“Until then, put my list together and send me the bill. There’s a onetime address code in the file.”
“Did you have a time frame in mind?”
“You’ve got one week.” Adam didn’t care how big a disadvantage that put him at. “I will pay a handsome bonus for delivery.”
The Agent raised his eyebrows. “I always welcome incentives. However, given the state of the Commonwealth right now, that might be a little difficult.”
“One week.”
“I see you’re not going to be moved. Very well. To aspire nobly is its own reward. I won’t let you down.” He leaned forward abruptly, and held his hand out.
Adam shook, trying not to let the sneer of disgust appear on his face.
“Excellent.” The Agent walked back to the open drinks cabinet and poured another two shots of Impiricus-blue. He waved a hand, and ten tall slabs of granite pivoted through ninety degrees to reveal a picture window behind. “We’re safer than most here, you know,” he said. “One rich city is easy to defend. And City Hall has spent a great deal of money upgrading our force fields on top of the navy shielding. Yet still the doubt gnaws at my soul. I am blessed to live amid such beauty as only God and nature can create.”
“What doubts?” Adam asked. He was looking past the Agent at the extraordinary vista through the window. Tridelta City shimmered in the midafternoon sunlight, a flat reclaimed island that used to be the flood zone where three rivers merged; the Logrosan, the Dongara, and the Upper Monkira, each large in their own right, united to become the impressive torrent of water that was the Lower Monkira, flowing to the ocean five hundred kilometers away.
Before humans came to Illuminatus, the tridelta area was a sandy marsh that flooded five or six times a year whenever the rivers rose, their torrents ripping out any vegetation that had rooted among the low saturated dunes since the last deluge. With the Commonwealth Council placing an absolute conservation order on the forests and jungles of Illuminatus, preventing any form of clearance, this was the one patch of land other than the mountains that had no trees. CST built a protective three-kilometer-wide groyne wall in the center, and constructed their planetary station amid the tropical heat and moisture. As more construction crews arrived, and the travel companies began to invest heavily, additional walls were built. Huge pumps drained and stabilized the boggy sand, new soil was either dredged out of the rivers or shipped in by train, raising the artificial island’s ground level. Foundations were sunk deep, and big high-rise blocks assembled. From that beginning, Tridelta City had mushroomed impressively, first outward, then when the limits of the flood marsh were consumed: upward.
Everywhere Adam looked he could see skyscrapers: towers of concrete, metal, composite, and glass producing a gothic landscape of sharp pinnacles rising out of the darker conurbation of low buildings. Most were a kilometer high, with the newer skyscrapers reaching even farther into the misted air. The Kinoki Tower, so far just a massive slender pyramid of scaffolding on the Logrosan’s east bank, was due to top out at three kilometers. Nearly every skyscraper had an airship docked to it; the taller ones had several at varying levels. The craft were all big, over two hundred meters long, with observation decks running the length of their undersides. None of them flew during the day; they just sat on the end of their docking gantry arms, rocking slightly in the misty gusts that swirled across the city.
“I deal in the underside of civilization,” the Agent said mournfully, keeping his back to Adam so he could face the window. “I look out at my city every day and I see how inspiringly high we can climb, yet in this room I also witness how low we can go as a species. I never involve myself personally, you understand, I merely survive by making arrangements. Out of this I live the life I want. I have the constant excitement which is the twin of danger; money, women, the thrill of being engaged at levels of politics and corporate enmity which the ordinary citizen doesn’t even know exists. Yet here you are, independent of all this, planning some act of violence on behalf of the Guardians of Selfhood. I find myself wondering if for once I should involve myself.”
“You want my advice: don’t. There’s a chance none of us will be coming back.”
“Honestly spoken. But my dilemma is this: you attacked the navy before, and now here we are, desperately waiting for the return of the starships. Did you know governments have been advised to put their defense systems on grade two alert? Grade one is when you switch them on. And the navy won’t say if it has had any success.”
