Seeds of Earth (37 page)

The door clicked shut behind her and she whirled to see Julia standing before it.

'We're all in terrible danger,' Julia said. 'Two of their servants arrived last night but I have lost them, somewhere/within my abundance ...'

'This is all very un-Julia-like of you,' Catriona said sharply. 'But then you did put me through the helpremorseful-Julia-redeem-herself playlet a few times, I seem to recall. Not this time, though.'

'I cannot see them, and who can tell what they are planning?' She stretched out her hands. 'Please, Catriona, I have been blind for so long - join with me and be my eyes. You are special, so different from the People of the Leaves, and so rare, even among your own kind ...'

A chill went through her, the cold realisation that this truly was no dream, nor was this in any sense Julia.

She's not in your head, you're in hers.

An unreasoning terror welled up in her, wiping away the room and the pleading Julia — and suddenly she was wide-eyed and awake, fumbling the
vodrun's
door open, tumbling out to sprawl on damp mats, gasping for breath.

Was that Segrana}
she thought.
What did it mean by 'join?
Then she remembered something else - 'Two of their servants arrived last night. . .'

She shivered in the fading light. Nivyesta's orbit would soon be carrying this part of Segrana into nighttime but for now some sunlight filtered down from above, striking gleams and glitters from the raindrops that had fallen while Catriona had been in the
vodrun.
And she thought about how it was dark and shadowy down on the forest floor, and found herself imagining soft-footed intruders skulking through the undergrowth, weapons in hand and malice in their eyes.

Still seated on the high, narrow platform, she hugged her knees and tried to think.

37

THEO

To get to Sundstrom's villa, Theo had to go with three security guards through the adjacent property's grounds to avoid the dozen or more reporters camped outside the villa's main gate. It was overcast and unseasonably mild this early in the morning, with the promise of more rain to follow last night's succession of showers.

It had been raining steadily by the time Theo and Donny Barbour and the others had reached the Port Gagarin terminal, only to find it sealed off, jumpy local police and DVC soldiers covering every exit, while all flights had been grounded. They soon found out why, which contributed to Donny's ill humour, itself sharpened by news that the DVC squad assigned to Kuros had been disarmed on the say-so of the Earthsphere ambassador and were being interrogated by Brolturan officials and officers. Nothing Barbour could say was enough to get him through the cordon - the comm system hubs might have been out but the order had apparently come through on one of the old landlines, express instructions from the deputy-president to allow the Brolturans to conduct an investigation unhindered.

Theo had been astonished to hear this and only a little more surprised at Barbour's cold and impassive response.

'The port is theirs,' he had said in low, clipped tones. 'No point in staying here - we should get back to Hammergard.'

He had then turned and strode off back to the spinnercar, followed by Theo, Rory and Janssen. Pausing by the car, Donny tried his comm once more, got nothing, weighed it in his hand for a second before hurling it with sudden violence against a nearby brick wall, where it shattered into pieces. Saying not a word, he calmly opened the driverside door and got in. Janssen merely arched his eyebrows for a moment, but Rory had grinned and nodded. 'Ah wiz worried there,' he had said as they climbed in and Donny drove off.

Once back in his apartment, Theo had made for the lounge, thinking to check a news channel on the vee, but then exhaustion started dragging at him with a hundred hands and he had found himself swaying on the spot.

J
may be a fit fifty-year-old,
he thought.
But I'm still fifty.

Almost without thinking, he had staggered into his bedroom, where he fell asleep fully clothed.

Until he was roused by an insistent hammering on his door about three hours later. It turned out to be a government courier with a handwritten note from Sundstrom pleading with him to come to the villa for a 'crucial advisory meeting'. Bleary-eyed, he had starec at the note and the courier, then sighed.

'Right . . . okay . . .' He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at the kitchen. 'Coffee's in the brown jar, beakers are on the board - I'll be having a shower.'

'It's all right, sir. I don't want anything to drink.'

'It's for me, laddie - my need is greater than yours!'

