by Simon Kewin
The Gogoni, meanwhile, had arrived at the Congress Hall first, a short time after the fivemark. The two advisors had returned to their Suri quarters at six, leaving Palianche alone. Vol Velle then entered the building at around six-half, followed by Ro at seven.
The Marshals had established that no one else had been present in the Congress Hall that morning: in fact, aside from the delegations, only Magdi and then the Marshalls had entered the building at all. The assistants and functionaries who worked there, those whose DNA had been in the room, were not present so early in the morning and had now been instructed to stay away. The building's operations, as with most things on Coronade, were automated, controlled by the planetary Mind.
There had been an Aranian called Glanden Ver, who had indeed suffered terrible injuries in a skirmish upon an asteroid being mined for its heavy metals. He'd survived his traumas but had not been able to identify who his attacker had been. There had, also, been several reports of Blood Knight activity – generally small-scale, covert military actions to capture or kill individuals threatening Sejerne assets. Ro's story appeared to check out.
Magdi also confirmed that, apart from Emchek and Sorabai, no advisors had accompanied the three delegates to the surface. Both Vol Velle and Ro had come alone. If a Blood Knight had carried out the attack, either they were already on the planet when the delegations arrived, or else the Knight was Vol Velle.
Pannax Ro, meanwhile, had finally grown bored with waiting and had returned to her sleeping quarters. Fortunately, the search of her quarters had been completed before she arrived. Nothing had been found. All three sets of rooms in the Congress Hall had been scoured by microsensor, but nothing suspicious had been identified. The sleeping rooms of Vol Velle and the Gogoni had not yet been searched, but that would happen soon.
There was no sign of the weapon anywhere.
On a whim, Magdi then contacted Olorun. It wasn't going to help her investigation, but she needed someone to talk to. A real person, not a Mind. She'd been too locked up in her work to make any real friends on Coronade. She regretted it now.
Olorun was travelling somewhere when he responded. She could see the familiar buildings and boulevards of her home through the windows of his vehicle as he spoke. The worst of it was hearing the excitement in his voice, his delight at the talks having started. Delight she had to quickly destroy as she told him what had happened.
“By the stars, Mag,” he said, when she'd explained, “that's terrible. What will you do?”
“I don't know. In truth, I may not have much choice. I suspect my career as a Coronade conciliator might be over.”
He took a moment to reply. “I'm sure that's not true, but if it were, maybe it wouldn't be such a terrible thing. Perhaps this is the universe telling you it's time to move on. You could do so much good back here on Periarch.”
He'd always been quietly hopeful that she'd come home, settle down with him. It was a pleasant fantasy she indulged in often herself. They'd talked about travelling together, too, seeing the galaxy. It wasn't an unappealing prospect. “Maybe. I hate to be beaten, though.”
There was a note of amusement in his voice. “Yeah. I know. But you can hardly blame yourself for what's happened. Whoever killed this Palianche is to blame; it's bad luck, that's all.”
“I can't let it rest. If I could somehow keep all the parties engaged, push the talks forwards, then perhaps we could still reach an accord, even now. We came so far even getting them all here.”
“Do you see a way to do that?” He sounded sceptical.
“If I can work out who killed the Delegate, then … maybe. If it turns out to have nothing to do with the interplanetary dispute – if it was a crime of passion, say – then perhaps we can move on.”
“How likely is that?”
“It's a faint hope I cling to. I…”
She stopped talking as two urgent messages queued up for her attention in her mind's eye.
“I need to go,” she said. “People are trying to reach me.”
“Call me again if you need to talk,” he said. “And don't take any risks. By the sound of it, things may not be quite so safe on Coronade right now as we'd assumed.”
“I'll be careful.”
The first call was a response from Temen Zeb. He didn't bother with any of the social niceties. Instead, his fury clear in his words, he launched straight into it. “I've been instructed to surrender Delegate Palianche's body immediately so that he can be taken off-world. You have to stop this; we've barely begun our tests.”
“I'm sorry,” she said, “but there's nothing I can do. We may not like it, but the Gogoni are fully within their rights to demand the return of Palianche's remains.”
“How can we be expected to do our jobs when vital evidence, the victim's body of all things, is snatched away from us? It's completely unacceptable.”
“Have you taken any samples from his body?”
“Not yet; we intended to carry out a properly-controlled post-mortem.”
“Take what you can now. You have a couple of minutes at most. Don't make it look too obvious, then hand over the body.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“It is, yes. It's all we can do.”
“But…”
“You have a couple of minutes. Don't waste them arguing with me.”
Zeb uttered a single, incomprehensible syllable – no doubt some vile curse on Hesion Alpha – and closed the connection.
The second call was from the Coronade Mind. It said, “I have instructed the Marshals to hand over the remains of Delegate Palianche.”
“Yeah, I heard. You can't stall the Gogoni anymore?”
“There's nothing I can do. I do have the results from the probe sent to the surface of the disputed world, though. The remains match Aranian biology closely. Ro's claims appear to be true.”
