by Patty Jansen
Wait, there was an election coming up here as well? Yes, I should have known that. The assembly, including the position of president, was up for re-election every four years. Had it been that long already? It didn’t seem that long—because Ceren years were much longer than Earth years.
“So, I guess gamra membership has finally become an important issue. What are the camps?”
“I was just telling you that. One is a large group of people who don’t care particularly much either way. They’ve seen enough of various gamra people not to be afraid of them—I mean, some of the inner city of London is virtually ninety percent Coldi—and they are never going to afford to travel off world. They may be slightly in favour if it means they’ll be able to buy interesting gadgets as a result of opening imports. They could be swayed the other way by a big scandal.”
Oh. I saw where this was going now.
“Most of the authorities are in favour. Most industrialised countries are tired of dealing with these groups of people that fall outside their laws.”
She let a silence lapse.
“And the ones against?” I prompted.
She sighed. “The Pretoria Cartel. They’re a hotchpotch of powerful groups with strong interests. Countries in war zones who have seen offworld weaponry and fighters get hired by various parties. Countries with natural resources, who see the potential for competition. Industry groups. As you will appreciate, these are powerful lobby groups, and they’re not political activists. They will act in silence, use powerful resources and have very good lawyers. They have a very smart, down-to-earth, figurehead candidate. I suspect you even know her.” Her grey eyes met mine. She looked tired. “Fiona Davidson.”
“What?” I burst out. “Her husband is a criminal.”
“A gun-crazy, too-rich-to-care company executive. None of what he’s done is technically illegal.”
“Travelling on false identities isn’t illegal?”
“They’re not false identities. They are created identities, and yes, there is a big difference. Aliases is perhaps a better word, except it’s not always easy to find out who the alias belongs to. We have, for a long time, allowed people like Nixie Chan to practice law under her assumed name, because no one would recognise her Coldi name. She has a European travel pass that says Nixie Chan that she can legally use everywhere. Her law degree says Nixie Chan, and I bet so does all her legal documentation. Most of the older Coldi residents have an assumed name that is legal on Earth, while their Coldi names have become legal only much later. Even so, it is still common practice for a Coldi child born on Earth to be given two identities at birth. The rule was always: as long as you can prove that both identities are the same person, this was allowed. The cartel took the precedent set by these cases and twisted it around. They created offworld identities for people from Earth.”
“But Amarru would have known—”
“They didn’t use the Athens Exchange. They knew that every day, many new people are registered with the gamra citizen register in Damarq. They knew that you only need to prove that you’re a real person and that either you conduct business or that you have work, own property or have a family on a particular gamra world. Searches for their names did not come up because we are not a gamra world. They put together this data based on the prospective traveller’s real identity, spiced up a bit with some local details. They have vast data mining operations.”
Shit. Data mining. Jasper Carlson.
“They acquire citizenship cards that allow the owner to travel off world without revealing an Earth name. They sell those cards at high cost.”
“Certainly that’s not legal.”
“No, but getting a ruling on that requires Earth and gamra lawyers to put their heads together and what is the likelihood of that happening?”
She was right.
“They also target high-value imports. The diamond trade is one of the most lucrative examples. These people know how to manipulate the market. They created the demand for blue diamonds through clever advertising and they also hold the monopoly on the supply of blue diamonds. No one on the source world cares much about these stones—”
“Not entirely true.”
“Well, maybe they never thought that anyone might, or judged the objections insubstantial. This is a harsh, money-driven group of people who don’t let a few bad cases of exploitation stand in their way. They sell dirty money, they sell dirty energy to marginalised groups.” I remembered the ancient diesel trucks I had seen in Ethiopia. “They don’t want gamra membership because it would take away all their means of income. They package it as fear. What if aliens take over our governments? What if they invade? What if they take all the world’s water? And if something bad happens, this group is going to become vocal, say ‘I told you so’ and will push their candidates forward. If there is a scandal, there is a good chance they will win.”
Shit.
“But certainly murder isn’t legal anywhere?”
“Again proving it and getting a conviction is the hard part. No lawyer is going to be able to get a conviction for the killing of some local person in Barresh.”
“I’m not talking about some local person. I’m talking about Gusamo Sahardjo.”
She met my eyes and said nothing for a while. “Do you have absolute proof that Robertson killed him?”
“Yes.”
“Any that would stand up in court, given by verifiable individuals?”
Well, maybe not. I could see despair in her eyes. She wanted a thread of hope.
She continued to look at me. “Mr Sahardjo’s partner, his parents and sister are in hiding. They asked questions that the group didn’t like. This is how far the tentacles of power of this group stretch.”
“Shit, Margarethe.”
She nodded. “Yes. Shit.” She sighed. “These are not dumb people. They are smart, very rich people. Their budget is bigger than ours, their influence is greater. Of course they hide behind many layers. They use innocent people to carry their political message, like Fiona Davidson. They use faceless mercenary squads to carry out their dirty work, men who, when they are killed, we can’t even identify.”
