'. . . which is why I have brevets here to give to you,
signed by Master Avriqui.' A thin tray slid out from a
black panel below the windscreen - on it were two doc-
uments, folded sheets of light blue textured plas
imprinted with lines of text in Tralesk, a trading lan-
guage. Underneath was a swirling character written with
a double-nib, which Kao Chih took to be Avriqui's sig-
nature.
'How long till we reach Master Avriqui's hold?' he
said.
'We shall be arriving shortly,' said the cart. 'From the
next junction we follow a vascule out to the tubeworks
and our destination is not far beyond that.'
Kao Chih nodded and glanced out at the busy corri-
dor. Away from the contested arrivals lobby, the station
took on the kind of appearance he had been expecting,
archway and doors along the corridors revealing mar-
kets, kiosks and tiny workshops enveloped in a hum of
activity, a jostling flow of creatures and sentients from
every corner of the galaxy. A red-and-black-furred hexa-
pedal Bargalil gestured with a small forearm to a
Gomedran selling light-splines and bubbles, while nearby
a reptilian biped Kiskashin garbed in hooded leathers
tended a stall where clusters of tarnished pipes smoked
amid gauzy veils and glittering trinkets. A muscular
Henkayan was raking through boxes of hardware with
all four arms, examining finds with a headband scope.
On the other side of the stall, an old battered mech
shaped like an upright dumb-bell was doing the same
thing with microfields while floating on its suspensors.
Relaxing a little, he smiled, enjoying the view which
he was seeing from above as Avriqui's lugosivator trun-
dled along the tall corridor's ceiling path. The shops and
stalls went on and he wondered if most of Blacknest
was like this. He saw a pair of Gomedrans haggling
with a half-shelled Naszbur arms dealer; an octopoidal
Makhori coldly eyeing passers-by from the opacity of its
tank; a long-bodied Vusark propped up on a metal
frame, its many sets of legs flexing rhythmically . . .
And a pair of beady eyes in a small, snouted face that
stared straight up at him for an instant then broke away.
Kao Chih had the merest glimpse of a cowl around the
observer's head before it vanished into a side turning. He
was about to mention this but the cart's sentience spoke.
'Sirs, my master wishes to communicate with you.'
A translucent panel appeared in the cart's forward
windscreen and darkened into a display showing their
adviser and prospective travel companion, Rup Avriqui,
sitting in a high-backed wood-and-leather armchair.
Behind him were the glows and shadows of a low-lit
room. Rup Avriqui was a Voth, a squat bipedal race
which bore a superficial similarity to a presentient Earth
species called orangutans. The Voth certainly had long
arms but also had broader torsos and shorter legs, larger
ears and flatter faces. They also had a liking for bulky,
concealing garments - Avriqui was wrapped in layers of
clothing, some finely woven and intricately patterned,
others coarse and plain, while on his head he wore a
strange cap comprising beads and tiny mirrors over
padded cloth.
'Ah, most viable our business, noble visitors, and
most efficient my preparations. Soon we shall be dis-
coursing upon the urgent matter of your task and my
part in its workings.'
'Please accept our thanks for the brevets,' Tumakri
said. 'Reassurance is a gift which lights our way.'
'I am gratified to be able to confound the misfor-
tunes of the current unrest,' the Voth said. 'I must
confess, however, that I had to nominate Master
Gowchee's species profile as being Roug in order to dis-
patch the brevets with my lugosivator. Now I see by the
evidence of my own eyes, as well as the profiles obtained
just moments ago, that Master Gowchee is not of the
exalted and ancient Roug.' The hooded eyes regarded
Kao Chih. 'Humans are not popular, you see, thus there
is danger for you at every turn. Fortunately, you will
both soon be within my hold and I shall have the brevets
modified . .. what is that noise?'
A faint knocking sound had suddenly become a loud
banging. Muttering angrily, the Voth levered himself out
of his seat and moved out of sight, shuffling footsteps
receding. For a moment all was quiet onscreen, then
there was a shout followed by the sound of running feet.
Rup Avriqui abruptly rushed into view, his headgear
askew, his eyes bulging as he lunged at the controls near
the vidcam.
'Exigency nine, exigency nine!' he shrieked, stubby
fingers scrabbling at the panel as a pair of hands, one
metal, one flesh, grabbed his shoulder and dragged him
screaming away. Then the screen went opaque for a
second before melting into transparency. Kao Chih and
Tumakri stared at each other in horror, then grabbed the
edges of their seats as the cart jerked to a sudden stop
halfway down the corridor wall.
