Seeds of Earth (15 page)

They were a tall humanoid race, and although he had seen shots of them on the vee, that did not prepare Greg for the impact of their presence. There were four altogether, three walking single-file behind the High Monitor who strode leisurely along with the Underminister for Culture marching briskly at his side. With a mean height of ten and a half feet, they were much taller than Humans, tall yet not spindly, their torsos broader and in proportion, and it was true - next to them, Humans did look almost childlike. Their attire was elegant, richly detailed and multilayered with semiopaque, long-sleeved garments over stiff, almost breastplate-like inner ones - the three attending Sendrukans wore pastel shades of yellow, green and grey while the High Monitor was decked out in striking ultramarine blue counterpointed by magenta patterns and trim. Head-dresses there were, bulbous pale-blue ones with dangling tassels for the attendants, a tall, black, oddly helical one for their superior.

As the Sendruka approached, Greg half-turned to Catriona and in a low voice said:

'I'm glad you can stay behind - the new research data is fascinating.'

'Just how fascinating?'

'Sensor scans showing passages and chambers inside Giant's Shoulder.'

She glanced sharply at him. 'Is that right? And how would you get hold of such information?'

He shrugged. 'Let's say a little space-bird told me. Fascinated yet?'

Her sharp look softened. 'Aye, okay.'

Then they were face to face with Underminister Hansen and High Monitor Utavess Kuros. As Hansen introduced each of them in turn, the Sendrukan inclined his head and then, surprisingly, politely shook hands. Kuros's hands had a light tan hue and were large with long, slender fingers adorned with a few plain red rings, and a grip whose firmness matched Greg's. The High Monitor said little beyond expressing his pleasure at ^ being here and his anticipation of the event to come, all spoken in perfect, if accentless Anglic, his voice level, melodious, kindly. His face was broad, its features flatter than a Human's, with a high forehead and large dark eyes that seemed perpetually mournful or at least wearywise. Despite his preconceptions, Greg found himself warming to the alien - it was an effort to remind himself of the AIs that shared these aliens' heads.

The audience settled down as the High Monitor and his attendants reclined in their specially provided chairs. Underminister Hansen gave the official welcome from the podium before introducing Greg. Greg briefly explained about the three presentations, and finished with a quotation from Haakon Greig, one of the colony's early chroniclers: 'History has much to teach us, and occasionally resorts to beating us over the head if we don't pay attention.'

A light ripple of applause accompanied him from the stage. Then, as Catriona took his place, he noticed one of the Ezgara bodyguards patrolling a stretch of the temple rampart behind the audience, a sombre reminder of his earlier encounter.

Cat was a little nervous and faltering to begin with, but she soon gained confidence as she gave a concise overview of archaeological discoveries since the colony's founding. A display screen, one of the new compact folding ones, was used to show locations and dates, then a couple of researchers brought out a few artefacts to pass round the audience. Greg smiled - the folding screen had worked first time, and no finds were dropped or broken. When she was finished the audience began applauding politely while remaining seated, but the Sendrukan Kuros got to his feet as if to accord her special approval. The other Sendrukans also rose, as did Greg, grinning widely as he clapped, glancing over his shoulder to see the rest of the audience following suit.

At that very instant he heard an odd sound like someone snapping their fingers close by. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a figure falling backwards ... then saw it was High Monitor Kuros, his arms flailing. Greg thought in that moment that someone must have pushed him, but when one of the Sendrukan attendants moved to help there was another cracking sound and the attendant jerked and sprawled sideways, purplish blood blossoming from his neck.

In a few seconds the orderly, polite audience was transformed into screaming, stampeding chaos.

My Godl
Greg thought, diving for cover.
We're being shot atl

He scanned the shambles of overturned chairs and stragglers making for sections of wall to hide behind, desperately looking for his mother and Uncle Theo. He saw no sign of them but two of the Ezgara were there, as were the OG officers, shielding the High Monitor as the two surviving attendants struggled to carry him out of danger.

'Greg! - over here!'