“They won’t know until the ships return.”
“How wrong that is, and you know it. If the attack on Hell’s Gateway was successful, all the alien wormholes open in Commonwealth space would shut down. Yet they haven’t. Instead we’ve had the confidential warning to make ready. Now you appear, wanting troops inside of a week. I have to ask myself if this is coincidence. I will do many things for money, yet betraying my species is not one of them.”
“This is not betrayal, quite the opposite.”
“Your ideology claims that we are being manipulated by aliens. Is that right?”
Adam was rather surprised to find himself sweating despite the unobtrusive air-conditioning. He’d never considered that the Agent might be a problem, least of all on a moral level. For once he had no emergency exit plans. Stupid. “It is, but it’s not my ideology. I am not a Guardian, I work as their agent from time to time. And the navy didn’t exist when the Second Chance was attacked. Consider this: if it had been successfully destroyed, then there would have been no flight to trigger the barrier’s collapse.”
The Agent turned from the window and held out a shot glass. “If not then: later.” He smiled again. “I see your logic. Your word, then?”
“We’re on the same side.”
“For such tidings grown men weep.”
Adam took the shot glass and knocked back half of the liqueur. He was sure the burn was harder this time. “You take somebody’s word?”
“I pride myself on being an anachronism. Surprised? I know how you judge me. Think of this as a small retribution.”
“Cheers.” Adam finished the drink.
“Are you leaving us? I do truly believe this city to be safe from assault. Our weapons industry is small in comparison to that of a Big15, but we are very sophisticated.”
“One lone fortress holding fast against the barbarian horde? I don’t think that’s for me. Try accessing the records of the siege of Leningrad sometime and ask yourself who really won.”
“You’re going out in a blaze of glory?”
“No. That’s actually what we’re trying to prevent.”
“Bravo. And incidentally, one of the main reasons I accept your word is because I do know who you represent. What concerns me is that there are some strange people walking the darker streets of Tridelta these days.”
“Is that so?”
“Ah, mockery; the righteousness of fools everywhere. We are a microcosm of the Commonwealth, Señor Duanro. Look at us, and see yourself.”
“All right, I’m buying. What strange people?”
“That’s the thing. Despite all my efforts, and to be immodest for a moment, they are not inconsiderable; I cannot discover their allegiance. They certainly don’t belong to any Isolationist movement, nor a crime syndicate as far as I can determine. Yet they have money, enough to gain exclusivity in several of our more surreptitious clinics. Over the last few months many of my clients have been bounced off waiting lists so the affiliates of these new people can receive armament wetwiring and other services. Taken as a group, they are a considerable force.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
The Agent raised his glass in salute, and drained it in one.
Adam stood to leave. He couldn’t resist one last glance through the window. The Agent was right about Tridelta; it was about the most ethnically cosmopolitan city in the Commonwealth. That was why its government was so fractious and radically independent. Contempt for Commonwealth laws and hatred of S
enate “interference” were always high on the agenda of any City Hall politician. It made the relocation of specific services and research laboratories to Illuminatus very attractive for companies who could take advantage of the more liberal laws. Its economy accelerated as fast as its population, an atmosphere in which the local crime syndicates thrived. Consternation in the Senate at this burgeoning “crime central” was another cause of antagonism. It had culminated seventy years ago in a local campaign for Isolation. But although they didn’t have much regard for Commonwealth laws, Tridelta’s population did have a lot of respect for Commonwealth cash. Illuminatus remained integrated.
“You’re very well connected with the political class here,” Adam said. “I wonder if I might ask a favor.”
“I’d be interested to hear it.”
“A lot of lifeboat projects have been started in the Commonwealth.”
“Yes, I caught the Michelangelo show last week. That young reporter did an excellent job. I always take pleasure in Dynasty members squirming in public.”
“If you hear of any companies on Illuminatus supplying the Sheldons with components for a lifeboat, I’d enjoy hearing about it.”
