptied. “I’m sorry about tonight,” he murmured, as they walked towards the elevators. “I meant it to end better.”

“It’s not a problem,” Belinda assured him. “None of this was your fault.”

She mulled it over as they entered the elevator, which started to sink down towards the ground floor. Whose fault
was
it? Unless she was very much mistaken, the riot had been planned in advance, given when and where it had appeared. And that meant ... that someone thought they could benefit from the chaos? A criminal faction, perhaps, or someone with darker ambitions? And what, if anything, did it have to do with the conference?

Augustus had hinted, once or twice, at doing something for the Governor. The conference? It was quite possible, Belinda considered. Augustus was clearly competent – a far cry from the drunk she’d met on the orbital tower – and if the Governor intended to build up a power base of his own, someone like Augustus would be invaluable. But she couldn't ask him without revealing that she knew too much, information that would not normally be available to a visiting tourist. She hadn't even found a
hint
about the conference on the planetary datanet.

The elevator shook as it reached the bottommost floor, then opened the doors. Outside, Belinda saw a line of uniformed Civil Guardsmen, all of them looked nervous. It was a worrying sight, given the way they were fingering loaded weapons, but she understood how they felt. Riots were never safely predictable; rioters might be cowed as soon as the security forces arrived or they might turn on the newcomers and attack them with terrifying force. And the people they were meant to process, right now, were among the planet’s elite. A single complaint would be enough to ruin a career and a whole family.

If they have families
, part of her mind noted. The thought of a Civil Guardsman going home to a wife and children seemed a little absurd. Marines rarely married when on active service, but they had the excuse of being moved around the galaxy like pieces on a chessboard. The Civil Guardsmen were generally stationed on one planet, yet their idea of courtship was everyone else’s idea of rape. Or maybe she was just being unpleasant for the sake of being unpleasant.

“Please form an orderly line,” a senior officer – Belinda couldn't help noticing that he wore no nametag – ordered. “We’ll process you as quickly as possible.”

Surprisingly, no one complained. Or perhaps it wasn't surprising, Belinda decided; the hundreds of armed men were hellishly intimidating. So were the sounds from outside, the moaning and crying from the wounded or prisoners. She ran through her audio discrimination programs and decided that there were at least thirty wounded on the streets outside, all in need of help that might not come. Terra Nova wasn't as overpopulated as Earth, she knew, but the ratio of doctors to patients was still terrifyingly low.

One by one, the guests passed through the security check. Belinda watched carefully, nervous about the prospect of a deep-body scan, but it seemed to be nothing more than an ID check and a handful of questions. That was a relief, she told herself; a deep scan would reveal her implants, if the masking systems failed to work properly. A couple of thickset men were given a more thorough search – they were bodyguards, she suspected, and probably had some enhancements of their own – but they were let through the system afterwards. And then she watched grimly as Augustus passed through the check. It was astonishing how the guards moved from being suspicious to practically genuflecting as soon as they realised who he was.

“Please step forward,” one of the guards ordered, once Augustus had passed through. “And place your ID chip in the reader.”

Belinda activated her masking systems, then obeyed. Her sensors reported a light scan for concealed weapons, which wouldn't go deep enough to locate her implants, and nothing else. Like the scanners on the orbital tower, it would reveal the shape of her body, practically stripping her naked, but it wouldn't reveal anything sensitive. But then, she reminded herself, even a full strip and cavity search would reveal nothing. They’d have to cut her open to reveal and remove her implanted weapons.

“You’re a long way from your hotel,” the guard observed. “Why did you come here?”

“I was on a date,” Belinda said, nodding to Augustus. She cursed herself under her breath, annoyed. Every so often, the Civil Guard revealed a surprising amount of competence. Her address on Terra Nova was well away from the central district, so they needed to understand why she’d been there in the middle of a riot. “We met on the orbital tower.”

The guard looked disbelieving. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Belinda said, trying to sound haughty. A hint of weakness might prove disastrous. If he tried to take her into custody, she would have to leave it the same night and go underground.
That
would make her task much harder. “You can ask him, of course.”

“We were dating, true,” Augustus said, when asked. “And she was here for hours before the chaos started.”

“That will be checked,” the guard grunted, but he waved Belinda through without further questioning. He clearly didn't want to make an enemy of Augustus. “Your contact code has been noted. If you are called upon for questioning, you will need to report to the nearest police station as soon as possible.”

“Asshole,” Augustus muttered, as they stepped out onto the street. “You want me to have words with his superiors?”

“No, thank you,” Belinda said. She shrugged. “I’ve been in his place, vetting people who might be innocent bystanders or who might be responsible for the trouble. It’s never an easy job.”

“I suppose it isn't,” Augustus said. He looked up and down the street. “And to think this was such a peaceful place, once. My daughter used to love it.”

Belinda followed his gaze. The shopping district had been wreaked. Hundreds of windows had been shattered, a number of burned-out vehicles lay smoking on the side of the road and dozens of prisoners sat in the middle of the streets, their hands bound behind their backs. She had a feeling that most of the prisoners had gotten in over their heads, but a handful eyed her coldly and calculatingly, suggesting that they might have helped coordinate the riot. It wasn't her job to report them to the Civil Guard, but she made a note of their faces anyway, recording their details in her implants. She could check them against the planetary records later.

“I’ve seen worse,” she said. She shuddered at the memory. There had been a market on Penang, where shoppers could find and haggle over everything from food to brightly-coloured traditional clothing. And then one of the many factions had detonated a bomb in the midst of the crowds. The carnage had been unbelievable. “And this might be just the beginning.”

