by Patty Jansen
Reida opened the door to the car and let me get in.
Of course there was someone already in the car. Governor Celia Braddock.
Part one of the plan was completed.
Chapter Thirty-Four
In real life, Celia Braddock was shorter than she looked in the media, and slightly dumpy. I imagined her to be in her fifties, with her hair cut short just below the ears, and peppered through with grey.
Far from being alarmed to see me appear in her car, she seemed bemused.
“I take it you’re Mr Wilson?” she said.
Well, how was that? She knew and had been informed that this was going to happen. Likely, her inner circle of security knew. Thank the heavens for Sheydu’s machinations.
“I am. Nice to meet you.”
“It’s an interesting way to meet up. I was always a fan of old spy movies.”
She extended her hand, and I shook it, an old-fashioned gesture most people in the rest of the world had given up long ago. I’d read that some areas of the world had never shared that European-origin greeting, and it was uncommon enough already when the rapid spread of a disease had forced people to rethink how often they touched strangers. Very formal people at Nations of Earth sometimes did it, and it was common in this part of the world which, ironically, had never controlled the disease very well.
The convoy had started to move again. I glanced over my shoulder, hoping, presuming, that Thayu, Veyada and Nicha were in the car behind us.
The driveway crossed a green lawn—where I couldn’t see a sign of Ynggi or of the commotion he may or may not have created.
The convoy swung around a sweeping driveway to a stop in front of the lakeside residence, a modern structure with a glass-fronted entrance hall where several people waited.
When the car stopped, one of them came down the few steps to open the door. His eyes widened when I came out first, but the governor nodded to him.
We went up the steps into the building. The other car had also stopped. I was happy to see Veyada, Nicha and Thayu come out and follow us up the steps in the company of some uniformed guards.
“Those people are my security,” I said. “It’s customary for them to come as far as the security station. One of them is also a lawyer, if we need one.”
“Noted.”
She didn’t say what would happen to them. I presumed they could look after themselves, and also that a large Asto military team watched from the shadows. I absolutely hoped that they could stay right where they were.
We walked down a corridor with glass on one side and a view across the lake. There was a fountain in the middle, spewing a jet of water into the sunlight. Trees and bushes grew on the far shore. The map had shown me that there was a security wall over there, on the bank of the river, but I couldn’t see it from here. Instead, the buildings of the inner city poked over the top of the trees. It was a peaceful setting, unless you knew that the lingering haze came from fires that were still smouldering.
We came to another security door at the end of the corridor, opened by a guard at our approach.
As soon as this door slid aside, a dog barked and ran across the airy foyer.
And a magnificent dog it was, too, a tall, slender creature with a pointed nose and drooping ears. The most amazing feature was its light brown hair that was long and flowing and almost dragged over the ground. It was glossy, having been trimmed, shampooed and combed to within an inch of its life. Another dog followed the first one, this one darker, and without barking.
Both animals trotted to the governor, sniffed her hands and then came to me.
“What gorgeous dogs,” I said. “I’ve never seen these before. My father has a dog, but it’s a farm animal.”
“A kelpie. A sheep dog?”
“Yes.”
Obviously she had spent some time studying me. Or she knew a lot about dogs. Or both.
I followed her out of the foyer into a large office.
The entire far wall consisted of thick glass—probably bullet-proof—and looked out over the lake.
Everything about the office reminded me of Sirkonen and his office at Nations of Earth on that fateful day that changed my life. The similarity of the opulent Victorian style of furniture was so uncanny that I felt a certain discomfort creeping up on me, as if some gunman or a ship in orbit was going to shift the world out from under me yet again.
A big wooden desk sat in the middle of the room, with a chair that looked like it came straight out of the Victorian period. The matching furniture was all polished and gleaming.
Old-fashioned paintings adorned the walls, some of them even so old that the people wore horse hair wigs.
As we came in, I spotted movement in the corner of the room. A third dog got off a bench that seemed to have been put there for the governor’s furred companions, and padded across the room. This animal was almost white, and its appearance was regal. It had a dark nose and dark, mournful eyes, with which it observed me.
The governor crossed the room to her desk and sat down. A small couch faced the desk, and it was the most natural place for me to sit.
The dog came up to me and sat down. The other two dogs were still at the door.
Celia Braddock gave a sharp command, and all three animals padded to the bench.
They were such amazingly graceful creatures. Deyu would love to see them.
“There is a lot of history in this room,” I said.
“You cannot adequately understand the present if you don’t understand the past,” she said. “These were the founders of our city and our nation, people of great resilience and drive.”
I remembered that it was precisely this adoration for old revered figures that had caused so many troubles between the states. Which history to keep and which to let slide into the obscurity of time. I also noticed that she spoke of one nation. Last time I looked, there were four. I was reasonably certain that the belligerent Governor Patterson of America Free State might start a war over what she just said.