“That’s certainly a favor I’d be happy supplying. I will inquire for you.”
“Thank you. A pleasure, as always.”
Adam had been back at the Hotel Conomela for barely half an hour when Jenny McNowak called.
“Thought you’d like to know,” she said. “We’ve just arrived at CST’s Tridelta station.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Following Bernadette Halgarth. She caught the express direct from EdenBurg. We’re standing on the steps outside the Dalston Street entrance watching her taxi drive off. Kaspar is trying to hack its array to see which hotel she’s checked into.”
“Okay, so what’s Bernadette doing here?”
“Who knows? She had a full diary for the rest of the week: lunches, parties, shows, committee meetings, same stuff as she always does. There was nothing scheduled on Illuminatus. And, Adam, she didn’t tell anyone she was coming, she just dropped everything and got on the train. Right now she’s supposed to be having cocktails with a whole bunch of minor Dynasty socialites at the Rialto Metropolitan Gallery.”
“Okay, keep with her and let me know what happens.”
“We’ll do our best, but there’s only the two of us. Any chance we can have some reinforcements? It’s going to be difficult keeping tabs on her in a city like this.”
“I’ll do what I can; we’re stretched a little thin right now. But, Jenny, you’re reconnaissance only, understand? I don’t want you involved in any incidents. Observe and report.”
“I know. Ah, Kanton says the taxi is heading for the Octavious on the Lower Monkira Wharfside Avenue.”
Adam’s e-butler pulled up the local cybersphere listing on the Octavious. It was a medium-size three-star hotel, a hundred fifty years old. Not the kind of place someone like Bernadette would normally stay at. “Definitely interesting,” he said. “I’ll do my best to get some help for you. In the meantime, under no circumstances check in to the Octavious. We don’t know what’s there, and I’ve just heard there are some wetwired people in this town that don’t belong to any local syndicate.”
“Do what we can,” Jenny said. She closed the call.
Adam closed his eyes, trying to think who he could spare from other operations he was running. He hadn’t been making excuses when he said they were spread thin. In the end he called Kieran McSobel, and told him to bring Jamas McPeierls, Rosamund McKratz, and himself along to Illuminatus on the next express to support Jenny and Kanton. After that, he called Bradley.
“I’m glad our little investment in Bernadette appears to be paying off,” Bradley said. “It was something of a long shot.”
“We’ll know for sure soon enough. She wouldn’t have left EdenBurg in this fashion unless it was urgent.”
“Quite. The timing is significant, I believe. It would appear as if the navy assault on Hell’s Gateway has encountered some difficulty. The unisphere news shows are starting to ask if the Prime wormholes to the Lost23 have shut down.”
“If they had, the navy would tell us; if not them, Doi would want to make the announcement to the Senate.”
“Time is not on our side, Adam. It is only two days until the starships are theoretically within communications range of the Commonwealth. If the news is as bad as everyone is starting to predict, our one window of opportunity might be upon us very swiftly indeed.”
“You think the Starflyer will leave?”
“If we have failed to destroy Hell’s Gateway, the Primes will undoubtedly move to annex more Commonwealth planets. Humanity will strike back as hard as we can. After that, the war will not end until one of us has been wiped out of existence, and the other badly damaged. That is the Starflyer’s goal. Once those final events have started the end result is inevitable; it has no reason to remain in the middle of a war zone. Already, we have built weapons of enormous destructive power in the Douvoir relativistic missiles; and those are only the ones the navy has given information on. There will be others in the pipeline; there always are.”
“Wait a minute, are you saying the war will happen no matter what? I thought eliminating and exposing the Starflyer would put an end to all this.”
“I never promised that, Adam. I had no idea the Primes would be so uncompromising, so brutal. I don’t see how they can be stopped.”
