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Planetary Parlay

Page 16

by Cameron Cooper


  “Yes, that is also true,” Slate said, his tone agreeable.

  “There is something else going on with him, then?” I asked. Slate wouldn’t disagree with me. Not directly, not unless I dug it out of him.

  “I meant, Danny, that of all the Assembly members, Constantine argued most strongly that the Muradar should not meet with the Carinads at all. He campaigned publicly, opposing the majority opinion in the Assembly that a way must be found to deal with Carinad peoples.”

  “Why does he believe that is a bad idea?”

  “The Constantine believes that by allowing you to visit here, you would learn too much about Terrans.”

  “Isn’t learning about each other one of the points of these negotiations?”

  “Yes, but The Constantine believes you will learn things that the Terrans do not want you to learn.”

  “Military strength and weaknesses,” I murmured. “Flaws and vulnerabilities. That sort of thing.”

  “Yes, Danny.”

  “Well, he’s not wrong,” I pointed out. “But we’re also revealing those things to you Terrans, too. Just by being here,” I added, with a touch of frustration.

  Slate twisted back and forth, a tiny movement that wouldn’t draw attention to itself, except to me, standing beside him.

  “What, now?” I asked.

  “You said ‘you Terrans’ with such…hatred, Danny.”

  I sighed. “I can’t help it, Slate. The more I learn about Terrans—even just the ordinary, everyday facts—the more I despise their attitudes and their…their approach to life.”

  “But are you not looking for a means to reach détente?” Slate replied.

  “Yeah, we are.” I didn’t say any more aloud, but the little exchange had filled me with dismal pessimism. This morning we seemed even further divided.

  Constantine finished whispering and turned back to the table. “We believe we may have devised a compromise on the matter of the Drigu you would like to take from us.”

  “Is that so?” Jai replied. “I’m listening.”

  Isuma beamed at the five Carinads at the table. “It is really very simple,” she said. “For every Drigu you covet, you provide a replacement.”

  Silence.

  I felt my gorge rising. We weren’t just divided. We were drawing apart at light speed.

  “But that is not a compromise, Secretary,” Jai returned and I was astonished at the calmness of his voice. “We Carinads would be no better off after such an exchange than if it had not taken place at all.” He laid his hand on the table, out toward them, in a manner that was a little too close to pleading than I felt comfortable with. “We have a difference of values here that is bogging this discussion down. May I propose that we deal with those differences, first, then come back to the negotiation point after that and see if we cannot find a compromise?”

  The three Terrans at the table glanced at each other.

  “We could try,” Isuma Florina replied. “Although we do not understand what the difference of viewpoint is that you refer to.”

  “That is precisely the point, Secretary,” Jai shot back.

  From outside the hall, I heard something explode with the characteristic whumping sound that the Terran military-grade fireballs made.

  I was running before the sound died away and hit the hall doors with a rigid arm, already at a sprint.

  —22—

  I saw a plume of smoke directly ahead of the palace, in among the trees on the other side of the open ground and came to a halt at the very edge of the floorboards, trying to take in all the details in one sweeping glance.

  Then another of the Terran fireballs lobbed above the level of the trees, glowing white and blue and flickering red at the edges, before it dropped down below the tree level. The whumping shockwave arrived instantly, but it was muted.

  I could see Terran soldiers in their dark blue armor running through the trees in a controlled jog, their weapons up. They were eerily silent, because they would be communicating via their helmets.

  Small arms fire sounded.

  “We are quite safe here,” Isuma Florina said, her voice lifting. I glanced around me. Most of the people in the hall had rushed out here, too, and were spreading out along the edge of the floor to see for themselves. “The Patriami will not allow anything to reach us.”

  I looked up at Slate. “What is Patriami?” I murmured.

  “There is no direct equivalent.”

  “Indirect, then.”

  “Domestic police force. Private security, owned by a family corporation. I believe that is the nearest analogy.”

