Seeds of Earth

would interpret such a move as staking a claim and the

  Hegemony would tend to support that view.'

  'So what material assistance can you offer us?' said

  Pyatkov.

  'Some intelligence, some training for police units, but

  weapons or support equipment - that would be seen as

  technology transfer, which is strictly forbidden under

  multilateral treaty. Look, Mr President, I know this

  seems very unhelpful but you have to be patient and try

  to help the Sendrukans to feel that you're on their side.

  To that end, I strongly advise against appealing to the

  representatives of other nations or blocs for aid - that

  the Hegemony and the Brolturans would regard as an

  unfriendly act.'

  He stood, glancing at the large oval clock on the wall.

  'Now I must take my leave - I am shortly to meet with

  High Monitor Kuros's senior assisters and after that the

  Heracles's first officer.'

  The rest got to their feet, apart from the wheelchair-

  bound president.

  'Thank you for explaining your government's posi-

  tion so candidly, Ambassador,' Sundstrom said. 'We

  shall give serious thought to your observations and rec-

  ommendations. I should also like to consult further with

  you later this afternoon if that is convenient.'

  'I'll tell my office to expect your call, Mr President.'

  A courteously slight bow to either side of the table,

  then he was outside the conference room, following his

  personal attendant round to the main elevator with

  Harry striding along beside him.

  'We// you can't say you didn't leave them wanting

  more,' the AI said, smiling drolly.

  Robert waited until he was alone in the descending

  lift before replying.

  'It's a grave situation, Harry, with the potential for

  turning nasty if the Brolturans get the wrong idea ...'

  He sighed. The Brolturan Compact, like Earthsphere,

  was a close ally of the Hegemony; however, their origins

  as an offshoot of Sendrukan society and their willing-

  ness to act as the Hegemony's military proxy gave them

  a kind of favoured-ally status which amplified both their

  arrogance and their endemic paranoia. Robert had on

  several occasions encountered Brolturan priests and mil-

  itary (which often amounted to the same thing) and

  knew that they would have to be treated with kid

  gloves.

  'Jr wouldn't have hurt to let them know that you

  asked for permission to deploy the marines down here.'

  Robert shook his head. 'It would have softened the

  blow. I want to shock them into the reality of their situ-

  ation and our role here - they can't afford to harbour

  any illusions.'

  'Yes, Robert,' said Harry without a hint of irony. 'We

  can't have illusions getting in the way of stark reality,

  absolutely not!'

  21

  THEO

  Depressed and angry at Horst's response, Theo was

  crossing the Darien Assembly's wide foyer, making for

  the entrance. The three sets of ogival arched double

  doors lay at the foot of a huge mural of the First

  Families done in a variety of woods, their colours care-

  fully arranged. He was a few paces from leaving when

  one of the azure-uniformed government couriers caught

  up with him.

  'Begging your pardon, Major Karlsson, but the pres-

  ident asks if you would care to join him in the

  diplomatic suite.'

  'Did he say what it's about?'

  'No sir, only that you would be glad you came.'

  Theo's frown turned into a smile. More presidential

  hugger-mugger, eh? Well, could be instructive, maybe

  even entertaining.

  'I'm game, lad,' he said. 'Lead the way.'

  The diplomatic suite was a comparatively recent

  extension of the assembly complex. Three levels con-

  structed on pillars at the rear with plush room and

  conference chambers whose big curved windows looked

  out over the Kalevala Gardens. The young courier led

  him to the third floor and past several OG guards to a

  room adjacent to the big, half-domed auditorium at the

  end of the corridor. As the courier smiled and turned

  away, one of the guards opened the door and ushered

  Theo inside.

  It was a long, narrow room with small tables along

  one side. The windows were opaque and the wall-

  mounted uplights gave off a soft yellow radiance. More

  OG guards stood behind Sundstrom, who sat at a table,

  flanked by Pyatkov and Soutar, both of whom looked

  sombre. When Theo entered, Sundstrom smiled at him

  then nodded to a guard officer, who hurried off to the

  other end of the room and left by a second doorway,

  where another guard was on duty.

  'Come and join us, Theo,' the president said. 'This is

  quite a sight.'

  On the table before him was a portable display. From

  a low vantage point it showed a wide section of the

  diplomatic suite's roof, which was marked out with a

  landing grid. Moments later he heard the sound of an

  approaching craft, its engines a blend of deep bass drone

  and high-pitched whine, then a strange, webbed cluster

  of angular modules came into view, the blast of its drives

  sending dust and leaves flying as it banked, straightened

  up and drifted to the centre of the grid. The craft, Theo

  noted, was a uniform dark, matt, coal-like grey, and he

  wondered if that was evidence of stealth technology.

