Ambassador 1A: The Sahara Conspiracy (Ambassador: Space Opera Thriller)

by Patty Jansen

  That was probably a pretty fair assessment.

  “See, even my sister can understand why it’s a bad idea to get involved. So close to the election, this is about politics.” He used the Isla word because Coldi didn’t do politics in the same way. “I don’t understand why you didn’t tell him to get lost. Yeah, you still have a contract until the end of the month, but nothing stops you walking away from it.”

  “Come on, Nich’. You saw that weapon. That was no ordinary charge gun. Ezhya would want to make sure that those kinds of weapons don’t get too widely distributed on Earth.”

  “Ezhya doesn’t care about Earth.”

  “I really don’t believe that. OK, maybe he doesn’t care about Earth per se, but he definitely cares about the Coldi population on Earth. And he cares about not being seen trying to secretly annex Earth against gamra law. The assembly would go into a feeding frenzy.”

  They both nodded. Ezhya was very concerned about that. Asto and a couple of Coldi worlds held a very slim majority in the gamra assembly. Those entities that were perpetually looking for reasons to damage Asto’s standing examined Asto’s every move. I didn’t doubt for one second that some of Asto’s marginal supporters would readily switch allegiance if evidence of illegal annexation came to light.

  Nicha sighed, admitting defeat. “So, then, what is the plan? What does this guy want you to do?”

  “I don’t know yet. The briefs are supposed to be on the plane, but I hate being totally dependent on them.”

  Thayu and Nicha nodded. I knew they hated it even more than I did.

  “Since they kindly offered us transport, I’m thinking we might use it to drop into Athens on the way. We need to talk to Amarru about this. Once we’re in the air, we tell the pilot that we have a change of plan and instead of going straight to Djibouti, we want to make a short stop in Athens.”

  “Yes,” Thayu said. “Amarru needs to be informed. The Exchange may be able to help us.”

  The car went through the gates to the compound and entered the city streets. I stared at the back of the driver, suddenly feeling very tired. Damn, I wanted to go home.

  Even though it was not so early anymore, the sky still had that “early” feel. While I had spoken with Dekker, the city had woken up, and we no longer had the entire street to ourselves. The sun had risen, but because it was December its shadows remained long and its golden light held little warmth.

  It was busy at the airport, mainly with buses and taxis dropping off passengers going to work in different parts of Europe. I spotted another Nations of Earth vehicle in the throng.

  Our car bypassed that crowd, following a sign that said, “Private transport.”

  When we drove past the terminal, Thayu turned around to look out the back window. I recognised that sharp look, that subconscious twitch of her hand to her arm, where she held her gun in the arm bracket.

  “Thay’?”

  She didn’t reply, but stared at the road behind us. Headlights from a car following us shone in her face, making her eyelashes show up brightly metallic. Damn, I loved that woman.

  A few statements in code went through the feeder from her to Nicha. Thayu groped under her jacket for the gun. She took it out and lay it on her lap.

  Meanwhile, the car continued on, the driver and the guard oblivious in their walled-off cabin.

  The car stopped at the front of the VIP entrance of the building. The guard got out and went to get us our bags from the back. We got out.

  An icy breeze cut straight through my clothes. A man and woman walking past gave me odd looks.

  The guard slammed the back door of the car shut, slapped the roof as a sign that the driver was good to go. He accompanied us into the building. Thayu remained vigilant, even if she had put the gun back in its arm bracket so as not to alarm other people.

  I wished I could ask her what was up, but she appeared to be listening to something, a frown on her face. My heart was hammering.

  The guard was chatting away about nonsense as we crossed the hall. That we needed to check in, that they’d want to scan our baggage, that we’d need to hand in weapons, blah, blah, blah.

  This part of the terminal catered for private flights and luxury airlines. The atmosphere was perhaps less chaotic than in the main terminal, but no less busy. We lined up at the self-serve customs counter, but the machine refused to take my pass. A press on a button brought a staff member from a door in the back wall. He entered my pass manually. My EXO-NZ designation came on the screen in red letters. He didn’t know what the red colour meant, and managed to turn it back to its usual black after a couple of calls to a supervisor.

  Thayu and Nicha didn’t have these passes, but they produced the cards issued by the Exchange that showed only EXO. The man spent a ridiculous amount of time studying these passes. He asked questions: What were we doing in Rotterdam? Where were we going? How long were we here?

  I felt vaguely uncomfortable with this level of scrutiny. For one, I had never been checked here in a similar fashion and, even though I preferred the train, I’d come through many times. But eventually, he appeared satisfied and let us through.

  Our Nations of Earth guard was waiting in the luxurious departure lounge. He told us cheerfully that the jet was almost ready and then proceeded to talk about the weather. Yes, it was winter and maybe there could be some snow although it hadn’t snowed this far south for at least fifty years. Bring the ice picks. We sat down. I took the tea he offered us, but it was so hot that I had to let it cool down. My hands felt like icicles.

