“I would very much like to know how your president obtained this data.”
“It’s the president’s jurisdiction, so he has every right to have knowledge of this. I am afraid that this revelation will be a great danger to the relationship, especially in the light of what has happened. Already, people are saying that Asto killed the president because he was about to make this plan public. If it’s not genuine then Nations of Earth is going to want some very strong apologies, before relationships can deteriorate further.” All right, I was angry now.
Delegate Akhtari snorted. “If I may be so impolite, Ezhya, but I fully support the Delegate’s outrage. This . . .” She gestured at the screen. “. . . is a gross violation of gamra law.”
“Which is probably why Mizha didn’t judge it worth the risk.” I wondered how the man stayed completely calm.
My heart still beating furiously, I said, “Just to be clear: the plan is dead.”
“Yes. It was never approved by the First Circle administrators.”
Never revived either? Asto always had overcrowding issues. They didn’t produce enough food for their own population. This was a sophisticated design, with a lot of detail. Did I believe him?
I glanced at Delegate Akhtari. Did she believe him? I thought not.
There was a brief moment of silence, in which Thayu fiddled with some of her equipment. She glanced at the screen of her comm unit. Her eyes widened, but then she tucked the unit away.
“That still leaves the question: what is this material doing in the president’s hands?” Ezhya Palayi was looking uncomfortably at me while he said this and I was resisting the urge to return his gaze and tell him he’d better answer that himself. No, I didn’t believe him either. I knew that much of Asto’s government structure. First Circle administrators didn’t have the authority to make decisions as big as this. They only had the power to make decisions when delegated by the Inner Circle and, most likely, vetted by the power at the very top. I hadn’t missed the bank of readers with the Asto command key in the corner of the room. This man looked in on every decision made in his name. This man was not a good-natured leader. By Earth definitions, he was an absolute dictator.
Ravaged by hunger and poverty, Saharan countries might well have sold large areas of land to Asto. There might well be an underground population of Coldi operating in Africa. The Coldi might well own the land, never mind that they hadn’t yet built anything on it.
Then, to my surprise, Ezhya Palayi said, “Joyelin, I would appreciate if I could have a private word with the Delegate.”
Delegate Akhtari raised one thin eyebrow, but rose and left the room, taking two black-clad guards with her.
As soon as she had left, Ezhya Palayi snapped his fingers at the guard at the door, who went to the other side of the room, opened a cupboard, and reached inside. Rows of lights winked off. Turning off the recording equipment. Thayu watched with hungry eyes.
Ezhya Palayi of course owned this apartment and could turn off the listening equipment whenever he pleased. If I turned off any of my listening devices, I bet I would have someone bashing down my door within half an hour, if not sooner.
Even the guards left.
Thayu did not. I met her eyes briefly; they blazed with anger. I mouthed what? Anger and irritation simmered just under the surface. My shirt clung to me with sweat, and my head swam with dizziness. The heat was worse than midday in the sun at Taurus, but I would not give in.
A yellow-skinned hand reached out, hot even in this searing temperature, and touched my chin, pushing it up until my eyes met Ezhya’s. The irises glimmered with golden spots. I tried not to feel belittled by this gesture. To be allowed to face him was a victory in Coldi eyes, but, damn it, I was too hot to think rationally, and I was not a toddler and found it very hard not to feel treated as one at this moment.
A minute passed during which we just looked into each other’s eyes. My heart thudded like crazy. This was the moment of danger. Was he going to react to me? If he did, I only had Thayu to protect me, and I wasn’t sure that she wouldn’t support him over me.
He blinked. Stiffened. Blinked again.
And settled back on the couch.
I let out a breath. Whatever his instinct had decided about me, I was not deemed to be a direct threat.
He said, “I am strongly aware that Asto is being blamed for the death of the president, especially in light of this information you have just shown me.”
I fought to concentrate. “It is true. My president demands an explanation.”