'Passengers must evacuate at once,' said the vehicle as
its sides sprang open. 'Deepest apologies for unforgiv-
able treatment, masters, but the Avriqui hold has been
compromised, therefore this unit can no longer guaran-
tee your safety.'
'But . .. but what must we do?' said Tumakri, voice
quivering with shock.
'Return to your ship is the safest course - the safest
course - safesafesafesafe . . . please return to your seats
there is no danger we will soon arrive at residential unit
stem nine radial twelve ...'
Fighting a surge of panic, Kao Chih jumped up from
his seat and dragged Tumakri away from the suborned
lugosivator.
'It was right,' he said. 'We have to get back to the
ship!'
'... yes,' said the Roug. 'Yes, we must!'
Then he shrugged off the Human's support and
leaped into a headlong sprint back the way they had
come. Amazed, Kao Chih took after him, but with his
longer legs Tumakri soon opened up a good lead. The
Roug wove between stalls and knots of sentients, ignor-
ing Kao Chih's shouts to slow down. So intent on his
destination was he that he never noticed the gang of
fur-snouted Gomedra rushing out at him from a side
passage until it was too late.
Kao Chih saw the ambush, shouted Tumakri's
name . . . and in the next instant felt something tangle
his legs, causing him to dive forward and land with jar-
ring force.
'Bind him!' said a guttural voice.
Half-dazed, he fought against rough hands that tied
his wrists and fixed a gag to his mouth.
'The Blacktooth vermin are escaping with the other
one,' came another nasal, rasping voice.
'Then render him worthless,' said the first.
Fearful, Kao Chih tried to yell around the gag and
struggled against his captors. Instead, he was hauled
upright in time to see an armour-clad Bargalil raise a
hexabow and fire off three bolts. There was a brief, high
shriek and Kao Chih knew with horrible certainty that
Tumakri was dead.
'Sack this one and bring him to our new nest!'
A cloth hood stinking of machine oil enfolded his
head and, grasped lengthways, he was carried off,
friendless, soundless and wrapped in darkness.
20
ROBERT
He hated to be late for meetings, hated being out of
breath and feeling sweaty and grimy, but sometimes the
only thing to do was accept it and move on.
'My most sincere apologies to you all,' he said as
he entered the president's private conference room, a
low-roofed chamber with green-textured walls. 'Comm-
unications with my government have proved very slow
overnight.'
'That is quite understandable, Ambassador Horst,'
said Sundstrom. 'But now we can proceed - I assume
you recognise everyone present?'
There were seven people at the large oval table includ-
ing Robert, Sundstrom; Deputy-President Jardine; the
intelligence chief, Vitaly Pyatkov; Theodor Karlsson, an
adviser to the president; General Morag Soutar, the C-in-
C of the Darien Volunteer Corps; and the sixth, a heavily
built, middle-aged man in a dark sober suit, whose name
escaped him until Harry appeared nearby and said, 'Edvar
Storlusson, master-provost of Trond and Sundstrom's
unofficial deputy-president for the Northern Towns.'
Robert smiled and nodded, partly for Harry but
mostly for the gathering. 'Indeed I do, Mr President.'
'Good, then before we discuss this terrible event, I
want us all to take stock of the latest reports. We'll start
with you, Vitaly - tell us about the High Monitor and
his staff, then what your investigations have uncovered.'
Sundstrom sat back in his wheelchair, looking weary
but also, Robert thought, sustained by the anger and
outrage he had expressed during his vee broadcast to the
colony last night. The man had articulated a burning
repugnance for the attempted assassination in language
of such lyrical force and delivery that Robert was able to
imagine what Sundstrom must have been like in his
younger, healthier years.
'High Monitor Kuros,' said the intelligence chief, 'is
well and fully recovered from the shock and distress of
the attack. He and his staff will be holding a private
mourning ceremony later today for their murdered col-
league, Assister Morild. As to the attack itself, we have
determined that the gunman opened fire from dense
forest cover overlooking the Giant's Shoulder excava-
tions. The murder weapon was a forty-year-old 8.5
calibre Ballantyne rifle, modified for hunting with a
15x50 telescopic sight and a sculpted, rebalanced
wooden stock ...'
Photos of the weapon were being passed around, and
General Soutar was quick to comment.
'Practically an antique,' she said in a booming voice.
'Aye, and pricey, too. But deadly in the hands of a
marksman - wouldn't you agree, Major Karlsson?'
There was a brief but uncomfortable silence, then
Karlsson gave an unflustered smile. 'The gunman was
probably a good shot, certainly, General. He also has
excellent woodcraft and stealth skills, but then so do
RD BERT
03
most of the faraway hunters and trappers. What I'm puz-
zled about is why he abandoned the rifle - he must know
that it will inevitably furnish us with information.'