Adam stared out of the hotel’s window across the city where dusk was falling. A beautiful rose-gold sun was already touching the skyline of dark buildings, sending its last orange rays through the layers of mist and cloud to stroke the rooftops and skyscrapers. What Johansson had just said hit him like a particularly volatile police stun charge, draining all the energy from his limbs to leave nothing but sharp tingling. “But … what the fuck are we doing this for?”
“Justice, Adam. It has ruined a world that was once full of life and potential. Far Away was reduced to a desert by the mega flare so it could call across the stars. The Starflyer has brought us to the brink of ruin, too. Surely you don’t believe it should be allowed to leave freely? You of all people, Adam, are possessed of a true sense of justice.”
“No,” Adam groaned. He sat heavily on the edge of his bed, his breathing coming in taxing gulps. Just for an instant he thought he was having some kind of stroke. His body was completely unresponsive as he looked back across the decades to see the diverted passenger train racing across Abadan station, trying to make up for time it had lost on StLincoln. It wasn’t supposed to be on that track, not at that time. The explosion—“That’s not justice. Without validation, killing is just murder.”
“Did you explain that to Kazimir? Do the Guardian villages now under attack on Far Away appreciate your lofty elitist rationalizing?”
“Villages?” Adam frowned, shaking his head to pull the world back into focus.
“The Institute mercenaries are raiding every clan village they can find. Not the frontline forts, not the ones with weapons and warriors. They attack our farmers, our shepherds. Our mothers and their children. The Starflyer has released its uniformed gangsters on our weak and old, hoping we will rush to their aid. It is returning, Adam, it is going back to Far Away. Its slaves are preparing the way for it.”
“What will end the war? There must be something?”
“If you don’t believe me, call Stig. He’s still hanging on in Armstrong City while the firebombs are thrown and the snipers strike unseen. But be quick about it. The Institute is offering the Governor aid in restoring ‘civil order.’ They will soon control the gateway. We will be blocked out.”
“I’m not sure I can do this anymore.”
“My poor Adam. Always believing you are the valiant one, that right will triumph in the end. It’s not always like that. The universe was not built on integrity. In the face of weakness, force can and will triumph. All you can do is choose who wields that force. Us or
the Starflyer. Don’t give up now, Adam. You have come so far.”
“Shit.” He wiped the cold sweat from his brow, staring at the moisture on his hand, surprised to see it. I should have known there was no clear answer. Maybe I did. Maybe I just keep going because that’s all that’s left of me.
“Adam,” Bradley said firmly. “Without this there is truly no hope. The planet must be allowed to have its revenge.”
“All right.” Adam stood and looked down on the darkening city. “All right, damnit.”
“Get the train ready to break through the blockade. It’s going to be magnificent, Adam. This journey will be legend.”
After the call ended, Adam never moved, watching through the window until night had claimed Tridelta, and he could see the jungle in all its glory for one last time. “Legend, my ass,” he said with a laugh. His voice nearly cracked, but he didn’t care anymore. He told the maidbot to pack his luggage, and ordered a taxi to take him to the CST station. His e-butler booked a ticket on the next train to Kyushu.
Second Lieutenants Gwyneth Russell and Jim Nwan followed Tarlo out of the taxi and into the NorthHarbor precinct house. They’d all left their uniforms back at the Paris office; here in Tridelta they’d be far too conspicuous. Tarlo wore a pale blue sweatshirt with short frayed sleeves and old jeans, with sneakers and a beaded leather necklace. Gwyneth envied him that in the brief dash to the precinct lobby; her more formal cream suit and gray blouse were damp by the time she reached the air-conditioning inside, and the sun was already dropping below the skyline.
Detective Sergeant Marhol and probationary detective Lucius Lee were waiting for them by the processing desk.
“Quite an ordeal,” Jim said to Lucius as the five of them took the elevator up to the fifteenth floor where the detectives had their offices.
“I told him the stakeout was good experience.” Marhol laughed callously, and gave Lucius a hard slap between his shoulder blades. He was overweight, with a belly that rolled over his belt. His clothes were expensive.
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