“So do we. Tell me this: if we wanted to kill the president, would we have left the building standing?”
Was that a threat or an admission?
“Oh, do not think that we haven’t considered sending the military. The military is still on standby. We sent your president a writ. It would be good to know whether he intends to reply.”
“A writ? For what purpose?” This was going in an entirely unexpected direction. Surely accusing Asto wasn’t an offence that justified a legal action as severe as a writ? They mostly covered property matters, and crime. If anything, if there was enough evidence, Asto would have expected a writ from Nations of Earth asking for explanation. A writ which would have included evidence for Nations of Earth’s position.
This was . . . unexpected.
He continued, his voice more measured. “I commissioned some work to be done by a leading scientist. We paid for her time, her expertise. Secrecy was important, because we did not want to raise panic within our own population. She promised us this secrecy, for a handsome payment, and as far as we can ascertain, she did the work. The next thing we knew, your president was talking about the results. We then contacted the scientist, who said that she had been pressured into giving the information to the president, and that she had no choice or harm would come to her.”
Shit. Elsi Schumacher. This was getting more complicated by the day. “What sort of work? I’m guessing it was a climate assessment?”
“It was indeed.”
“For what purpose?”
“There have been some disturbing changes in our climate recently. The people of Asto are nervous and want to understand what is happening. Nothing of this scale has happened before, and on your world it has. I wanted predictions and models so that we can allay people’s fears and plan for the future. It seems that some are already panicking.”
“Like planning settlements on Earth.”
“That is a totally false allegation.” His voice was now downright angry. “The plans pre-date this information by many years, which is probably why the person who wanted your president to draw that conclusion removed the date.”
I didn’t allow myself to be intimidated, even though I was now so hot I thought I’d faint. I wasn’t sure whether to believe him; I couldn’t think properly. “Do you realise that the scientist who did the work has also been killed?”
“I do. It seems that she has disappeared with her work, and that even a writ to return the material for which we have paid—which expired yesterday and is awaiting my instructions—has not produced results.”
I realised the value of what I had in my apartment: Sirkonen’s datastick, that I needed to fix. “My president does not understand the nature of Asto writs.”
“He should. It was explained.”
For all the great impression that would make. I could imagine the uproar in the corridors of Nations of Earth. And they bully us into giving this to them? Unfortunately, posturing was part of Asto’s tactics. Pomp and ceremony, and frightening shows of numbers. They were like peacocks, but Nations of Earth might well misinterpret their bluff for real aggression, and therein was real danger of the type that involved military aircraft and weapons.
I said, “This material is of that much importance to Asto? To risk armed conflict?”
His eyes met mine squarely. “Listen to me, Delegate. Conflict will follow for those who choose to mess with us.”
Ezhya Palayi rose from the
couch, indicating that the interview was over. “The material is ours, and we paid for it. The scientist had no business giving it to someone else, least of all to the president. That it might have been a factor in his death is unfortunate, but has nothing to do with us. I want you to go back there, Delegate, and let your president know that I want the material or there will be consequences.”
I rose, too, and bowed. “With all respect, even if I go, I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to retrieve anything. It is part of an investigation of justice.” A process Asto wouldn’t understand.
He stiffened. “Get me that material and we’ll talk. I’ll be happy to provide you with protection.”
“Armed personnel, you mean, your guards.” With all the wrong pronouns. Oh, I was overstepping my boundaries; I knew that, somewhere in between being terminally hot and damned annoyed with his posturing. For all I knew, he had been intending to build this settlement in the Sahara.
He stepped so close I could feel his heat. He was about my height, tall for Coldi, and his eyes were extraordinarily gold-flecked. There was another moment of intense silence, of sizing me up. Too late perhaps, I realised that he had never fully relaxed after that initial eye contact.
From the corner of my eye, I spotted silver-and-maroon figures entering the room: his guards were back.
“You, Delegate, are impertinent.” And that was a very rare form of you that only Coldi of high rank could use.