Now he was following one of the security guards through a cleverly masked gap in the hedge then along the side of the villa to a porticoed side entrance. Theo wondered what would be on the agenda as he was shown into a dim passage then up a flight of stairs. It wouldn't be hard to guess, going by the radio reports he'd heard during the drive here. It seemed that the Brolturans had determined that the Darien soldier who assassinated their ambassador had died in a grenade explosion only moments after the murder. Some of the DVC soldiers present had been released into the Office of Guidance's custody while a few others were still being questioned at the terminal. In addition, the Brolturans were fortifying the Hegemony embassy on the basis that the next ambassador would be based there. The perimeter wall had been heightened overnight in several places and various mysterious devices were being installed at intervals around it. Local residents also reported the comings and goings of small transport craft; it was not known if the Brolturans had obtained permission to overfly Hammergard. Staff at Port Gagarin air traffic centre were said to be tight-lipped about the matter.

I'll bet,
he thought as he was escorted up to the second floor.
No one wants to look a fool, especially when it might make your boss look one too.

Moments later he was ushered into Sundstrom's office, exchanging nods of greeting with Pyatkov and Donny Barbour, who were already seated at a small, ornamental table occupied with heavy-bottomed glasses and a bottle of Urquhart. A wood-cabinet vee was murmuring in the corner, showing
Macroscope,
the 24-hour news channel.

'So, has the Hegemony taken over yet?' Theo said, pouring himself a drink. 'Has Horst finally caved in?'

Pyatkov's smile was thin. 'Not really. The Brolturans are pushing the "we are the victims" line and Starstream are giving them plenty of coverage, along with Kuros and Horst, who are playing the compassionate sympathisers' role for all it's worth. The
Purifiers
commander, this Father-Admiral Dyrosha, even gave an interview on Starstream, of course - expressing his outrage that peaceful Brolturans were slaughtered by, quote "savage settlers", unquote.'

Theo stared at the intelligence chief. 'He really said that? - "savages" plural?'

'The father-admiral was quite concise in his meaning,' Pyatkov said.

'Savages,' Theo echoed.
^l
]a,
and we know who brought them here! Why don't we go get some of those reporters in here and tell them who really has been behind all of this?'

Donny laughed, but Pyatkov was unimpressed.

'Because we have no proof that the Hegemony has sent Humanlike agents among us . . .'

'Apart from Mr Olgren and his singular tattoos," cut in Donny.

'Who's now lying in the morgue,' Pyatkov said. 'Aye, in pieces.'

Theo glanced from one to the other. 'What's this about Olgren? How did he die?'

'Dismembered,' Donny said with a savage relish as he refilled his own glass. 'Seems they tattoos weren't just for decoration . . .'

'My officers had brought him to the OG detention centre and were taking him to Processing when he collapsed on the floor, yelling and gasping,' Pyatkov said. 'Those tattoos were starting to constrict his neck, arms and ankles.' He grimaced. 'Suddenly there was blood everywhere and his escort were looking at a dismembered corpse.'

'My God,' murmured Theo.

'Tells ye one thing, though,' said Donny, looking straight at Theo. 'These people mean business.'

'That may be so,' said Pyatkov. 'But certain events seem to have no rationale, like the rifle left behind after the Giant's Shoulder shooting. They must have known that someone would have traced the scope to High Lochiel and eventually to that rooming house.' He shrugged. 'Was that what it was all about, setting up an elaborate trap? I cannot be sure but my instinct says no.'

Donny hunched forward. 'There's no doubt that all those attacks were supposed to exhaust the OG's resources and divert its attention. Add to that the really convenient comm hub blackout earlier, along with the security cameras in the Bay 2 lounge having their plug pulled just before the Brolturans arrived.'

'Horst requested that,' Pyatkov said sourly. 'Prompted by Kuros, no doubt.'

Theo snorted. 'So there's no record of what happened.'

'Apart from the one apparently made by one of Reskothyr's retinue,' Donny said. 'Which they've promised to release to the news media later today - oh, and to us, in the spirit of cooperation.'

'So where's Sundstrom?' Theo said.

'Trying to cope with a political crisis,' said Pyatkov. 'Storlusson, the master-provost of Trond, has told him that if he cannot restore order and persuade the Brolturans to withdraw their troops, the Northern towns may reform their League as a temporary security measure. Also, he is facing a vote of no confidence when the Assembly meets in emergency session in a few hours. The Consolidation Alliance are pressing him hard while certain elements of his Civil Coalition are badly shaken."