  “They’re navy soldiers, down there.”

  “Yes, Danny.”

  “The Muradar military is privately owned?”

  “Yes, Danny.”

  Oh, wow. “The Florin own the military,” I whispered.

  “Yes, Danny.”

  I turned to look for Isuma Florina. She stood at the back of the crowd lining the very edge of the floor, patently uninterested in the violence happening right at the edge of the clearing in front of the palace. Her attention was upon the air in front of her, her gaze unfocused. Her translator android was right at her shoulder.

  She was either wearing the Terran equivalent of an earwig and listening to the Patriami report to her, or she had an implant that was doing the same thing.

  I squeezed through the people behind me and made my way over to her. Today she was wearing another form-fitting pretty gown, only it was blue, instead of purple, and the hood was down. Nor did she wear gloves today.

  Her gaze focused upon me as I approached. I don’t think I’d ever got this close to her before. From here, I could see wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and the suggestion of loose, aging skin around her jaw and throat. She wore carefully applied makeup that hid most of the geriatric markers, until one stood right in front of her.

  “Are my people safe?” I demanded, my tone blunt.

  She didn’t smile or try to wave it off. “The matter is being controlled, and in a moment, it will be resolved.”

  “What is the matter?” I demanded. “Tell me, Isuma. I can’t keep my people safe if I don’t have all the information.” There was no harm in saying that now. They’d figured out I wasn’t here to prop up the diplomats.

  Isuma considered me, then gave a tiny nod. “One of the minor families, the Julii, are protesting over these meetings.”

  “Let me guess…they don’t want Carinads stepping upon Earth,” I said dryly.

  “Yes.” Her gaze shifted inward for a second, then she smiled. “And see, the matter is resolved.” She waved toward the trees.

  The firing had stopped, but there was a crackle and smell of burning vegetation. I could see the tips of flames leaping up through the canopy, too. Quickly, the fire grew.

  Then abruptly, it was extinguished.

  “The protestors have been safely contained,” Isuma said, lifting her voice so everyone could hear her. “We should return to the hall to continue the meeting.”

  People turned and streamed back into the hall, everyone muttering with their heads together.

  I stayed put and waited for Isuma to notice me once more. When her gaze settled back on me, I said, “The Julii are a minor family, you said?”

  “That is correct.”

  “They don’t have a seat in the Assembly?”

  “No. Not all families have the…resources to justify a seat at the table.” Her smile was polite.

  Resources, in this context, I took to be the same as power, money and territory. “Then who do the Julii look to, to represent them in the Assembly?”

  Isuma considered me with greater attention. I’d surprised her with my knowledge of the Assembly powerlines.

  “Is it the Constantina?” I added.

  “I believe so,” she said, with a dismissive air. “I barely notice such matters, but that does sound right.”

  She was lying. She knew exactly who the Julii looked to and it was Belfon Constantine
, who didn’t want us here, either. Her lie told me that she didn’t agree with Constantine. Out of the three of the Assembly officials, she had been the most cooperative and open, too.

  I could use that. “If I could impose upon you a moment longer,” I said, then continued before she could refuse. “Quite apart from our missing person, I have another issue you might be able to help me with. Were you aware that when we attempted to visit the Success to the Bold, yesterday, we were turned back by a navy squad?”

  “Really?” Her brow lifted. “I must look into that. How disappointing for you.”

  Her tone was bland and I couldn’t make anything of her expression, not even if she was really surprised or not.

  “Yes, and apart from being disappointed, being turned back only a short distance from the palace presents those of us with parawolves a more complex problem. Parawolves must feed, Secretary. They become…uncontrollable, if they are not given an opportunity to gorge. Preferably to hunt and run, too.”

  She didn’t look disgusted. Merely interested. “A simple walk about the palace will not do, I presume?”

  “No. And they have been contained for two days. We did not take them with us yesterday, because none of them have experienced seawater and waves before.”