Craning his head round he saw Catriona and his mother beckoning to him from the lee of a ruined wall which stretched almost unbroken to the site entrance. Reasoning that the gunman would be focused on the High Monitor, he steeled his nerve and dived across a patch of open ground to another mossy outcrop of stonework. From there he dashed to the long wall, joining his mother and Catriona.

'Are you both all right?' he said.

'We are fine, Gregory, fine,' said his mother. 'Such a disgrace that this should happen, and a shame on all of us! To think that there are still fools among us who try to solve an argument by picking up a gun. And Theodor is away to try and find whoever is ...'

'Wait. Uncle Theo went looking for them?'

His mother sighed and nodded. 'Still thinks he is thirty-five. Says it's part of his new responsibilities.'

'Right, Mum, which way did he go?'

'He said the shots came from the ridge overlooking the site . . .'

Greg shuffled to the side, peering round and up at the mass of dense foliage and the treetops beyond.

'Are you thinking of going after him?' Catriona said suddenly.

'I am.'

'Then I'm going with you.'

Looking at her he saw that she was smiling a smile that said,
Just try stopping me.

'Two heads are better than one,' she added.

'And certainly present a better target,' he said. 'Right, then, let's be off.'

His mother shook her head again, this time in exasperation.

'Try not to be as foolish as my brother, will you?'

16

THEO

The higher he climbed the denser the forest became, low-level branches and hanging vines intertwining with the humid undergrowth to form tangles of greenery he sometimes had to go round. Nor did it help that the ground grew increasingly uneven, weed-choked, strewn with fallen trunks, rotting branches and half-buried rocks. But despite the obstacles his sense of direction was unwavering - when that first shot hit the High Monitor, old reflexes made him follow a likely trajectory back into the thickly forested ridge, corroborated by the second shot which took down the Sendrukan attendant.

So now Theo had the sniper's location pegged in his mind, a target he was homing in on. Of course, hunting for an armed assailant while kitted out with a cudgel improvised from a piece of branch probably wasn't the wisest course of action, but it was better than no action. He grinned, knowing what Rory and the others would have to say about taking risks at his age.

Ja, gentlemen,
was his imagined response.
But I've learned bow to take such risks and stay alive!

After another ten minutes of climbing over boulders and trudging across sloping, boggy ground, he reached a spot on the ridge where the tree cover thinned. Looking east he got a good view of Giant's Shoulder, the clusters of ruins and the boxy, grey-green huts and storage units. It was near here, he was sure of it.

Keeping to cover, Theo surveyed the vicinity and soon noticed a denser mass of foliage not far away. Cautiously he slipped through the undergrowth towards it, realising that it was a jutting spur of rock swathed in greenery. He slowed to a wary approach, convinced that the gunman was long gone yet keeping his cudgel ready in case. The humid air seemed suddenly warmer, the sound of birds and insects fading as his own movements became amplified in his own ears . ..

Crouching, he sidled between creeper-wound bushes, edged round a gnarled tree bole, and there it was, a sniper lair. The weedy grass was crushed flat in a long, narrow patch where the gunman had lain down and stretched himself out. And there, of all things, was the gun, a scoped Ballantyne rifle with a sculpted wooden stock, a weapon he recognised from personal experience. Of the shooter there was no sign, no belongings, no leavings, nothing but the weapon and the impression in the grass. Squatting next to it he almost reflexively reached out to the rifle's stock but stopped himself.

'Good idea, Major,' said a voice nearby. 'Wouldna want to get yer prints on it.'

Theo stood swiftly and brought up his cudgel twohanded, only to see a familiar face looking out from the foliage. It was the special forces soldier he had met at Sundstrom's villa, Sergeant Donny Barbour if Rory's informant was right. He nodded and balanced the cudgel on his shoulder.

'So,' he said. 'Business or pleasure?'

Barbour gave a sardonic smile as he stepped into view. He wore core-brown camouflage which extended to the floppy hat and hunting gloves that hung at his waist.

'Got assigned to deep patrol,' Barbour said, hunkering down for a closer look at the crushed grass. 'Was up in a tree further back, scanning the surroundings, when our boy got his first shot off. Had a good idea where it must've come frae and was looking this way when he took his second. Next thing, he came running out of here like the hounds of hell were after him.'