My heart jumped. Please don’t tell me there are Tamerians here.
But Jasper used Tamerians. One had even saved my life.
“So, thank you for bringing back Robert Davidson and handing him into custody, even though that won’t solve everything. It’s satisfying that we have a few things we can pin on him that will take him off the street for a while.”
“Can his wife even stand against you while he is under investigation, or if he’s convicted?”
“They’ll use another puppet candidate if they think she can’t. At the election, the issue is going to be that big mass of people in the middle, the people who don’t care if Earth joins or not and who are, come August going to vote one way or another. The only way we will win is if we can appeal to them, while the powerful cartel does their best to discredit us or, at the very least, show that our ideas are not in the interest of the people of Earth. We have to win this, Cory.”
CHAPTER 24
* * *
IT WAS CLEAR to me: strong collaboration, legal and otherwise, was going to be required to get a murder conviction. We needed to act quickly. Gather the evidence, bring it to court, call witnesses, wherever they needed to come from. Had any Pengali ever travelled to Earth? If not, Abri would be the first.
Since it didn’t seem appropriate to invite my association into the president’s office, I asked Margarethe to come outside to meet them.
She had seen most of them before, of course, but only as inhabitants of my apartment. They sat on the couches or, in case of Deyu and Reida, on the floor, for the lack of seats.
When I finished the introductions, she said, “That is certainly an impressive team.”
I explained to her that we could, given the right access and permits, unleash Thayu, Deyu and Devlin on the Nations of Earth systems to rat out spy systems. Veyada could
liaise with legal experts. He was reasonably certain that the charge of murder could be made to stick somewhere, especially since it looked like both Robert and Gusamo had used gamra identities. We should find out which were the created identities and persecute them in their own jurisdiction. Having recently qualified as gamra lawyer, Veyada could do that.
“Mind you,” I added. “It may not be possible to make sure that he actually does time in jail, but we can at least prevent him using the Exchange.”
“Oh, when we get a conviction, he will spend time in jail,” Veyada said. “He might even have the choice of facing a jail term here or in Barresh.”
If he was sane, he would choose Earth, because the Barresh jail was notorious for never releasing murderers. They tended to die in jail.
I had to translate that for Margarethe, and she smiled at him. “I think I like this guy.”
“I like him, too. Very much.”
“I also like the idea of getting spying routines out of our systems.”
“That would require my assistants to have access to them. Can you make this happen?” That was a slightly self-centred question. I wanted access to the Earth news again.
“It’s not easy, but I think I can. Let me investigate.”
“We have a bit of time, depending on how long you can hold Robert for. We have an election coming up in a few weeks, and I need to support the candidate I’m sponsoring.”
“It’s an election year for you, too, huh?”
“It certainly is. And you know the candidate. Marin Federza. He has a really good chance of getting the position. Hopefully, gamra will be a bit more stable then.”
“That’s good, because I fear the opposite for us. Our election is in August. Gamra membership is a very volatile issue, and public opinion could easily switch either way.”
I nodded. I knew. I had lived on that line between Nations of Earth and gamra for years, until I went to work for Ezhya. It was a finely balanced and at times hostile environment.
“There are a number of hot-button topics that we have to deal with.”
“Religion,” I said.
She nodded. There were no more words necessary. People still believed that gamra would have an antireligious agenda. That argument was just not going away, no matter how much I tried to disprove it.
“If there is anything I can do . . .”
“Yes, while you’re here, I’d like you to address the plenary session of the assembly,” she said.
My heart jumped. This was something I’d signed up to do when I first accepted my position: give a report of my six-month tenure to the assembly. Because of the events that had transpired back then, and because Ezhya had taken over my contract, that had never happened.
I’d always wondered how my speech, had I gotten the opportunity to make one, would have been received.
“Is there anything in particular you’d like me to address?”
“Just your perspective on the reasons for joining and what it will mean for ordinary people.”
“I can do the first. In all honesty, I haven’t lived as an ordinary person on Earth since I was ten. I don’t think my contribution on that front will be valuable.”
“Fair enough. Stick with your perspective then. I’ll schedule you for this Wednesday.”
“Uh, what day is it now?” That was my alienation from Earth speaking right there.
“Monday. I’ll schedule you for a voice coach, too.”
I frowned at her. “Voice coach?”
“In this speech, I don’t want to hear any of that Coldi accent you’ve got.”
I was going to protest with Me? Coldi accent? But I realised she was probably right.
I rarely spoke Isla anymore. I thought in Coldi, I dreamed in Coldi. I was looking into a procedure that would turn me effectively Coldi. This shouldn’t come as such a surprise to me.
But ouch, it was certainly sobering.
I said that I’d be there at whatever time she required me, and then an employee came in to tell us that he would take us to our accommodation.
This accommodation was a unit inside the compound, not terribly far from where I used to live as a boy with my father and Erith. Since it was morning in New Zealand, I rang him.