  “Are you suggesting we let your wolves…eat wildlife?”

  I shook my head. “I know the Terran biosphere is sacrosanct. What we normally do is provide the facsimile of fresh kill and let them tear at it and eat it—usually in a temperate environment. Sandy soil is good, too.”

  “You are asking to take them off this island and let them…roam?” She sounded amazed, appalled and astonished I could even request such a thing.

  I used the leverage she had handed me. “I know that some families resent the idea of us putting foot to Terran soil, but that is what I am asking, yes.”

  She understood. I was giving her a chance to spit in Constantine’s eye. “I know just the place for your parawolves,” she told me. “I will make arrangements.”

  —23—

  The morning’s negotiations ground to a halt shortly before the midday meal, as they had the day before. I was braced to have to sit through another meal playing nice with Terrans who resented us. Yet, as the bulk of the Terran’s streamed out the back door of the hall, one of the male Terrans from the back rows strode around the edges of the hall, clearly heading for me.

  I held still to let him catch up with me, curious.

  He glanced at Slate and spoke, his attention returning to me, for he had no android of his own. He looked very young and serious.

  “I am Uriah of the Florin, Colonel. The Florina asked me to make arrangements for your parawolves and they have been put in place. If you will come with me?”

  “Now?” I asked, astonished. Some of that astonishment was because he’d used my old military rank. I didn’t think the Terrans had known of it. Their research was expanding, clearly. Also, I had not heard Uriah himself speak the word ‘Colonel’, which meant he had used the Terran equivalent and Slate had faithfully translated.

  The Muradar navy had colonels.

  “The midday meal…” I added, for I was hungry.

  Uriah nodded. “A meal will be provided on the way there. How many will be travelling with you? I will let the transport chief know.”

  I wouldn’t have to dine with Terrans?

  I realized I was smiling. “I will give you that number in a few minutes. I must check with everyone. Where are we going, do you know?”

  “A location on Normerican, Colonel.”

  I moved around the room, grabbing everyone and letting them know what was planned. Everyone wanted to come, without exception.

  “See more of Terra? Of course I’m coming,” Marlow told me, with an eye roll.

  Barely thirty minutes later, the ground cars all rolled around to the front of the palace. Vara was beside herself with excitement and I had to fight to keep her contained. The other wolves, who’d clearly picked up that this excursion was for them, were also bouncing about, fretting and scrabbling. We pushed them into the ground cars, got ourselves into them, and the cars rolled back down the coast road, over the lowered bridge and onto the little island to the south of the island where the palace was located.

  A shuttle waited for us, with the doors open and the steps pushed up next to it. I could see it had the same chairs in rows as the first one—perhaps it was the same shuttle. Or maybe they had fleets of them to carry Terrans about the place.

  The humans were just as pleased with this expedition as the parawolves, but most of them were showing better self-control. We piled into the shuttle, chatting and laughing. There was a lot of good-natured teasing and jokes.

  It wasn’t just the parawolves who needed to get off the island and run.

  The shuttle was closed up and lifted off. It climbed into the high atmosphere, clearing intending to complete a semi-ballistic leap, probably the fastest way to reach the far side of the globe when one was starting on the ground. And the direction was north-west—which matched the parabola I had plotted in my head after consulting one of the maps of Terra on my pad.

  I relaxed a little, enough to eat when one of the two Terrans on the shuttle with us, besides the Ami pilot, handed out lidded bamboo boxes holding food that could be eaten with fingers, including—ah! Sandwiches.

  The familiar sight, sitting in the corner of the box, made me smile.

  “Hey, they have sandwiches, too!” Yoan cried.

  In the row in front of me, Mace said, “Hear that, Lys?”

  I leaned over the seat. “You’re bringing Lyssa along, Mace?”

  He leaned back so I could see passed his elbow. His pad was propped between the arm of his seat and the one beside him. Lyssa’s image on the pad waved at me. “I wanted to see Normerican, Danny. That’s okay, isn’t it?”