She briefly considered going back to her hotel, then dismissed the thought as Augustus led the way through the security cordon and hailed a taxi. The driver looked astonished when he saw Augustus’s ID, but happily opened the door and allowed them both to climb inside. Augustus issued orders, then sat back and stared out of the tinted windows as the vehicle hummed to life and headed away from the chaos, towards the wealthy residential zone.

“It looks almost as if nothing has happened,” he mused, once they were a kilometre or two from the security cordon. “Is that normal too?”

“Yeah,” Belinda said. She stared out the window too. The streets were dark, and largely deserted. She’d downloaded the patrol patterns for the Civil Guard from the datanet, but she had a feeling that those patterns had been completely disrupted by the riot. Even the Civil Guard wouldn't have maintained their normal patterns when confronted with all-out chaos. “But you need to be careful.”

Augustus shrugged, then cleared his throat. “I ... um ... I think it would be best if you stayed the night in my apartment,” he said. He sounded oddly embarrassed, like a schoolboy tying to ask out a girl for the first time. “I won't ask you to share my bed.”

Belinda heard howls of laughter in her mind. She ignored them as best as she could.

“Thank you,” she said, instead. There was no point in telling him that she could look after herself. Besides, slipping back to her hotel would be difficult and she would have to trick the security systems into thinking she'd always been there. “I’d be happy to stay with you for the night.”

Augustus squeezed her hand lightly, then settled back in his seat as the taxi passed through a security gate, then came to a halt. The door opened moments later, revealing a large garage with a handful of high-class vehicles sitting under the lights. Showing off, Belinda noted, as Augustus paid the taxi driver and followed her out of the car. The apartment block was tiny, compared to the cityblocks of Earth – and staggeringly expensive. Augustus had a bigger home in the countryside, but this was where he worked. It was very close to Government House.

Which is probably why the rent is so high
, she told herself, as her implants pinged the local network. It was largely secure, with some firewalls that were definitely a cut or two above what civilians were normally allowed to possess. But then, a large enough bribe could get anything in the Empire.
The people who live here are close to the Governor.

“There are fifty floors to this building,” Augustus said, as he led the way to the elevator and pressed his hand against a scanner. Belinda’s skin tingled as a security sweep checked their identities, before the door hissed open. “I rent two of them.”

Belinda gave him a surprised look. “You don’t own them?”

Augustus snorted. “The people who own these apartments wouldn't sell if you offered them an entire planet in exchange,” he said, snidely. The elevator started to move, so gently that Belinda barely sensed the motion. “There’s too much to gain from having the richest and most powerful people in the system renting their apartments.”

“Political access,” Belinda said.

“Precisely,” Augustus said. He sighed. “It's not how wealthy you are, really, so much as who you can influence. And the people living here have
plenty
of influence.”

The elevator doors opened, revealing a large apartment several times the size of Belinda’s first home. It fairly
glowed
with elegance, from carefully-chosen artworks to pieces of furniture that complemented the overall design. And yet, it was lacking something, something that Belinda found impossible to define. It wasn't somewhere she would choose to live.

It’s not a home
, she thought, sourly.
It’s chosen more for status than comfort
.

“Daddy,” a voice called. “Bill wouldn't let me go clubbing! And who’s this?”

Belinda looked up, just in time to see a young girl enter the lobby. She was too beautiful to be real, with an utterly flawless face, blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Augustus had probably paid through the nose to ensure his daughter had the best possible start in life, including a beautiful face, but he’d definitely made her life too easy. His daughter reminded Belinda of Roland, in many ways.

Roland grew up
, she thought, recalling the last time she’d seen the former prince.
Maybe this girl can grow up too
.

“This is Belinda,” Augustus said. “Belinda, this is my daughter Violet.”

Violet eyed Belinda with unconcealed disdain. “Your latest slut?”

Belinda blinked in surprise. It still shocked her, even after nearly fifteen years away from her homeworld, just how little respect the children of the Core Worlds showed to their parents, let alone their teachers and the security forces. There was a reason, she suspected, why most of the Marines came from the outer worlds.
They
grew up in environments where failing to learn from their elders could prove fatal – and where parents were less reluctant to discipline their children.

“My friend,” Augustus said, tartly. “And Bill was quite right to keep you inside. There was a riot.”

“Bill should be sacked,” Violet snapped. “He blocked my access to the datanet!”

“Probably for the best,” Augustus said. He gave Belinda an apologetic glance. “Can you take a seat in the living room? I’ll be along in a few minutes.”

Belinda nodded, then followed his pointing finger and walked into the living room. It was as tasteful as the rest of the apartment, but the effect was spoiled by a number of pieces of clothing scattered everywhere and a large viewscreen, which was displaying scenes from the riot. Belinda was surprised the Governor hadn't managed to clamp down on the news yet – the local datanet hadn't been deactivated until the riot was well underway – but it hardly mattered. She sat down on the sofa and sighed, inwardly, as she heard Violet ranting and raving about Bill. Whoever the man was, she decided, he had the patience of a saint.

Poor bastard
, Pug said.
Did I ever tell you I used to be bodyguard to a famous movie star
?

No
, Belinda thought.
And I wouldn't believe a word of it
.

They’re always brats
, Pug said.
Even if they weren't brats when they started, they become brats soon enough. It’s the fame, you see. It drives them crazy
.