  Having run out of subjects to talk about, and lacking a response from our side—I really didn’t feel like talking about the weather—the guard fell quiet. Thayu and Nicha watched the tarmac where the jet stood. It looked ready to me, the door open and light blazing inside. I had no idea what we were waiting for.

  Finally the guard’s receiver beeped. “Time to go.”

  I slung my bag over my shoulder, realising that I hadn’t touched the tea yet. Oh, well. I looked at it, and the guard looked at it. He smiled uneasily.

  Thayu met my eyes.

  What? I asked through the feeder.

  Something really odd going on. Can’t quite determine what it is.

  But it was all right, because the Nations of Earth jet would take us back to Athens within an hour. None of the Nations of Earth guards could get into the Exchange building. We could talk freely in there. Also, once I heard what I was supposed to do, I was going tell them that I’d arrange my own transport.

  We left the lounge and followed the guard through the open doors into the cold air. The jet was the only craft on this side of the building being prepared for take-off. A couple of Nations of Earth guards hung around near the bottom of the stairs.

  About halfway to the plane, Thayu stopped.

  I had gone a little bit ahead before she called me. Cory . . .

  What? She only used my name when there was something really wrong.

  I can hear . . .

  I could hear it, too, a low powerful hum.

  Both Thayu and Nicha were looking at the sky over the top of the building that we had just left.

  Something dark with a couple of floodlights rose low over the building’s roof. Much too low to be legal. The bright glow from the floodlights travelled over the roof, over the tarmac—

  Fuck it, that was a military gyrocopter.

  The air was going thud-thud-thud-thud-thud. It was almost painful to my ears.

  It whipped up a dust laden breeze that blew leaves and rubbish into whirlwinds. It was an unmarked, dark grey craft. The back door was open. A small light burned inside the cargo hold and when the craft banked, I spotted the silhouette of a man seated at a rocket launcher in the openi
ng.

  Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud.

  Thayu took my arm and dragged me across the open space towards the cover of another private jet, locked-up and dark. She could run much faster than I could and all I managed to do was not trip. Nicha was behind us. The Special Services guards surrounding the jet had drawn weapons.

  Thayu stuck her small gun in the belt bracket and got the big one. She wasn’t even puffed out from having dragged me.

  Shots rang out in the space between the buildings. It was one of the Special Services guards. Somewhere in a nearby building an alarm started wailing.

  The gyrocopter slowed.

  Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud.

  “Shit, the guy in the back,” Thayu yelled. She aimed her big gun. Her hand tensed. The gun discharged with the characteristic floomp sound. The discharge went over the top of the jet, into the cargo door of the gyrocopter. There was a flash when it hit. A small object fell out, followed by what was clearly a body.

  Shit, that woman of mine was an ace shot.

  Now the gyrocopter turned. First one and then the other rocket launcher went off. One hit the tarmac and the other slammed into the jet. Both exploded in a ball of flames. A few seconds later, the jet’s fuel tank—fully filled and ready for take-off—exploded in an even bigger fire ball. The entire side of the building glowed with the flames.

  Special Services guards ran towards the inferno, but even the heavy guns they carried would be no good against a military gyrocopter. It was turning again, coming back into our direction.

  “Come on!” Thayu yelled. “Run!”

  Nicha stood still, raising his gun. He aimed for the pilot’s windscreen.

  Fired.

  The gyrocopter pulled up.

  Thud-thud-thud-thud. The very air vibrated with it. A blast of hot air from the fire blew past.

  And up.

  The charge from Nicha’s gun deflected off the armoured underside of the craft and dissipated harmlessly. He swore. The gyrocopter rapidly rose out of range. Elsewhere at the airport, a jet engine started up.

  We ran.

  A fire truck came towards us, and a whole bunch of security vehicles. But the jet was burning so fiercely that they couldn’t even get close.

  We ran across the tarmac.

  Thayu didn’t even have to drag me along with her. Either I was becoming used to running with Thayu or I was doubly keen to get out of there, too. Or Thayu was going slowly because she was speaking to someone on her earpiece. Amarru probably.

  We ran back towards the terminal, but just before we got to the building, Nicha veered off to the right past the side of the building. There was a concrete-covered walkway with bushes on both sides. It led to another building which we bypassed across an area of lawn. Behind us, sirens wailed and engines roared. A hoverjet took to the air with screaming engines. The sky lit up with orange light.

  We ran past the building to a concrete area where rubbish bins stood in neat rows. There was a gate on one end.

  Nicha reached it first. He fired his charge gun at the lock from close range. It glowed bright orange and fell to the ground.

  Thayu yanked the gate open. There was a service road at the back, where a car waited.

  The doors opened automatically as we ran up to it. Thayu got in, and I followed her on the back seat. Nicha got in the front.

  “Three of you?” asked the driver in Coldi. I didn’t see his face, but he wore his hair, Coldi-style, in a tight ponytail at the back of his head.

  Well, damn, this looked like the same driver who had rescued us from Eva’s house months ago. Did Amarru have him shadow us or something?