If he thought it intimidated me, however, he was wrong. I no longer cared. “If you want to deal with my entity in peace, you better get used to that.”
I didn’t realise how much I trembled until I stood on the gallery outside, where even the sultry Barresh breeze felt like a blizzard on my skin.
I raked a hand through my hair. A large strand came undone from my ponytail. It was damp with sweat.
I swore, loudly.
“He does that on purpose, to intimidate people,” Thayu said, after a while. Her voice was soft.
“Well I’m not going to be intimidated. I swear I’ll get to the bottom of this, I’ll—”
“We, not you.” Inclusive, intimate we.
I stared at her.
“Don’t forget what you said a few days ago: we are in the same shit together. How about you let me in on what’s going on?” The anger shimmered through the restraint in her voice.
I grabbed the balcony railing with sweaty hands. Please, I have no time for this now. Down on the ground floor of the building, a woman in a red robe led a group of girls across the hall. “They have school visits here?”
“You’re changing the subject. You’ve been changing the subject on me all day.” Accusing-you.
“No, I haven’t—”
“You haven’t? Then what about that damaged datastick you have? You try to fix it? You couldn’t even find the right flap to load recharges for your reader. You don’t want me to see it, that’s all there is to it.”
I opened my mouth, but she kept going, “No, don’t try to deny it. You remember what my position is? I’m your zhayma. I’m supposed to help you, but all you do is cut me out, block your feeder access, and now you’re not even wearing it anymore. Do you think I can work with that?” All accusatory pronouns.
“Thayu, please—”
“No. I think it’s time we had a good talk. Come.” She took my arm in a vicelike grip. Then she gestured to Evi and Telaris, who had waited at a distance. “Mashara.”
I stumbled along with her, too sick to care where she took me, too sick to fight.
After a blur of corridors, courtyards and stairwells, we arrived in a part of the complex where I had never been. Here, the thoroughfares narrowed and the walls on both sides blocked out light, especially because plants spilled over every inch of gallery railing on all four floors above us, filtering light to a muted green. The air was heavy with humidity.
Thayu led me into an elaborate arched entrance which gave access to a cool hall, where our footsteps echoed against a ceiling I couldn’t see in the sudden gloom. Light streamed in through an open door on the other side. I caught glimpses of lush greenery.
Thayu fished in one of her many pockets, produced her account card and went up to a counter in the hall with the words, “Just for two.”
The woman behind the counter took her card.
By now, I felt dizzy.
Evi and Telaris stationed themselves in the shady archway. A man in a green shirt led us into a courtyard in which grew a veritable rainforest. Flowering bushes and mossy trunks. Steaming water in lush dark pools. People sat in the water, sipping drinks. In a basin in the corner a young man rinsed a middle-aged woman’s hair. The lower half of her body hidden in water, her ample breasts just tickled the surface. The attendant gestured at a pool surrounded by flowering bushes too low to completely hide the occupants from the rest of the courtyard.
“Thank you,” Thayu said, and to me, “Come.”
I stopped dead. “Oh no. Oh no, I’m not going in there.”
“Yes, you are. You suffer from heat stroke, and you have some sort of problem. I am your zhayma, and although you seem to have forgotten that I am here to help you, I will, whether you want it or not. So you are going to take off your clothes, get in the water and then you’re going to tell me what’s going on.”
“No, you tell me what’s going on. You work for Asto. You have some sort of loyalty to Ezhya Palayi. Just in case you hadn’t noticed back there, he’s knee-deep in this little tangle.” All my pronouns were of the accusatory form. I was reeling, not thinking clearly. I had never used accusatory pronouns when talking to Nicha.
“Yes, I’ve noticed. I’m also guessing that he’s probably after that datastick you didn’t want to give me.”
“Too right I didn’t. You’re a spy, aren’t you?”
She planted her hands at her sides, glaring at me.
