Paula was shown into a reception room, where a man and a woman were standing waiting. ‘This is Mrs Wendy Bose,’ Elene said. ‘And . . .’
‘Professor Truten,’ the man said, offering his hand. He was in late middle age, dressed in the kind of suit which Paula guessed had gone out of fashion several centuries earlier. The fabric was a brown tweed, cut with very small lapels. Judging from the tightness across his shoulders the professor must have bought it quite some time ago. ‘I’ve wanted to meet you for some time, Chief Investigator,’ he said. ‘It’s a shame it had to be under these circumstances.’
‘What circumstances?’ Paula asked.
‘You exert a natural fascination on members of my profession. Unfortunately, I am here to represent Professor and Mrs Bose.’
Paula gave Wendy Bose a sharp glance; in her opinion the woman’s jittery inability to return the contact spelled out a great deal of guilt. Unfortunately, Paula didn’t know what the crime possibly was. The Directorate had run its usual search, and Wendy Bose had come up completely clean. ‘And what is your little profession, exactly?’
‘Ah, yes. I teach law at Leonida City University.’
Paula kept staring at Wendy Bose, who was looking all round the small room. ‘I didn’t know the professor was guilty of anything.’
‘He’s not. Everybody is innocent until proven guilty. Commonwealth charter Clause 3a. As I’m sure you’re aware.’
‘If he’s not guilty, what does he need a lawyer for?’
‘I don’t know. What do you want to question him about?’
Elene cleared her throat. ‘I think I’ll leave at this point.’
‘Thank you,’ Paula said. ‘Please call me when Professor Bose has recovered.’
‘Of course.’
‘So does a professor of law on Gralmond know much about Augusta law?’ Paula asked once the door had closed behind the deputy manager.
‘There’s not much law here to know. Augusta is hardly an enviable democratic model.’
‘Exactly. You don’t have any jurisdiction here. Whereas I have a lot. I can have you removed from the planet very easily.’
‘Surely you believe in fairness, Chief Investigator?’
‘Fairness, I believe in more than you ever can. I also believe in justice. What I don’t tolerate is lawyers interfering with that justice.’
‘Ah yes, we’re always the bad guys, aren’t we?’
‘Wherever you find human misery, you find lawyers, either causing it or making a profit from it.’
‘Please,’ Wendy Bose implored. ‘I asked Professor Truten to come here. I don’t know any lawyers on Augusta, and we don’t have much money. Dudley isn’t receiving any salary while he’s in regeneration.’
‘Dudley is a colleague,’ Truten said. ‘Surely having a witness and adviser can’t harm your investigation. He’s bound to ask for a lawyer anyway.’
‘I’m not investigating Dudley Bose,’ Paula said. ‘As far as I know, he’s not guilty of anything.’ She gave the lawyer a pointed look. ‘You obviously believe differently. Why is that?’
Wendy Bose gave Truten a questioning look.
‘I don’t understand,’ the lawyer said. ‘Dudley is only having two months’ rejuvenation treatment. That’s all the time he can afford before the starship leaves, and that’ll barely get him into a reasonable physical condition. This investigation must be incredibly important for you to have him pulled out of that. You might have cost him his place on the crew.’
‘Not a factor for me.’
‘What do you think he’s done?’ Wendy Bose asked.
There was desperation in her voice, but Paula knew that wasn’t all. Some of the worry was for herself.
‘Very well, but this investigation is confidential. You are not at liberty to discuss it without my express permission.’
‘I am aware of basic law,’ Truten trailed off under Paula’s gaze.
‘We believe that that attack on the Second Chance was made by a group called the Guardians of Selfhood. They are an obscure paramilitary political group based on Far Away who believe the Commonwealth is politically manipulated by an alien.’
‘I’ve heard of them,’ Truten said. ‘My e-butler has let their shotgun messages through its filters several times, unfort-unately.’
‘In order for them to see the Second Chance as a threat,’ Paula said, ‘they would need to establish a link between its construction and their alleged enemy alien. What I’m trying to do is uncover that link, or at least their belief in a link. As the whole mission started because of Professor Bose’s discovery, he was the logical place to begin.’