“I’m sure that you’re aware of the reason I want to talk to you.”
“Your people have mentioned it. But, to start off our conversation, let me be clear: we’re independent. We’re not shackled to the slavish doctrine of Nations of Earth. We’re not seeking membership, nor are we out to stoke conflict with them.”
No, I bet she wasn’t. International sanctions had crippled several of her predecessors.
“I have no desire to comment on your relationship with Nations of Earth. There is only one reason I needed to speak with you: that is about the source of the invading drones and specifically the one your forces brought down. We have discovered some interesting facts about it.”
“You are here because you broke into their facility illegally.”
“I would never have gained access otherwise. There were things we needed to know.”
“Members of my government might say that you would have been kept out for a very good reason.”
“But you obviously didn’t agree?”
“No, you misunderstand. I agreed with them, but I wanted to give you some rope to hang yourself. We’ve been collecting data of all of you folks sneaking around here, probing into our systems. It’s time to face the music, Mr. Wilson. This room is a fortress. There are eyes everywhere. I’m not afraid of you. You represent a spineless organisation that’s too afraid to call out what’s been happening. What business do you think you’re conducting?”
“I’m here for only one thing: the truth.” And she was wrong: I didn’t represent Nations of Earth.
She snorted. “The truth? The truth is that this gormless woman made a pact with the devil and now they’re all so wrapped up in their referendum result that they can’t even stand up against the bully.”
“I’d prefer to conduct this talk without insults to presidents.”
“This is my house and I dictate the te
rms. You’ve already taken way more liberties than I would have allowed for most other self-absorbed lobbyists.”
“I’m not a—”
“A lobbyist. That’s what you are. Make no mistake, Mr Wilson. You’re here because I’m curious, not because I think your words will be important. You better get on with it, because my curiosity is fast running out.”
I took a deep breath. “The reason I’ve come here is to show you what we have found about the origin of the drones. I’ll give you a copy of all our materials so you can check it for yourself. I won’t need much of your time. I’ll present the facts to you and then I’ll leave the country with every member of my team.”
She said nothing, folding her arms over her ample chest.
I took it as a sign to continue.
One of the dogs let its front legs slide from underneath so it landed gracefully on its stomach. All three dogs were watching us.
In the intense silence, I started my story. I told her about the buried ship in the territory of the Misty Forest tribe, about the attempted destabilisation of Barresh, about the ship that was still approaching Earth and no one had been able to communicate with. I told her about the entities we thought might have been responsible, about the Aghyrians and the Tamer Collective.
Then I pulled out the images Reida had prepared for me, showing her the parts that were of Asto origin, the parts that were of Indrahui origin, the parts that we didn’t recognise, and the parts that were exactly the same as the ones we had found in the craft in Barresh. When I finished, she gave me a hard look.
“So, what are you saying? That we attacked our own cities? Mr Wilson, are you out of your mind?”
“Do you want me to assume that the people behind these attacks are yours? Because I doubt it, and I never suggested that they were.”
“Yet, you do. That’s clear to me.”
“Many years ago, they left a country that you have been in conflict with several times in the last fifty years.”
“We disagree, but the group you’re talking about came from all over the region. They were our best and finest minds. I don’t like the insinuation that they formed an army in space and attacked their home. Frankly, that’s ludicrous.”
“I am merely telling you what the data suggests.”
“Suggests. Let’s start with that. You suggest that the highly trained people in our forces haven’t studied this fragment and haven’t done a lot of work to come to our own conclusions?”
“Would they have the knowledge about gamra technology that we have?”
“You would be surprised.”
“If so, why do they come to the bizarre conclusion that gamra is responsible?”
“I don’t question the opinions of my experts. That’s why they are experts.”
“The experts would have found the same parts. The experts would have scanned the parts and obtained the same data. On top of that, your experts would have had the benefit of the knowledge of what became of the great institution that was NASA once they lost government funding, and where the people and resources went. They would have been aware that a fundamentalist organisation splintered off and started building their own ships. They would have been aware that many of the people who worked in those factories disappeared.”
“Don’t tell me how to do my work.”
“Were you not aware of those things, then?”
“I can’t see how this has anything to do with this attack.”
“Because these people or their descendants are behind the attack.”
“I already told you that makes no sense whatsoever. Why would they attack their country of origin?”
“Why did they leave?”
Again that hard stare. “The Southern California Aerospace Force is a proud chapter in our heritage.”
“Then tell me: why did they vanish? Why did about ten thousand people vanish fifty years ago? Have they been in contact with you?”
“They didn’t vanish. They were re-absorbed in other programs. The organisation isn’t active anymore.”
“They are active. It’s what the evidence suggests: that we’re dealing with a third entity beyond Nations of Earth or gamra that we haven’t encountered before and haven’t been aware could pose a threat until recently. We know that they arose from the SCAC. That is all I’m here to tell you about the drones. Gamra didn’t send them. Nations of Earth didn’t send them. Suggesting that they did is…unhelpful.”