'Could he lose?' said Theo.

'It's on a knife-edge - there's a handful of Legators who are certain to switch to the Consies if he can't stabilise the situation. If that happens and he then lost the vote, he would most likely step down in favour of Jardine. Holding an election under these circumstances is unthinkable . . .'

'Jardine,' Donny said with undisguised distaste. 'That windbag . . .'

Just then, the other door opened and Sundstrom entered in his wheelchair. He looked as if he had aged in the hours since Theo last laid eyes on him, yet a kind of dogged tenacity still burned in those embattled features.

'Gentlemen,' he said, steering his chair over to their table. 'Thank you for coming at such short notice, and my apologies for shortening your sleep.'

'Sleep?' Donny said to Theo. 'What's that again?'

Theo grinned while Pyatkov kept a stone face.

'I've read Vitaly's report on Olgren, which I assume the both of you are privy to,' the president went on.

'What none of you know is that you're here to witness the conference call I am about to take with Ambassador Horst and the High Monitor Kuros. Depending on the outcome, we may have to adjust our short-term tactics.' He leaned forward to pour himself a generous measure of Urquhart and knocked it back in a single gulp. He exhaled pleasurably through gritted teeth and set down the glass. 'My doctor will be most displeased. And now, gentlemen, as my father used to say - it's showtime!'

He propelled his chair over to his desk, fingered its control pad and picked up his comm while turning to face the pair of view screens that had come to life above the low bookshelves at his back.

'My friends, could you move that way, out of the screens' two-way sensors?' Then into the comm he said, 'Is that it? Good, then you may put them through.'

A moment later the screens blinked, one after another, and presented the faces of Robert Horst and the Sendrukan Utavess Kuros. Sombre greetings were exchanged, although Theo thought that Horst seemed the least grave of all three.

'Ambassador, High Monitor - I am sure we are all aware of the despicable act that took place at Port Gagarin last night, and may I reiterate my sorrow and condolences for the victims and their families.' He paused a moment. 'As you might realise, the events of the last few days have had repercussions for my government, especially me. I can tell you that the death of Ambassador Reskothyr has brought things to a head ...' And he laid out the details as Theo and Donny had been told a short time before.

'A tricky situation, Mr President,' said Horst. 'If I may be blunt, if you were to stand down, would Mr Jardine be able to form a stable government? Is that what this call is about?'

'No, sir - Deputy-President Jardine would be unable to maintain the Civil Coalition, thereby losing his majority in the Assembly and facing his own vote of no confidence, which he would inevitably lose. While this is happening, Trond and her neighbouring towns would, I've been assured, re-establish the Northern League, triggering protests, arrests, expulsions and general civil unrest. Any attempt to run a general election amidst such upheaval would be almost impossible, and the full consequences would of course be broadcast for all to see.'

Both the offworld diplomats were now soberly attentive.

'What this call is about is my persuading you, High Monitor, to withdraw the Brolturan troops, and you, Ambassador, to provide Darien Colony with, say, a company of Earthsphere marines to assist my government in maintaining security and stability, as well as deepening ties with the homeworld. What do you say?'

Theo exchanged astonished looks with Donny and Pyatkov.

A hard gleam had entered the Sendrukan's gaze. 'This is scarcely diplomatic language, Mr President. FatherAdmiral Dyrosha would be far less understanding than I.'

Sundstrom smiled and nodded, all evidence of his earlier fatigue seemingly vanished. 'High Monitor, I agree that my recommendation lacks the diplomatic niceties, but I am sure that the honourable father-admiral will understand it if you tell him clearly. If you as yet remain unconvinced by my determination, then let me acquaint you with some recent developments. Last night my security service detained a man known to be a member of the Free Darien Faction, a man whose body was decorated with bands of tattoos. Soon after he was taken into custody, these tattoos turned into some kind of implants which then constricted, dismembering him in minutes, so that he quickly died of blood loss and shock. Analysts tell me that these skin implants can only have come from offworld, which forces me to conclude that Darien's internal affairs are being interfered with.'