‘I hardly think this warrants yanking him out of the treatment.’
‘It didn’t,’ Paula said. ‘This kind of data analysis is a standard correlation for the Directorate RI. It came up with an unusual coincidence. I want to ask the professor about it. That’s all.’
‘What was the coincidence?’
‘The Cox Education charity account in the Denman Manhattan bank was subject to an attempted data hack some while ago, prior to the attack. The charity is one of the sponsors of your husband’s astronomy department. Obviously, the Guardians believed the charity was channelling money into the Dyson Pair observation project on behalf of the alien. We assume they were trying to find their “evidence” for this in the charity’s financial records. They weren’t successful in gaining access to the secure files, the bank’s smartware managed to lock them out. It wasn’t considered important at the time, the bank is subject to many such attacks, but the Trojan the hackers used to ride in on was based around Professor Bose’s codes.’ She watched with interest as the colour faded from Wendy Bose’s face. The woman reached out for Truten’s support. ‘Is there something you’d like to tell me?’
Truten nodded encouragingly. His grip on Wendy Bose’s arm tightened. There could have been a degree of affection in that grip, Paula decided.
‘He said to tell you something,’ Wendy Bose said. ‘I didn’t understand at the time.’
‘Your husband?’
‘No, the reporter. He said to tell her from me to stop concentrating on the details, it’s the big picture that counts.’
‘A reporter said that to you?’
‘Yes. To tell Paula when I see her, that’s what he said. I don’t know anyone called Paula. And we were talking about the astronomy department’s sponsors. He was interviewing me.’
‘When was this?’
‘Months ago. I think it was when my husband was awarded his professorship. There was a party afterwards, a lot of people. Most of the media wanted to talk to us.’
‘This reporter mentioned me by name? Me?’
‘Yes. Definitely.’
‘What was his name?’
‘I think it was Brad.’
Bradley, Paula mouthed. Surprise chilled her skin. For the first time ever, she knew what it must feel like to come off worse during an interview. To have your confidence kicked out from under you.
‘You know the gentleman?’ Truten asked mildly.
Paula ignored his gentle mockery. ‘I’ll need a description of this Brad person. Were there any other reporters recording the party?’
‘Probably. Yes. There’s something else.’
‘What?’
‘We left the party early. There’d been some kind of break-in at the house. Whoever did it copied all the memories in our household array.’ She brightened. ‘That would hold Dud-ley’s access codes for the Cox Educational charity bank account, wouldn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ Paula said softly.
‘So Dudley’s innocent, then, isn’t he? He can go on the starship.’
‘I’m not going to stop him.’ She didn’t comment on the way the loyal wife and the supportive colleague hugged each other.
*
Ozzie was rocked from side to side as the big awkward sledge jostled along over the frozen surface of the depression. The murky interior of the covered sledge was actually colder
than the inside of the tent, despite an iron brazier filled with glowing, hissing charcoal which had been carefully hung from the roof. Even so, Ozzie felt a lot more comfortable now they were under way. Orion also perked up considerably as the ride progressed, sitting on the long bench, his sleeping bag wrapped round him like a quilt.
The sledge framework was constructed mainly out of bone, great honey-brown ribs of it, cut and fitted together as if they were lengths of wood. Walls and ceiling, and the benches they were sitting on, were made from stiff black leather, which Ozzie could see had been poorly scraped. A strip of clear crystal in the front wall, which he presumed was a chunk from the local trees, provided the only window. It gave him a rough view out across the ice-locked ground, but mainly the swaying rumps of the two big ybnan which were pulling them. Bill, the big Korrok-hi, was standing on an open platform at the rear, steering them with a long set of reins. He was keeping their speed low so that the lontrus could keep up.
‘What is this Ice Citadel place?’ Ozzie asked.