'We are trying to trace the rifle's origins and previous
owners now,' Pyatkov said to him. 'Although the killer
left no prints or any other evidence, we know from the
flattened grass that he was of average height with a
fairly lean physique. One of the High Monitor's body-
guards took away swab samples from the rifle to see if
any DNA evidence can be recovered.
'As for suspects, we have brought a number of known
seditionists and extremists in for questioning, but
although some claim to be members of the FDF no one
can name their leaders or give a coherent summary of
their aims beyond a handful of slogans.'
Sundstrom nodded. 'There may be a degree of dis-
quiet amongst the general populace about some
aspects of the new situation and its consequences,' he
said. 'But there is no grassroots support for violence
and killing. Every call to my office, and to every other
legator, has condemned the shooting, often in vigorous
and colourful language! This has extended to my deci-
sion to cancel the Founders' Victory Day celebrations,
but you can't please everybody.'
There were a few laughs and knowing grins around
the table. Robert smiled.
'It is most reassuring to know that the Darien Colony
is united in its opposition to this act of terror,' he said.
'Whether they turn out to be this Free Darien Faction or
someone else.' He paused. 'Has anyone claimed respon-
sibility yet, Mr President?'
'No one at all,' said Sundstrom. 'It's as if they were
expecting their vile act to start an uprising but nothing
happened.'
'They're not finished,' Karlsson said grimly. 'The next
one will be worse.'
'We have to make sure that there isn't a next one,'
'So you've spoken with High Monitor Kuros about
this matter, Mr President?' Robert said.
'No, Mr Ambassador, but informal channels between
ourselves and the High Monitor's advisers have
remained open.'
'I see.'
Robert sat back, stroking his chin thoughtfully. His
AI companion Harry leaned on the back of his chair,
bent close to Robert's ear and said, 'You'll have to give
them some idea of what they're in for if these attacks
don't stop.'
He nodded slightly and sat straighter, facing the wait-
ing Dariens.
'My friends, the Hegemony takes attacks on its
officials very, very seriously indeed - if this shooting
had occurred on Hegemony territory they would have
instituted the severest measures. Curfews, confiscation
of firearms, a ban on public assembly, restrictions and
censorship of all public media ...'
'That's outrageous,' said Storlusson, the provost of
Trond.
'I've not finished, sir. Satellite surveillance would be
employed in conjunction with positioning tags fixed to
all vehicles and, if necessary, to all civilians. Communi-
cations would be filtered and spying devices of every
kind and size would become omnipresent.'
'But this is not Hegemony territory,' Pyatkov said.
'True, but the Brolturans have made a claim to this
region of the Huvuun Deepzone and I have just learned
that they have dispatched their ambassador to Darien
aboard a line warship - originally it was to be a diplo-
matic corvette but news of yesterday's attack has altered
their posture. So you see, it really is in your interest to
show High Monitor Kuros that you mean to keep him
and his staff safe while doing all you can to capture this
murderer.'
The others listened with worried faces, exchanging
glances when he finished, all eyes eventually turning to
Sundstrom. The president was silent for several
moments, his frowning gaze fixed on the tabletop before
him where he slid and turned a pencil through his fin-
gers over and over.
Have I gone too far} Robert thought. Perhaps I
painted too bleak a picture .. .
'This is all... illuminating, Ambassador,' Sundstrom
said at last. 'What is your position on this? What advice
might you have for me?'
'My government fully supports Hegemony policy on
acts of terrorism,' he said. 'Most of the measures I've
described have in the past been enacted by Earthsphere
authorities in response to attacks carried out in our
domains. My advice to you, which my government has
approved, is to pre-empt the High Monitor's request for
heightened security arrangements - offer a detachment
of your best troops as permanent guards for the
Hegemony embassy and as an escort should he or any
of his staff need to move outside its confines. Consider
the measures I mentioned - I'll have a list sent over
later - and go as far as you can to put them into prac-
tice.'
'You'll never get the Northern Towns to agree to the
likes of censorship and weapons confiscation,' said
Storlusson. 'They'll fight it all the way.'
Robert shrugged. 'Then at least propose curfews and
restrictions on public assembly. Also, you might like to
think about temporary legislation to help enforce anti-
sedition options - that would persuade the Sendrukans
that you're serious.'
Voices were raised but Sundstrom cut them off with a
sharp sweep of the hand.
'Ambassador Horst,' he said. 'I would like to for-
mally request the prompt deployment of Earthsphere
marines to aid the security needs of my government.'
'I'm sorry, Mr President,' he said. 'I have been
instructed that no Earthsphere troops are to be dispatched
to the colony at the present time. You see, the Brolturans