“Unhelpful, huh? I think your suggestions are unhelpful. Preposterous. I think your theories are crazy. I trust my experts. Your presentation does not change my view in any way.”
“That would be to your detriment. It would also hamper our ability to enact an adequate response. These drones will keep coming. We need to be prepared.”
“And what’s that? A threat? Some sugary motherhood statement about how we should all come together to fight against a greater evil? An evil that’s the result of the softness of Nations of Earth? They try to sell us the lies that they want to join the aliens to protect us. That’s nonsense. They don’t want to protect us. The world doesn’t care about us. The world hasn’t cared about us for close to a hundred years. The world is not going to care now. We can solve this ourselves, and I will have no further dialogue with people like you. In fact, I’d urge you to leave. I will allow you safe passage out of the country, but don’t get any illusions that you are ever going to be welcome here again. Good day, Mr Wilson. I’ve stuck to my promise and listened to you. Now you can go.”
She waved her hand at the door, which slid open, letting in two uniformed officers.
I rose. Took a few steps to the door.
Then I turned around again. “I’d urge you to study the fragment closely, and you’ll come to the same conclusion as I have.”
“I would love to show you where you can stick your data, but I think I better give it to my security officers who will pick it apart to see the trickery you’ve performed on this so-called data. Expect to hear from me again. Expect to be presented with a bill for the damage you’ve inflicted, and the wages of security staff I’ve been forced to put on you.”
I nodded. “Thank you for seeing me.”
She snorted.
I followed the guards out the door, and walked down the corridor flanked by them, while trying to remember if I had ever been to a more unproductive and hostile meeting.
Yet, I’d come here because this was important. Also, because I had hoped that I could bring her closer to Nations of Earth.
I believed in those things, and I didn’t appreciate her mocking of them.
But keeping lines of discussion open was hard to do when Nations of Earth itself was in a state of flux and not communicating with me. And gamra didn’t care about these issues yet.
This was the worst possible thing to happen at the worst possible time. We couldn’t afford disunity and distrust.
From my own perspective, I intensely disliked failure.
But it was what it was.
I’d thought Celia Braddock would see sense if presented with the data, but I’d forgotten that this was a government that considered facts optional.
I’d failed and Celia Braddock would continue to spew her crap on the world stage, and the world would continue to mock her for it, instead of getting organised to counter further attacks, devise a plan to take out that approaching ship.
I could talk to Nations of Earth, but Dekker didn’t want to see me either.
Why did I even bother?
Chapter Thirty-Five
Thayu, Veyada and Nicha waited in the airy foyer of the building, accompanied by a bevy of uniformed guards. We kept silent as I re-joined them and were escorted out of the building to a van that took us the very short distance back to the gate.
Another, larger, van waited there, behind a line of uniformed motorcyclists holding back a crowd of onlookers.
We
left the smaller van on the side facing away from the crowd, and briefly came into their view when being escorted from one vehicle to the other.
People shouted. I couldn’t hear their words, but they didn’t sound friendly or curious. We were in hostile territory. I didn’t know why I’d thought I could negotiate away more than a hundred years’ worth of division by just talking to people. They didn’t like us here. Many would be civil enough to deal with us, especially when there was money to be made, but behind our backs, they hated us. They wanted to believe that we were responsible for the attacks. They weren’t interested in proof.
I didn’t even know if Junco or Sage’s apparent friendliness was real anymore.
Inside the other van, we encountered the rest of the team. Mereeni and Jaki sat at the very back seat with the kids and behind the pile of luggage. Mereeni looked relieved to see Veyada.
Ynggi sat next to Evi, with Telaris and Zyana across the aisle.
Anyu was there with Reida, and Deyu with Isharu.
Sheydu sat in the front seat, next to an officer holding a weapon. Nothing about him was casual. A second armed guard stood on the steps. They were both eying Sheydu.
Thayu and I sat down on the bench behind her.
“What’s going on?” I asked her.
The officer next to her looked over his shoulder and gave me the stink-eye.
“They really don’t like us here,” Sheydu said.
“Did they touch any of you?”
“No. Deyu made sure of that.”
I shuddered inside. She was putting on a stoic face, but there clearly had been an altercation. And when Deyu was involved…
“Did anyone die?”
“No. Nothing was harmed except his pride,” Deyu said from the seat behind us.
“His ability to reproduce might be temporarily impaired,” Sheydu said.
Ouch.
The guard was looking from one to the other. I didn’t think he understood a word of what we said.
I made the hand signal for careful.
My team understood. Oh, they understood. Things would have to have been pretty bad for a confrontation to have happened already. Talking to each other in front of these very nervous guards, while they couldn’t understand a word we said, would not end well.