  “Better than listening to my grumpy thoughts about dirt and weather,” I assured her. “But don’t turn off my implant, huh? I want to be able to reach you in a hurry if I need to.”

  Mace rolled his eyes. “You never stop expecting the worst, Danny. We’ll be on an empty continent. What could possibly go wrong?”

  “Your problem, Mace, is that you simply haven’t lived long enough to know how silly that question sounds.” I sat back and heard the two of them murmuring and laughing, probably at my expense. I didn’t mind. It was relaxing to hear laughter.

  I finished my meal, which tasted ambrosial, even though it was merely a sandwich and slices of fruit. In the bottom layer of the box were what I would call cookies, although they tasted nothing like any cookie or biscuit I’d had before. The box next to them held a beverage that turned out to be fruit juice.

  We hit the apex of the ballistic curve as I finished the very last crumb of cookie and emptied the fruit juice. The shuttle spent three minutes hovering at the top, while we all experienced a moment of weightlessness—which didn’t seem to upset anyone. There was laughter as pieces of food escaped boxes, and as Lyth hauled Hero back onto her seat.

  I could see the pilot adjusting the trajectory as we hung there. He couldn’t make major corrections on the way down.

  Jai ordered everyone to strap in—he knew what was coming, too.

  Then the nose dipped and we hit supersonic speed as the shuttle screamed down toward the surface.

  That gave all of us a very good view of the land we were racing toward. It was a very large continent, and we were aiming for somewhere in the middle of it. I saw the glitter of rivers, and vast tracts of green, with a bald patch slightly to the west of the center. A mountain chain ran up alongside it, heading for the western coast.

  Dalton leaned toward me, over the top of Darb and Vara, who took the seats between us. “It looks perfectly natural to us to stare at land with no one on it, at a whole world empty of people except for a tiny settlement somewhere. For the Terrans, that’s unusual. They’re making a huge allowance, letting us do this.”

  I shook my head. “I doubt Isuma Flori
na gave it a second thought. She’s getting back at Constantine by letting us do this.” I paused. “I think we’ve all underestimated her.”

  “Maybe. It’s Rayhel I’ve got my eye on.”

  “Jealous, Gabriel?” I laughed at him.

  Dalton just rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Darb, who was whining, anxious about the steep angle of our descent and the wind screaming past us.

  The details of the land below grew as we got closer. It was just after sunrise for the eastern side of the continent, and pre-dawn dimness gripped the west. The mountain chain was to our left, the bald patch to the southwest. There was nothing but green ahead of us.

  Our descent smoothed out, the horizon came up, and we were skimming along, about a thousand meters up. Lush grasslands spread before us, running all the way to the horizon. It was empty of all living creatures, but the sound of the shuttle would have startled most of the wildlife away, which was good. I didn’t want the wolves bulleting out of the shuttle and bringing down a live creature in front of the three Terrans with us. Well, four Terrans, counting Slate, but I knew the Terrans wouldn’t see it that way.

  The shuttle settled down onto the grass and the engines cut out. We all crowded up behind the door, anxious to step out and explore.

  There was a breeze blowing from the east, ruffling our hair as we stepped onto the land and spread out from the shuttle. I kept a firm grip on Vara’s neck as we strode through the grass and looked around.

  The sun hung just above the eastern horizon, sending our long shadows out across the land. The breeze was cool, but not uncomfortably so. There was moisture in the air, but unlike the island where the palace was located, here the moisture smelled and tasted crisp and clean.

  We stood for a while, all of us, in a large fanned out crescent, peering ahead, while awe gripped us. This was Earth, the Terra our ancestors had left behind, so long ago in our history that for a while, we had lost her.

  Now we had her back.

  Vara whined. I scratched her ears, agreeing with her that this was very exciting. Then, before I could react, she took off, streaking through the grass with a soft, near silent yip.

 

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