‘I’m not sure what it was originally,’ Sara said. Now they were inside, her face mask hung on straps at the side of her hood. The brazier’s sombre light had turned her creased skin as dark as Ozzie’s. ‘Most of us think it was some kind of Silfen lodge. They still use it when they come to hunt the icewhales.’ She patted her fur coat. ‘That’s where all this comes from. I’ll need a new one soon, I’ve had this seven years now. It wears well if you take care of it.’
Ozzie glanced round the sledge again. ‘And the bone?’
‘Smart lad. Yes. In that respect they’re like the whales on old Earth, a valuable resource. We can use them for a lot of things. Once the Silfen have killed them and taken their trophy tusks, they don’t mind us utilizing the rest of it. A hunt is quite a sight. There’s the Silfen riding out like some royal medieval pageant, dressed up in all their winter finery. Then you get us lot hanging on behind, trying to keep up. After they kill an icewhale, we set up camp for a week to butcher and cook the damn thing. Most parts have a use here. Even the blood has a kind of alcohol in it to stop it freezing, not that you can drink it – and there’s been enough experimental stills over the years. Then there’s one gland in the male icewhale which some people dry then grind up. They say the powder puts the peck in your pecker, if you know what I mean.’
‘I think I get the idea.’
‘Some of the organs have medicinal properties, so our doctor claims, not just for us but other species at the Ice Citadel. And of course the meat is edible. That’s our basic diet.’ She puckered her lips up in disapproval, deepening the mass of wrinkles on her cheeks and forehead. ‘You have no idea how truly boring icewhale meat can get. Were you two riding horses?’
‘Up until like two days ago, yes.’
‘Humm. Horse steak. Now there’s a gourmet dish. If folks hear there are some horse bodies lying round out there for the taking, they might just put themselves in gear and get an expedition together. Two days away, you say?’
‘Roughly, yeah. Not that we walk very fast.’ Ozzie had eaten horse before, so the thought didn’t rankle too much. But he could see the boy turn his nose up in disgust.
‘That’s near the limit,’ Sara said. ‘It would be a risk. But there’s some who’ll take it just for the chance of tasting something different.’
‘What sort of risk? You seem well equipped for this planet.’
‘It’s not equipment, lad, it’s location. The Silfen paths aren’t stable, you know. Once you start going deep into the forests, there’s no telling where you might wind up.’
‘You mean like there’s no dependable way to get out of here?’
‘There’s a million ways out by all accounts. And then again, there’s another million ways to stay. I’ve seen them sometimes, with my own eyes. Friends who can’t take the Ice Citadel any more. They set off into the forest, looking for somewhere better. Years go by, and you think they must have made it, must be safe. Then an expedition will come across their body, all stiff and black.’
Orion pulled the sleeping bag tighter around him, fighting the way his chin was quivering.
Ozzie gave the woman a look, but she didn’t seem perturbed. ‘If there’s a way in, there’s a way out,’ he said.
‘Sure there is. What I’m telling you is, nobody here knows one. Anybody who does leave permanently, doesn’t come back. At least, I’ve never seen one return.’
‘How long have you been here?’ Orion asked.
‘I’m not sure. Some of the places I’ve visited might not have had the same kind of time as others. They were different. Don’t ask me how. You only realize once you’ve left. When you try and remember, every moment you spent there was like a dream. Then there’s the paths, time flows along them as well. You probably realized that, the climates merge very gently, to do that they have to match seasons.’
‘But how long?’ Orion persisted.
The old woman smiled, showing copper-coloured teeth. ‘Put it this way, I walked off Earth in 2009.’
Orion let out a gasp of surprise. ‘No way!’
‘Oh yes. I was holidaying in Tuscany. I still liked doing that, walking through the countryside, visiting the towns, sampling the food. There were enough areas of it that the developers never got around to ruining which made it worth-while. One day I packed my backpack and hiked off into the forest. That was it. I’ve been out here ever since. I never really wanted to go back. I mean . . . What’s the point?’
‘Interesting,’ Ozzie said. It was fascinating to know the Silfen paths had led to Earth in those days, but somehow not surprising. ‘That would make you about four hundred years old. They didn’t have rejuvenation on Earth back then, not even in Europe.’