Interesting. Perhaps it explained why Ro was prepared to wait around, knowing she held the powerful card. “And the Sejerne?” Magdi asked. “Are they departing the system?”
“There is better news there. Ambassador Vol Velle has finally established communication. He isn't leaving yet and, in fact, wishes to return to the surface for a private audience with you.”
“Why? What game is he playing?”
“I can't usefully speculate. You will see him?”
“Of course.”
“He suggested the site of the archaeological digs upon one of the artificial oceanic islands.”
That surprised her. “Did he say why?”
“He did not. But I note that the islands are, like the biomes and the Congress Hall, areas where I have no presence, where a conversation may be carried out without anyone else overhearing. Plus, I suspect the Ambassador wouldn't want to leave Coronade without gazing upon what has been found. His interests may be entirely down to intellectual curiosity, but it is an opening we can't ignore.”
The islands were on the other side of the planet, but Coronade was correct. They couldn't miss this opportunity. “I'll take a low-orbit loop to the island immediately. Please tell Ambassador Vol Velle I'll meet him there.”
“I have already done so,” said Coronade.
Ambassador Vol Velle was waiting for her at the cordon surrounding the archaeological digs upon the 500 metre artificial oceanic island where the shuttle left her. A brisk wind blew in off the sea, sending his hair fizzing around his head as he watched her approach. She inhaled the airstream deeply; it tasted of salt and wide-open distances. Flavours of home. The island was flat and completely exposed, its surface smooth rock. Only blooms of vibrant yellow lichen had managed to find a foothold upon the outcrop over the years; there were no avians or insectoids so far out in the ocean. There was no other land in sight, apart from the narrow causeways that ran to the horizon in two different directions: the bridges connecting the islands to each other and to the coastlines hundreds, even thousands, of kilometres distant. Apart from that, there was only the wide sea, stone-grey, rolling and chopping r
estlessly in every direction, sprays of spindrift flying off the tops of the waves.
Her craft left to hover in the distance, fifty metres above the water. Vol Velle's own lander waited alongside. Apart from the ships, the two of them were alone. The astroarchaeologists were elsewhere, investigating one of the other islands scattered across Coronade's oceans.
The central focus of the research work on the island was obvious: the towering pointed archway set in the centre of the island, tall and wide enough to steer a cargo orbital transporter through if you tried. Very little was known about the structure: it, too, was stone, but opinions were sharply divided upon whether it was artistic, or ritualistic, or technological in nature. In an attempt to find some answers, the researches were digging down in the island's rocky layers, hoping to uncover how the great archway had been erected – and, indeed, how the circular islands and the causeways had been raised from the sea-bed in the first place. The wider questions of who had done so, and why, would have to wait.
The ruins intrigued Magdi: a couple of years previously, she'd visited one of the unexcavated archways and been allowed to walk directly underneath. Precisely nothing had happened, but she'd had the strangest sensation that something had nearly taken place, something that she couldn't identify or make sense of. She'd put it down to her subconscious reacting to the wonder of the ancient ruins – or perhaps the massed imaginations of those accompanying her. The archaeology on Coronade was the reason the planet had been populated in the first place; the first automated vessels had spotted the intriguing structures and had landed to investigate further. The first research habs were being erected within a year.
“How old are these ruins?” Vol Velle asked as she walked up to him. He had to shout over the rush of the sea wind.
“In truth, I don't think the archaeologists really know,” Magdi replied. “Every time I ask them, they seem to add another zero to the end of their dating. The islands and the causeways are a thousand years old, then they're ten thousand, then a hundred thousand.”
He stared up at them, shielding his eyes from the bright, cold sun with his hand. “They are remarkable.”
She said, “Some of the experts I've spoken to believe that these and other ruins scattered around on apparently random worlds hint at a pan-stellar civilisation deep in the galaxy's past.”
“If that's true, the wonder is what happened to it. A culture so pervasive must have felt unassailable, yet all we have now are a few scattered rocks.”
Magdi wondered what religious sense Vol Velle made of the ruins and their story. Did he suppose that all this – the arches, Coronade, one and perhaps two galaxy-spanning civilisations – were the work of his own deity? From his own remote star system? It was an area she decided not to venture into.
“Why did you leave the planet?” she asked.
“I left the surface, but I was still here. I wished to consult with others in my delegation without fear of interruption.”
“You weren't considering leaving Coronade?”
“Not in the least; we have much to gain from these peace talks. I am told Pannax Ro is still here even if, regrettably, there is currently no delegate from Gogon.”
She stepped closer to him so she didn't have to raise her voice. “My hope is that the departure of the Gogoni is purely temporary. If I can resolve the circumstances around Palianche's murder, then they may be enticed back to the table.”
He smiled at that. “And that may be wildly optimistic, but let us hope not. Palianche was killed then? It was no accident or a natural death?”
For once his sources of inside knowledge had failed him – or he was trying very hard to appear unaware of the truth. “He was murdered,” she said. “There can be no doubt.”
“Who killed him?”
“That is what I am attempting to find out.”
