No, there was no point in going back to bed. I went into the bathroom and decided to have my daily tussle with the razor now, before anyone else was up. I’d had to give up on the soap—it was too painful, but now the razor was getting blunt. It was only a gadget for travelling light, a flip-out, lightweight thing. Very soon this issue was going to come to a head. Growing a beard was not going to be acceptable, so I’d have to find another solution.
In the dark, I went to my little nook in the sitting room and sat down, lit only by the glow from my reader. But the text of my speech bored me; I knew it by heart. I leaned my chin in my hands, marvelling that my palms no longer hurt, and sat staring out the window, seeing myself go into the large hall, seeing the faces of all the delegates—
Deep red light flashed through the sky, silhouetting the trees whose branches just poked up over the balcony railing.
What the fuck?
Heart thudding, I rose and slid open the door to the balcony. A breeze heavy with the scent of flowers carried the faint sound of a wailing siren.
14
I STARED INTO the dark, heart thudding.
The red circle of light, the attack on Sirkonen.
I expected shouting, panic elsewhere in the building. I expected Thayu to get up, or the guards to come and check on me.
None of that happened.
I strode into the hall—and almost crashed into Eirani carrying a tray with tea and bread.
“Delegate!” Eyes widened.
“Sorry, Eirani. I didn’t see you—did you . . . did you see anything outside?”
She frowned. “Outside? I was in the kitchen, Delegate. The laundry delivery came in.” She nodded at the tray. On it lay Sirkonen’s datastick.
Thank the heavens.
“You haven’t heard that something has happened in town?”
“Nothing has happened, Delegate.”
“No one saw anything?”
Her frown deepened. She set the tray on the table. “No. What were we meant to see?” That was an accusatory-we; she was annoyed.
I began, “There was a . . .” And stopped. The light was red. Coldi had no word for red. They couldn’t see it; neither could Eirani. “Never mind.”
Eirani had started offloading the contents of the tray onto the table. “Eat, Delegate, and I will see if the lady is awake.”
She left the room and I sat down at the table, forcing myself to concentrate. Never mind what had happened. I’d try to find out later. My speech was more important now.
I was halfway through the last slice of bread when Eirani rushed in again, carrying some garment over her arm. She hung it over a chair and produced a comb from her pocket. “Doing your hair, Delegate.”
She put up the collar of my shirt, and undid the clip in my hair. With a few swift strokes, she pulled it back into a ponytail, flattening the recalcitrant curls with gel. She then produced a small box and opened it on the table. Two stones glittered inside, white opals, on golden hooks. “I picked these up from the jeweller’s yesterday.”
I took the hoops out of my ears and let her put the new earrings in. When I shook my head, the stones dangled against my earlobes.
Eirani brushed the hair off my shoulders and held out the jacket.
I opened my mouth to protest—I’d boil in all those layers of clothing, but she would have none of it. “The Delegate must absolutely wear this. The first impression is important.”
No choice about it. For all her grumpiness, Eirani did have an eye for looks. I rose from the chair and studied myself in the reflection of the glass. The stones reflected the light and glittered when I moved my head. White opal, for peace.
I wondered what Eva would say if she saw me now. Who is that stranger?
I took Sirkonen’s datastick off the tray and slipped it in my pocket. At least that had been recovered. I’d have a good look at it when I came back, hopefully—I took a deep nervous breath—with good results.
“Delegate?”
Thayu came in.
She wore, of all things, a dress, a dark blue, shimmering garment that exposed her shoulders and yellow-skinned neck, luscious soft skin. Her hair was up in a bun and a glittering stone hid in the hollow between her breasts.
“You look . . . different.” Different? She was gorgeous. Strong, athletic, vibrant, everything a Coldi woman should be.
She inclined her head. Gold paint glimmered around her eyes. “You look different, too.” Her earrings—with blood-red stones, the Domiri colour—dangled against the soft skin under her ears. Both earrings were the same—in Coldi society a sign that she was single and available. Her gaze lingered on my earrings.
I cleared my throat, hoping she wouldn’t see the redness of my cheeks. “You’re ready to go?” Friendly pronouns again.
“Take this, Delegate.”
She held something out to me, in the palm of her hand, something looking like a large and purple daddy longlegs.
A feeder.
“Whose is it?” Not mine; the one I had lost had been cornstalk-blond, like my hair.
“I borrowed it, and set it up last night. Take it, Delegate.” She raised it to my shoulder.
Damn, no. I put my hand on her arm.
She froze and met my eyes. A tiny frown crossed her face. “Anything the matter, Delegate?”
“I told you to call me Cory.” Please, stop confusing me.
“Take it,” she said again. “We need it and we don’t want to be late.”
I couldn’t refuse it. I dipped my head and stood still while she eased my hair apart with her warmer-than-normal fingers. My heart thudded like crazy.
Eirani muttered about upsetting my ponytail.
“There.” The device’s legs reacted to the proximity of my skin and latched onto my hair as the semi-sentient material was designed to do. Its “body” settled on my skin with a burst of heat. The infused patch in my brain fired. Connections lined up with long-forgotten threads. Contact.