Theo stared down at him. 'So he just dropped the rifle and ran.'

'Aye, Major - he didn't throw it off into the bushes or anything, just put it down, got up and breenjed out. He was moving at a good speed, too, didna trip or catch himself, just flew through those trees and all they vines and bushes like a ghost.' He got to his feet. 'Not a civilian, had to be trained. Could be a mountain-man, somebody from one of the trapper towns ... but that doesn't feel right. Why leave the rifle?'

'Couldn't he be from an elite unit?' Theo said. 'Maybe even one you don't know about.'

'Top of my list,' Barbour said with a bleak smile. 'Listen, Major, it's time we were both elsewhere - a couple of those Ezgara are heading this way and we don't want them getting any wrong ideas.'

'How do you know?' Theo said, half-suspecting the answer.

Barbour tapped his right ear. 'Got an obs link out among that audience. Now what you want to do is go back the way you came but carry on up over the ridge your nephew and Miss Macreadie went that way. Might be wise to find them - safety in numbers.'

He grinned and pointed to the gap in the bushes through which Theo had entered. But when Theo looked back round Barbour was gone with just a few leafy sprigs nodding in his wake. He chuckled to himself and retraced his steps, found a faint animal trail marked with recent shoe prints leading up towards the crest of the ridge. A couple of minutes later he reached it, then saw that the path led along a hillside to a steeper sloping ridge further on. Picking his way along he paused on the crest of the next ridge, overlooking a shadowy, treecloaked gorge, and listened to the sounds of the forest. Amid the rustles of tiny denizens and the sigh of fitful breezes, he could make out voices coming from further up the gorge, from its northerly incline.

He found them on the other side of a cold, clear stream that ran between rounded rocks and the arched roots of ancient trees. Greg was helping a limping Catriona Macreadie as they emerged from a shadowy notch in the gorge wall. Twisted trees flanked its entrance and bushes sprouted high up, choking off light from above. As he drew level with Greg, he glanced into the fissure, from which a brook ran, pouring into a succession of small pools before joining the stream ... and for a moment felt as if he was being watched from the shadows.

Greg went first, offering Catriona support as they crossed from stone to stone. Her face was pale and she gasped occasionally but eventually they were both safely on the other side, Theo offering his arm at the last.

'So what happened?' he said. 'And what were you both doing down here?'

At that, Greg glanced quickly to Catriona, who answered.

'It was my fault, Mr Karlsson -1 was sure I saw footprints leading down to the stream, so I led the way, went across, and . . . and . . .'

'And Cat slipped and twisted her leg, Uncle,' Greg added, exchanging another look with her. 'I got her to rest for a few minutes before deciding to head back, and then you showed up.'

Theo smiled and nodded.
Well, that's a fine line of nonsense you're giving me, boy,
he thought.
What are you hiding? Or should I be wondering?

He was about to ask exactly where Miss Macreadie had injured herself when there was the sound of footsteps and rustling foliage from the ridge overlooking the gorge.

'Found them,' said a voice, and several figures came into view - some OG officers and an Ezgara commando. 'Hello, Mr Cameron - are you and your friends in need of assistance?'

'We can manage, Mr Ingerson,' Greg called back. 'Did you catch the gunman? Is the Hegemony envoy badly wounded?'

'The High Monitor fortunately escaped serious injury but, tragically, his attendant is dead. The killer ... is nowhere to be found.' He broke off and turned his attention to someone unseen on the other side of the ridge. 'Right, Mr Cameron, Major Karlsson and Doctor Macreadie - you'll have to leave the area now as the forensics people will soon be here. Let me know if there's any problem.'

With that, he retreated out of sight, although the Ezgara lingered, staring down. Theo gazed back for a moment then turned to Catriona. 'Well, girl, I don't think you'll manage that climb with a bad ankle, so in the spirit of gallantry I hereby volunteer my nephew Gregory to carry you to the top on his back.'

Greg stared at Theo, eyebrows arched in surprise, but then Catriona uttered a low, warm laugh.

'Well, now,' she said. 'It is the manly thing to do.'

At that, Greg's reserve dissolved into a grin.