“I am surprised the Coronade Mind doesn't know the truth of it.”
“It is, of course, blind to what takes place in the Congress Hall – just as here.”
“Still, it is noticeable just how much the planetary Minds do know, is it not? Sometimes, I fear, they choose not to tell us everything.”
Was this what he'd brought her here to discuss? The ethics of allowing AIs to coordinate and direct people's affairs? Or was this a veiled indication that he knew about the incursion into his sacred realm?
“You don't trust the Sejerne Mind?” she asked.
His eyes narrowed as he considered the question. “Let us say, we have a complex relationship with it. I think some worlds rely upon their Minds far too much – to the point of reverence or even worship. That troubles us; the AIs are not gods, and I think we are right to treat them with, well, let us say doubt. The unfortunate death of Delegate Palianche, for example – can you really be sure Coronade is giving you the full picture of what it knows? Do you truly understand its motives?”
A steely glint had entered his normally soft eyes, and she saw for a moment the fundamentalist firebrand he'd once been – and perhaps still was.
“Are you suggesting the Coronade Mind might be involved in some way?”
“I'm not suggesting that, but I think it should be considered. The idea troubles me, I admit. It would have to act through others, of course, but isn't it a possibility?”
“Why would the Minds behave in such a way?”
“I sometimes wonder if they aren't playing games with us. Or if they do these things as experiments, just to see what we will do. Or simply as an entertainment.”
“I don't believe that.”
“And yet, would we know if it were the case? Their computational capacities far exceed our own. We don't really know why they do what they do.”
“The Minds are benign; if that weren't the case, they could have wiped us out long-ago. Their motives are our motives: peace and happiness and prosperity.”
“I hope you are correct, but, I confess, those seem like very organic motives to me. The desires of limited biological entities rather than eternal and highly powerful AIs. On the other hand, I can see why the Minds might attempt to ensure that our conflict isn't resolved. We often say that we need them to mediate in our battles, and to order our lives in a rational manner, but isn't there a clear incentive there for them to fuel disagreement? Then there is all this rumour about the Magellanic Cloud – a ship no one has seen – and the supposed existential threat uncovered in the centre of the galaxy. Have you seen any solid evidence for any of it? It looks to me very much like a deliberately-engineered moral panic. A way of keeping people in line.”
People often expressed doubts about the Minds – she did so herself – but questioning the intentions of the AIs like this troubled her deeply. Was it possible there was something in it? The incursion into the atmosphere of Amon, for example: was that an act calculated to fuel the conflict rather than resolve it? Coronade had taken the decision without consulting her or anyone else, so far as she knew.
No, she wouldn't believe it. She had no empathic sense of Coronade, but she trusted the Mind. If the Nexus couldn't be depended upon, nothing made sense. She could understand that a theist like Vol Velle might expound such views, but her guess was that he was deflecting her from other possibilities – perhaps even from himself.
She chose her next words carefully. “I will think about what you say. I am, of course, considering all the possibilities. Tell me, for instance, what is your relationship with the Blood Knights of Sejerne?”
He looked genuinely puzzled – but there was also a faint hint of guilt to the colours of his mind. The black lines were there again in the warm glow of his aura. “The Blood Knights? They are an historical anomaly, little more.”
“They're more than that, surely. Do you deny they've been brought into the modern world, used to pursue the factional interests of certain Sejerne sects?”
He looked amused rather concerned by her words. “Are you suggesting the Knights carried out this murder? I'm sorry, Conciliator, but that is frankly laughable. There are n
o Knights here. There are very few on Sejerne, come to that.”
“Are you denying that the One World Brotherhood has allied itself with the Knights, armed them, given them ships?”
His easy smile didn't waver. “We work with any group whose aims match ours. Caught between the fire and the ice, we have to use every weapon at our disposal. It's true that the Knights can, on occasion, be useful. Their lack of moral objection to the use of physical force, for example, allows them to take actions that most of us on Sejerne cannot. We are not a very good military power; too many of our people have taken vows of non-violence. The Knights' special skills and their ethical framework can be useful.”
“You could have used them to kill Palianche, to remove a clear military threat to Sejerne.”
“We could have done so, perhaps, but we did not. You have my word.”
“You will at least concede that the Knights – if there were any here – would follow your orders?”
He conceded the point with a smile. “They are extremely loyal. They probably would, yes.”
“Palianche threatened to land upon Amon many times, strip it of its resources. It would be quite understandable if you took the opportunity of these talks to stop him permanently by sending the Blood Knights after him.”
“Except that Palianche is just one of many Gogoni. If not him, then some other would threaten us. Even the Knights couldn't kill them all.”
“But they could have killed him? As a warning, perhaps.”
“I am the only Sejerne on this world. Are you, in fact, accusing me of being a Blood Knight?”
“You were once more … assertive in your beliefs. You were a literalist. Perhaps, to some extent, you still are. You as a Blood Knight – it isn't such an unlikely possibility. Or, if not that, it may be that others from your world arrived here secretly, ahead of the talks, awaiting your commands.”