He was not entirely surprised that I was in Rotterdam.
“There have been rumours of the blue diamonds coming from Barresh for many years. It doesn’t surprise me at all, and I doubt it’s the only such scheme.”
Sadly, I agreed with him.
The line was probably bugged, so I asked him about the horses and the camels. They were fine, he informed me, but they were in the midst of a rabbit explosion. Erith had taken to making rabbit pies.
I told him we’d visit soon, and I meant it. I wanted to tell him in person of my decision to go ahead with gene treatment if it became available.
When I went upstairs to where everyone was asleep, I looked out the window in the stairwell. Outside in the snow stood a guard.
Thayu woke up when I wormed myself into the unfamiliar bed, after having tripped over a chair.
“Things have changed a lot here,” she said.
“How?” I agreed, but was unable to put my finger on why.
“Everyone is nervous. Everyone is trying to protect their little patch of ground. Everyone thinks that everyone else is an enemy.”
“Yeah. We’ve brought Robert, but there are a lot more like him. This is only a small part of the problem.”
“As is always the case.”
We were silent for a while. I tried to get comfortable on the strange pillow with a strong smell of soap. The blanket was quite thin, I thought. Thayu wasn’t cold because she was wearing her temperature retaining suit.
“Did you hear what Margarethe said about me?”
“I think I missed that.”
“She said that I have a Coldi accent.”
Thayu chuckled, but she said no more. I was sure she understood my dilemma, and I knew she would give me the time to work it out.
We were silent for a bit, and then I said, “I’m going to have to get out of bed again. This blanket is too thin. I’m cold.”
“We all know how to solve that.”
“Haha.” I did get out of bed. I had to turn on the light, found a thick blanket and put that over the bed. Thayu took off her suit and it got very warm under the blanket.
Fortunately, it gets light very late in Europe in early February.
* * *
Addressing the assembly at Nations of Earth involved just as much preparation as it did at gamra, if not more, due to my unfamiliarity with the process.
I saw Margarethe’s voice coach the next day, a middle-aged lady who told me that my accent had acquired a lot of Coldi intonation and made me repeat sentences until I sounded like one of the Nations of Earth high society set. It reminded me of Eva and her dinner parties, and other things I didn’t want to be reminded of.
I came back to lunch in the accommodation.
“You’re grumpy,” Thayu said. “Why are you grumpy?”
“This woman is trying to turn me into some kind of high-class stodgy delegate. Why should I speak like all of them? Why should I take my earring out? Why should I cut my hair?”
“Is that what she told you?”
“Yes.”
“Because that is the way they want to see you. They’re happy for you to wear the blues, but everything else needs to look as if you’re one of them.”
She was right. I went to stand by the window. That guard was still outside, standing in the snow that didn’t look half as pristine during the day as it looked at night under the light of the moon.
Was that man there because we needed protection, or was he there so that we didn’t go anywhere and contact anyone that Nations of Earth might not like?
Both, probably.
Or maybe I was seeing ghosts everywhere.
I sighed. “Well, screw them. When I walk in there, I will do so as someone who was born in New Zealand, w
ho spent most of his life off-Earth, who is fluent in Coldi and spends more time speaking that than Isla, someone who is a member of the Domiri clan, and someone who cares about peace and cooperation. If they don’t like that . . .” I spread my hands. I didn’t know what would happen if they didn’t like that. They probably didn’t.
I couldn’t help that. I didn’t want to pretend to be what I was not.
Veyada said, “Whatever happens, we will be there.”
And that was the bottom line. They were my association and they supported me, unconditionally.
* * *
I didn’t just decide to ignore the voice coaching; I went a step further. I decided that I would go into the assembly hall with my full association in full regalia. I’d have Nicha and Thayu on either side of the speaker’s dais if they could get that far. I wanted the others, too. Veyada in his white lawyer’s gown and Sheydu in black, as well as Reida and Deyu in gamra colours.
On the morning of the speech I told them all to prepare and look their very best. I caught Deyu and Reida in the bathroom slicking each other’s hair down so not single strand escaped their ponytails. Veyada performed Eirani’s task for me. He combed and plaited my hair, brushed hair and dust off my shoulders and arranged my jewellery. Then I did the same for him, combing and tying up his thick hair with its typical metallic sheen.
I was probably more agitated and nervous than any of them, but I tried very hard not to let it show. If anything, I had never expected my first-ever address to the assembly to be like this, from the outside looking in.
We walked through the compound, past the school, across the lawn where I used to play and that seemed to have become much smaller. We went up the ramp to the hall’s forecourt, where driverless cars queued up to deliver assembly delegates to the meeting. Some of the trees in front of the assembly hall were no longer there. Others had grown much bigger. We followed the stream inside. The guard at the door looked on with wide eyes as our party came up to the door.
Predictably, he needed to check with his supervisor whether we could all get through. Was I a member? No. Did I fall under visiting dignitaries? If so, what was the status of my companions?