“Trained by the Intelligence division of the First Circle Elite, if you have to know.”
Holy fucking shit. The best spying organisation on Asto, maybe the best there was in the known universe. “Then why didn’t you just tell your big boss about the datastick back in that room?”
“Because my contract is with gamra. Because Delegate Akhtari appointed me to work with you, and that’s what I’ll do, no matter how stupidly you behave!”
“I don’t behave stupidly!”
The people in the next pool had stopped talking and turned to us.
She lowered her voice and grabbed my arm. “You don’t? Then why do you distrust me so? Because I belong to the side you love to accuse of invasion? You know nothing about us. You have no idea how to behave. You know nothing about imayu.”
Her eyes blazed. She was so much like, no she was, Inaru. Fire and passion. Burning anger.
“I don’t accuse Asto of invasion. And I know about shared loyalties, and imayu.” Yet, I had ignored this aspect. She had sworn loyalty to gamra and those types of loyalties were not easily violated. Those bonds were almost pathological and part of the Coldi biological make-up. I should trust her not to do anything that would harm me, even if she did report to this man I didn’t trust as far as I could throw him. Because that was how Coldi society worked. Tangled webs. Everyone was connected to everyone else.
“What then? All you’ve done is keep me away. Just listen and translate, I’ll fix it myself, I want to bathe by myself, that’s all you do. By yourself. And get into the water. People are staring at us.”
“Fine!”
What the fuck did I know anyway? I was failing, coming apart at the seams, pretending to know what I was doing, but I knew nothing. In critical moments, I understood nothing of these people’s behaviour. Any of my attempts to pretend otherwise were a farce.
I turned to face the bushes and tried to peel off my sweaty shirt, but my hands trembled so much I couldn’t negotiate the fiddly hooks of the fastening.
She mumbled, “I don’t know how Nicha put up with this.”
“Keep Nicha out of it.”
/> “I’ll talk about whatever I want. Did you treat Nicha like this, too?”
“No, if you really have to know. Nicha is . . .” a man.
I let my shoulders sag, because that was ultimately where the problem lay.
“Nicha is what? Is he better than me?”
“Stop twisting everything. Just shut up!”
I flung my shirt down. It flew past a branch with obscene pink dangling flowers. I felt like ripping the bushes out of the ground, like flinging dirt all over this lovely courtyard. Damn Ezhya Palayi and his brand of intimidation. Damn Thayu. Damn everything.
The next thing a warm hand touched my shoulder. Her breath tickled my skin.
“Hey, calm down, you.” That was a very intimate you.
I repressed the insane urge to turn around and fling myself into her arms. Nicha would have touched me; Nicha would have offered comfort. Nicha could offer comfort.
Her hand moved over my shoulder, massaging muscles that ached with tenseness.
“Come into the water, seriously. Let’s stop this silly fight. You’re not well.”
I stepped away, out of her warm reach, and slipped into the water, trying not to look at her. But while I was trying so hard, of course I saw everything. Her soft, completely hair-less body, her round breasts with black nipples. Muscles moved under the skin of her shoulders while she settled on the bench. I took deep breaths to dispel the roaring of blood in my ears.
Face the problem head-on.
“Thayu, this is the first problem you must understand. In my world, if you’re contracted to a woman, it’s not right to be convenient to another.”
“Touching is convenient?”
“It is. So is sharing one’s thoughts.” Of course, they weren’t just thoughts, not for me. Neither was Thayu just another woman. Neither could I tell her how I had doubted her professionally and shouldn’t have.
“Oh.” A moment’s silence. “I’m sorry. You must care a lot about her.”
I shrugged, not meeting her eyes. I had thought far too little about Eva lately.
The silence lingered. Water rippled as she splashed it on her face, and glistened in diamond drops on soft shoulders. A young girl brought drinks, condensation pearling on the outside of the glass. I sipped, breathed out tension. The juice made a wonderful cold spot in my belly.
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