‘I’ve never been rejuvenated. I told you, time runs differently along the paths.’
‘But you just said you don’t walk the paths any more.’
‘I’m here, though, and I encounter the Silfen most years.’ She shrugged. ‘This isn’t something you rationalize and order, Ozzie. Everything that is here, simply happens. Don’t try to assign reason to what you experience.’
‘Right.’
‘Please?’ Orion said. ‘Do you know if my mom and dad are here?’
‘What are their names?’
‘Maurice and Catanya.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, Orion, there’s nobody here with those names. And I can’t recall a couple passing through, either.’
The boy hung his head.
‘Not every path from Silvergalde leads here, you know,’ she said. ‘They could be anywhere. Some nice tropical island, perhaps.’
‘Yeah. Whatever.’
She looked at Ozzie, who gave her a don’t-ask-me shrug.
The Ice Citadel gradually grew larger in front of them. It was difficult for Ozzie to see clearly through the grubby, ice-crusted crystal window, but the basic pyramid shape soon became apparent. From base to tip it was about seventy yards high. But it was difficult to see against the barren off-white background. Every surface had been covered in crystal, great lengths of the quartz trees arranged into hexagonal arrays. They were packed together in a perfect honeycomb, giving no clue as to what material was underneath. A smooth cylindrical pillar of crystal rose from the centre of each hexagon, topped by a large multifaceted stone that swelled out almost organically. Ozzie frowned at the assembly, trying to understand its purpose. The long segments which made up the hexagons were angled in series against each other, forming tiers. Little prismatic sparkles of light danced off the sheer surfaces. They were like . . . ‘Mirrors,’ he muttered to himself. Very crude concave mirrors focusing sunlight on the central stalk. Or maybe not so crude, he decided, it would take a real artisan to get the angles just right.
The top of the pyramid was a small rounded pinnacle. As he watched, the beam of green light shone out of it, sweeping round.
‘You can see it right over the other side of the crater,’ Sara said. ‘There’s been many a night it’s guided me home.’
‘Worked that out, huh? Shouldn’t surprise me, a techie like you. The mirrors mostly scoop up light for the rooms inside. But, yeah, the top row are exclusively for the lighthouse system. They pour sunlight into some kind of light battery. Please don’t ask me how it works, it looks like a big ball of stone to me. There’s always some idiot science type wanting to take it apart. We don’t let them, of course.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll spare you that.’
‘Good. We have been known to run some people out of town. And as far as we know, there isn’t another town on the whole damn planet.’
‘Always good to know.’
The sledge came slowly to a halt at the base of the pyramid. Ozzie and Orion pulled their gloves on again, covered their faces, and stepped out carrying their packs. Another couple of the Korrok-hi were warbling mournfully to Bill as they started to unharness the big ybnan that had pulled the sledge. Some humans (or human shapes) had come over, dressed in the same bulbous fur coats as Sara wore. There were other aliens as well, a small gnomish creature with five limbs and two things like snakes with legs, all wearing coats of icewhale fur. Ozzie stopped to study them, he’d never seen their kind before. He began to wonder just how far into the galaxy the Silfen paths ran.
‘This way,’ Sara beckoned. ‘Iusha will stable your lontrus for you.’ There were a number of archways of various sizes along the base of the pyramid, from trapdoor height up to an opening wide enough to take two sledges at once. There was a lot of activity around them, with animals (again types he’d never seen) and aliens coming in and out. Several sledges were being prepared, three of them smaller than the one Sara used, resembling racing toboggans.
She led them through one of the archways into an ante-chamber with plain black marble walls. At the far end was a big revolving door made from bone, with thin crystal window panes. ‘It’s like a heat-lock,’ she said as she pushed one of the panels and set the doors moving.
Beyond that was a wide corridor walled with the same marble. Long panels of quartz were set into the ceiling, with pink sunlight pouring out of them. Ozzie stood underneath one and squinted into the glare, but there was nothing to see.
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