  Then landing legs unfolded and it descended, its entire

  structure flexing as it settled onto the roof.

  'Our guests are disembarking from the other side,'

  Sundstrom said. 'So they'll be with us shortly.'

  'And who are these guests, Mr President?' Theo said.

  'If we're lucky, valuable allies. Otherwise, we may at

  least be able to rely on considerable sympathy.' He

  turned his wheelchair a little. 'My friends, I have a small

  admission to make. For more than two years my admin-

  istration, i.e. myself and a few trusted colleagues, has

  been in touch with officials from the Imisil Mergence,

  one of the nine star nations that make up the loose

  alliance of the Erenate. I have had many exchanges with

  one of their senior diplomats, Javay shtu-Gauhux, a

  Makhori of long and distinguished lineage. Soon after

  we got the first messages from the Heracles he predicted

  that something like this situation would arise and that

  the Earthsphere response would be weak and sub-

  servient to Hegemony interests.' He smiled bleakly and

  spread his hands. 'This meeting is to formalise relations

  between Darien and the Imisil Mergence, but we will

  also be introduced to a representative from the

  Cyclarchy of Milybi, an immense confederation whose

  territory borders the far edge of the deepzone. This

  emissary is from a race known as the Chatha who are,

  I'm told, insect-like in appearance ...'

  Theo knew that the Makhori were an octopoidal

  species, but he wasn't expecting the strange, sma
ll object

  that glided through the doors at the far end, flanked by

  diminutive Gomedran escorts. It was an antigravity plat-

  form with a transparent carapace beneath which the

  Makhori ambassador sat, its long pseudopods nestled

  under an inner rim.

  'My good friend Holger! It is most refreshing to meet

  you face to face at last!'

  The Makhori's voice was a synthesis of Human

  speech but the cadences and emphases seemed slightly

  awry: what made it remarkable was the musical accom-

  paniment, soft, fluty notes that gave an undertone to

  every syllable. As the words were spoken, Theo could

  see one of the Makhori's pseudopods working a little

  panel with a cluster of stubby palps. Theo held back

  from smiling - it was like having your own personal

  orchestra.

  'Ambassador Gauhux, I am most pleased to welcome

  you to Darien,' said Sundstrom. 'I regret that this could

  not take place under more relaxed conditions.'

  'Indeed. It appears that the warmth of your welcome

  is not shared by the Earthsphere forces which are in

  control of your orbital environs. I do not mean that they

  mistreated us, merely that they extended the minimum

  of courtesy and consideration.'

  'I can only apologise, Ambassador.'

  'There is no need - such is only to be expected within

  the ambit of Hegemony influence.' The Makhori's float-

  ing pod turned slightly so that its large oval eyes could

  take in Theo and the others. 'You have companions with

  you, I see.'

  'Yes, Ambassador - may I introduce Mr Pyatkov,

  director of our intelligence service; General Soutar, com-

  mander of the Darien Volunteer Corps; and Major

  Karlsson, my personal adviser.'

  Personal adviser?

  Theo had to focus hard on keeping any surprise from

  showing at this promotion. And from the stiff glance

  Pyatkov gave over his shoulder, he wasn't the only one

  caught unawares.

  'Fellow sentients,' the Makhori said, 'I am very

  pleased to meet you and thereby expand the boundaries

  of my knowledge. Sadly, this must be a brief encounter -

  my travelling companion is a cautious and highly cir-

  cumspect being and wishes to return to our ship as soon

  as possible - ah, he approaches.'

  As Ambassador Gauhux drifted to one side, a pair of

  odd, birdlike creatures, tall and feathery in rich shades of

  blue and ochre, strode in through the doors at the far

  end. They had no wings or arms and in the place of a

  beak they possessed a long, prehensile snout ending in

  four bony fingers. Each one held a glassy, polyhedral

  device whose facets glowed and glittered. The strange

  sophonts calmly pointed these things at everyone in the

  room before facing each other, bowing, and pressing a

  stud on each device. For a moment all were still, then a

  newcomer entered.

  Theo's first thought was that this was an emissary

  from a machine race, going by the four slender metal

  legs, but in the next instant he realised that, like the

  Makhori's antigrav platform, this was a mobile carriage.