The stream of thought-noise overwhelmed me. Images, sounds, light, memories all assaulted me at the same time. Information overload.
I raised my hand to my head, half-muttering, eshi, retreat, back off, another word that was hard to translate.
The reception range contracted and focused. Familiar sensations crawled through me. The warmth, sharing, the mental intimacy. I met Thayu’s eyes, focused and saw myself as she saw me: a bit taller than her, but scrawny and, in the artificial light, incredibly pale. She felt concerned about me, and worried and amused at my impression of her.
What’s a “cat”?
It’s an . . . animal.
I look like an animal?
Not look like, remind me of one.
Is that good or bad?
But she didn’t need a direct answer. There was no hiding the truth. A warm glow hit my brain as her response. Flattered. Much too close, too much intimacy.
I damn well knew I wasn’t going to keep this blasted thing on for one moment longer than absolutely necessary. Of course, she could follow that thought as well.
I embarrass you?
Just forget it, right?
She retreated at that, shocked, scared, and I knew I had no right to be harsh. But damn it, damn it. I had cried over Inaru this morning. I was not going to start any of this cross-species emotional closeness again.
“Let’s go.”
Much better to speak aloud, much better.
I thanked Eirani with a nod and went into the hall. Neither woman looked at the other, but I sensed they had reached a truce. Thayu protecting me, and Eirani a part of Renkati’s staff.
See, the feeder is good for something.
I just felt sick, avoiding her eyes. By now, she would know everything.
Devin waited in the hall, as well as a young woman from the office whose name had escaped me. They greeted me with polite bows, each dressed in demure khaki with blue pinstripes. Devin carried the reader he had been using in the communication room, and the young woman’s belt bri
stled with listening equipment. She stepped forward and attached a tiny cylinder to the collar of my jacket. A microphone, no bigger than a pin. Whatever happened, whichever way the vote went, it was sure to be recorded for posterity.
Meanwhile, Thayu had opened the front door and we all went out. Evi and Telaris already waited there, one on either side of the door. Both had changed into formal attire: blue shirts and black trousers. They displayed no guns or other weapons, but both men carried an entire shop of electronics strapped to their belts, arms and legs. Various readers, listening and recording equipment and goodness knew what else. Weapons would feature in there somewhere.
I gestured. “Mashara, lead the way.”
No one said a thing as we made our way down the gallery to the stairs, down to ground level. We went past the uniform fitter’s shop, closed at this time of the day, and out the arched entrance into a courtyard. Faint blue light silvered the trees and abandoned chairs and tables on terraces. Water burbled lazily in a fountain.
I remembered the red flash and increased my stride to meet up with Evi. “Mashara, did anything happen in the city overnight?”
A sharp look. “The Delegate should be assured that safety is not a concern here.”
“That’s not what I mean, mashara. Last night I couldn’t sleep, and while I was on the balcony, there was a flash of light and I heard an alarm go off.”
Comprehension dawned on his face. “There was a minor disturbance at the Exchange. Nothing to worry about.”
Did these men see literally everything in terms of my safety? “I’m not worried, just curious.”
“An approaching craft experienced a shift. There were no injuries.”
“Shift?”
“It’s a minor malfunction in the Exchange, causing an aircraft to jump a very small distance.”
And now they told me. I’d never liked this transfer business. Pick an aircraft up from one point in space and create a loop of antimatter through space to deposit it somewhere else. The process was supposed to be double and triple checked, but in that moment of nothingness, possibilities for accidents were endless and frightening. What if, through a silly mistake, you ended up somewhere in mid space, and could do nothing but keep flying until fuel and oxygen ran out?
And if the Exchange had something to do with it, why had there been that red flash . . . Later, my subconscious told me.
Thayu frowned at me. What is “red”?
I’ll explain later.
Evi led us across to the other side of the courtyard, where the entrance to the gamra building was black in deep shadow.
Other figures moved in the same direction, all dressed in blue, all different species. There were tall Damarcians, diminutive Kedrasi with copper hair and leopard-spotted skin, black Indrahui of whom only the whites of the eyes stood out. All walking two by two, each delegate with his or her zhayma. My escort drew silent looks and civilised frowns.
In the corridor that led into the main building, even more delegates joined the steady stream. Out of side passages, down stairs, they came and merged into the flow.
Ahead, two large doors stood open into the inner sanctum of gamra, signified by a carved arch which carried the symbols of the founding entities including the two-sun symbol for Asto. Directly above the door, in the middle of the arch, blazed the five-pointed star symbol of Barresh.
Under this work of art we passed into the entrance of the hall. Into the dimness, the golden light on the central floor, the vastness of the member stands which surrounded the central dais.
Evi and Telaris peeled off at the door. Thayu led me down the steps into the giant amphitheatre, past benches, past delegates carrying readers, holding up traffic in the aisle by talking to each other. Thousands of delegates were getting to their seats, streaming down the stairs and to both sides.
“Delegate Cory Wilson.”