  How the hell did these people know where they were needed?

  As soon as Nicha pulled the door shut, we set off.

  “Who were those guys?” I asked, panting.

  Nicha said, “We’re still checking that. It seems our surveillance picked them up locally not long before the attack. The gyrocopter is a privately registered vehicle belonging to a company that hires it off locally for whale hunting.”

  “Urgh. Do people still do that?”

  “Only the very rich,” Nicha said.

  Seriously. Use a high tech military vehicle to kill an animal? There were plenty of whales, they said. We need to keep the numbers in check or they are a hazard to shipping, they said, especially along the Arctic route.

  We zoomed along the road into town. Emergency vehicles with screaming sirens were going the other way. Fire engines, police, ambulance, more fire engines, even more fire engines. When I looked out the car’s rear window, I could just see all of them turning into the side road to the VIP customer lounge.

  Our car left the dyke and arrived at the island.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “To safety,” Nicha said.

  Dumb question. Mr Wilson. Leave it to the zhaymas and it will all be sorted.

  Nicha was talking to someone in rapid code, and Thayu was reading something on her screen. I got the message. I was the diplomat so I should shut up. They provided communication and security.

  CHAPTER 6

  * * *

  “WHAT, EXACTLY, IS PANAF?” Thayu asked a little later, while the car had settled into a steady speed.

  “What? Is anyone saying that they have something to do with the attack?”

  “Not in as many words, but it’s been mentioned enough times to make me wonder.”

  I glanced at her screen where she was flicking through pages that displayed lists.

  “Where? What are you looking at?”

  “I’m trying to trace the hire of the gyrocopter back to someone who would have a reason to kill you.”

  “And that had something to do with PanAf?”

  “They get mentioned a few times.”

  I couldn’t even get my head around that. “PanAf is like the equivalent of Nations of Earth, but for African states only.”

  “They have armed troops.” It was not a question. She must have read it somewhere.

  “They do. For peacekeeping missions.”

  “They use gyrocopters a lot.”

  “They do. Gyrocopters are faster than helicopters, have a much greater range, and a lot of the territory they cover has marginal services for air traffic at best. Like, landing fields. The fact that a gyrocopter was used in the attack doesn’t mean that PanAf is responsible.” PanAf was actually quite stable, if sluggish, not terribly rich and bureaucratic. Large political swings, point scoring of states against one another and perpetual skirmishes over resources and borders was the domain of the North American states.

  Thayu nodded and continued to read. I didn’t like her silence.

  “Seriously, Thayu, why would PanAf have anything to do with this? If anything, they’d support us trying to find these illegal importers and smugglers.”

  Thayu gave me a pitying stare and said through the feeder, People will do anything for money.

  I protested. “PanAf gets more money from Nations of Earth than it could possibly get from bribery, and its officials get secure, cushy jobs, too. If Asto was involved, yes, I could believe that PanAf could be bribed, but it’s not, and no one else has deep enough pockets on Earth, or a strong enough interest to spend that much money to turn the entire organisation rotten.”

  “You’re sure?”

  I spread my hands and let them sink again. The bottom line was that we didn’t know. We were stabbing in the dark.

  I tried another angle. “It’s well known that Danziger has quite good relationships with PanAf officials. Africa is one of the regions where he doesn’t have to campaign much. As far as I know, the gun Dekker showed us was probably given to him
by someone representing PanAf at Nations of Earth.”

  She nodded again and maintained her silence. What was she thinking with all her spy training? Why wasn’t she saying anything?

  “Anyway, how would PanAf know about my presence here? We don’t even know what Dekker wanted me to do. The brief was supposed to have been on that plane. I don’t see it. I don’t see one reason why PanAf would take open, hostile, criminal action. On this world, shooting down aircraft is a major crime.”

  The latter part of that remark was a joke, but Thayu and Nicha didn’t get it.

  Thayu was now flicking through the news services. She said only, “We have to consider all the possibilities.”

  There was more to it, but she wouldn’t mention a hunch to me unless it was a pretty solid one. That was one of the frustrating aspects of dealing with her.

  I looked at her screen. Some news services already had articles up on the explosion. Flash Newspoint said, Gamra Ambassador Wilson killed in Cowardly Attack.

  Well, that was—ah—interesting. Surely the Nations of Earth guards would have seen that I never got on the jet?

  Thayu said, They would have seen it, but those guards are not likely to have survived the blast. She was talking about the ones who’d been standing next to the plane when it blew up.

  “Then how can the news be certain that I’m dead?”

  Nicha said, “Well, it’s not likely they can check the wreckage for a long time yet, and it’s Flash Newspoint after all. Killed sounds a lot more interesting than missing.”

  True, but it was strange to read your own death notice.

  Nicha continued. “That fire might have been so hot that they’re unlikely to find bodies at all.”

  Also true, but services like Flash annoyed me with their lax approach to the truth. I was wondering if anyone saw an advantage in failing to correct them. Danziger perhaps? Because he wanted me out of the way?