I stopped and turned. A man was behind me, his flowing cloak billowing over his shoulders while he made his way down. Marin Federza, in all-blues. He bowed politely. Delegates in benches on either side of the aisle looked up. One elbowed his neighbour, whispered something and then they both stared.
Marin Federza drew closer, enveloping me in a cloud of musk-scented air.
“About your request for paid work—I have spoken to the appropriate persons at the Trader Guild and the Ledger.” He spoke Isla.
“Thank you for doing that.” My hopes rose.
“They said they weren’t looking to appoint a liaison contact at the moment.”
Oh. I shrugged. It was always worth asking. “Maybe in the future?” However long I could hold out without payment.
“Maybe, but I did speak to a few others, and there is someone who might want to discuss the possibility of paid work with you. Could I send them your details?”
“Is this within the Trader Guild?”
“My contact is not a Trader, but I’ve had dealings with him.”
“What sort of work?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t tell me.”
This was all suitably vague enough for the contact to be Renkati.
I glanced around to find Thayu, who was wrestling her way back up the stairs, as she seemed to have missed the fact that I had stopped.
“All right, send him the information.”
“Thank you.”
With a polite bow, he turned on his heel and strode down the stairs, towards Thayu. She hesitated, but said nothing. Via the feeder, and her eyes, I spotted a twitch of dislike across Marin Federza’s face as he met her. Her feeling matched it.
You know him well? I asked.
He’s always too keen to please. She closed the distance between us and continued in normal speech, “Did he say he has work for you?”
“He said he might know someone who has work for me.”
“The Trader Guild?”
“No. He is going to pass on my details.”
“Oh.” She didn’t sound convinced, and I didn’t want to discuss the issue, and didn’t want to explain why I was doing this. My speech should be my first priority now.
We continued down the stairs in silence.
About two-thirds into the hall, Thayu led me into an aisle to the left, along a gallery where delegates and their support staff sat in boxed-off compartments, flanked by partitions high enough to shelter the occupants from view when seated. Thayu opened the door to one such compartment. “This is our box.”
Again, this was an unexpected privilege. Most delegates sat in the gallery on benches.
This particular box had three rows of seats.
Thayu made for the desk at the front with sound equipment and screens. My place was in the middle of the box, directly behind Thayu, where a desk light threw a pool of light on the smooth surface of a table.
I sat down, put my reader on the table and slipped on the earpiece that lay on the desk. The holo-screen flickered into life, displaying the gamra logo. Devin and the female assistant settled in the benches behind me.
I flicked through the meeting timetable. My speech was the second item on the agenda.
Thayu leaned back in the chair, gazing lazily over the lower benches and the central floor, where a spotlight cast Chief Delegate Akhtari’s empty table in bright light.
All around, delegates were walking to their seats, talking with each other, silhouettes in the dark—
A muffled shout. A group of about six or seven people had emerged from the entrance under the galleries, the door that gave direct access to the centre of the hall and Delegate Akhtari’s chair. Since not all the lights were on yet, they were no more than dark shapes, now going up the stairs.
I glanced at Thayu; she returned my look with a frown, fiddling with something on her belt. Her frown deepened.
What is it?
“Ezhya Palayi has just arrived.”
What? Asto’s Chief Coordinator was somewhere in that group of dark figures that was now settling in one of the delegates’ boxes halfway across the hall? I remembered
Chief Delegate Akhtari’s voice, important prime delegates will be in attendance.
“What is he doing here?” But I already knew the answer: to hear my reply to his ultimatum, delivered to me by Delegate Ayanu.
Thayu answered, Indeed.
15
THERE WERE REASONS gamra manners stood stiff with formality. Preventing ugly cockfights was one of them. That didn’t mean they didn’t happen, though, especially when Coldi were involved. Asto was notorious for its disregard of the conventions, and I was sure that plenty of rules of behaviour were going to be disregarded today.
I stared across the hall, clenching my jaws. I don’t care who he is. I won’t let myself be bullied under the table.
Thayu glanced over her shoulder; she had heard that thought, of course.
Don’t. He’ll destroy you. I’m serious. The statement brimmed with emotion.
I met her eyes squarely. Let him try.
She turned completely in her seat and stared at me, mouth open. I could feel her confusion. I was taking on her supreme leader to whom she had sworn loyalty, and was closer in hierarchy than I realised. Much closer. Something about her son’s father, who was a close advisor to Ezhya Palayi, but she clamped down on those thoughts before I could fully comprehend them.
Thayu, is there anything I should know?
The deep boom of the gong reverberated through the hall. People rose. Additional lights flicked on in the ceiling.
Thayu turned back to facing the middle of the hall. I could almost feel her heart racing.
Thayu?
Her thoughts came through strongly. I support you, and Nicha. Very fierce.
It seemed I wasn’t the only one to have secrets.
The door in the centre of the hall clanged open once more. Two guards marched out and to the sides, lining up and bowing when Delegate Akhtari entered the hall. The ceiling light glittered off the gold embroidery on the hems of her robe. White hair flowed over her shoulders, a fine gossamer curtain that belied the harshness of the woman underneath.
Rogue Stars Page 176