  The Chatha was larger and bulkier than the Makhori,

  and although it bore a vague similarity to an Earth-type

  spider, there were some clear differences. Rather than

  hairs on a hard exoskeleton, the Chatha had a leathery,

  greenish-purple hide with a pebbly texture, and instead

  of a low-slung body there was an oval hump which rose

  to a wedge-shaped head with an occipital ridge running

  from the smooth, rounded back of the skull forward to

  a tapered, beak-like proboscis. There was a pair of eyes

  on either side of the head, giving it about 270 degrees of

  vision, Theo guessed, while a curved opening under-

  neath, at the neck, was probably its mouth. The

  Chatha's real legs, he realised, must be quite short and

  had to be interfaced with the powered, mechanical ones

  which extended from the open pod in which it sat. The

  Milybi emissary looked grotesque to Theo and he felt

  uneasy in spite of himself.

  The trunk-armed attendants presented their devices,

  which the Chatha took with its short limbs, examining

  each in turn. Then it stowed them away inside its pod,

  approached the table where the others were waiting,

  and began to speak.

  The words were a stream of liquid vowels pro-

  nounced with a wide range of pitch, then the speech

  changed into a sequence of hard but expressive sounds,

  interspersed with an occasional deep hum. Then sud-

  denly it was speaking Anglic.

  'I am Estimator Jeg-sul-Mur. I greet you in the fair

  language of the Great Cyclarchy of Milybi, in the

  formal tongue of the Chatha, and in your own lan-

  guage. I am deeply gratified to see that none amongst

  you is contaminated with the machine virus which

  afflicts the unwise Sendruka. Similarly, your race

  seems to lack any significant mind-force faculty,

  which for weaker races can be a burden rather than a

  benefit.' The twin eye-pairs considered them all one

  by one, ending with the octopoidal Imisil ambassador.

  'Colleague Gauhux, if you would designate.'

  'With pleasure, Colleague Sul-Mur. This is the fore-

  most leader of the Darien Humans, President

  Sundstrom, and his diligent attendants.'

  Once again a smile laid siege to Theo's lips. While

  'diligent attendant' felt more natural to him, he knew

  that the General thought otherwise, at least going by the

  dark look on her face.

  'President Sundstrom,' the Milybi emissary contin-

  ued, 'I am able to tell you that interlocution between

  your collective and ours is acceptable but not possible

  under these circumstances. And unfortunately, progno-

  sis indicates that the Hegemony or their Brolturan

  proxies will soon seize control of your world and use it

  as a staging post for further strategic expansion

  throughout the deepzone.'

  Theo was taken aback by the emissary's frankness -

  even Sundstrom was visibly shaken.

  'I knew that we faced a perilous situation,

  Estimator,' the president said. 'But you seem to think

  that our cause is lost even before the struggle has

  begun.'

  'I understand your distress,' said the Chatha, tilting

  its long head forward so that all four eyes could regard

  Sundstrom. 'But galactic history is littered with

  instances of the fate of small communities when they

  become an obstruction to powerful hierarchies.

  Perhaps my Imisil colleague has related a few more

  recent and relevant examples.'

  'Estimator Jeg-sul-Mur,' Sundstrom said. 'Your con-

  federation is large and powerful - if we were to appeal

  directly to you for assistance, would you give it?'

  'The Great Cyclarchy of Milybi is indeed large and

  powerful, President Sundstrom, but it is also pragmatic

  and far away - my echelon senior would be swift to

  point ou
t that we have no interests to defend in this

  part of the deepzone.' The emissary paused. 'However, I

  can tell you that your predicament is developing with

  unseemly haste. We have studied the various ploys

  which the Hegemonies or their proxies have deployed

  against a number of victims, and it would appear that

  one or more are in play here. Your world is clearly of

  great value to them and they have in the past proved

  themselves adept at presenting themselves as the injured

  party. I extend my fulsome sympathies but I regret that

  I am unable to offer you any direct support.'

  Theo's growing frustration was diverted by the

  Chatha's final words, which seemed to imply that the

  Hegemony envoy Kuros was behind his own attempted

  assassination. Unless Kuros was a sacrificial pawn in a

  game played by someone else on his own staff ... his

  thoughts spun, trying to assimilate the implications of

  such a conspiracy. But then his critical faculty rebelled -

  how could they locate a skilled marksman (and infiltra-

  tor) amongst the Darien colonists so quickly without

  raising suspicion?

  'I am grateful for your considered remarks, Estimator,'

  Sundstrom said. 'A time may yet come when I can invite

  you to Darien for a longer, more relaxed period.'

  'Against the weight of history I hope that this will

  happen,' said the Chatha. 'I would urge you and your

  trusted echelon to exercise great caution in all of your

  dealings with the Hegemony and any of its servants.

  Alternatively, if you need an escape from encroaching

  jeopardy, I am certain that diplomatic sanctuary may be

  sought with the Imisil delegation . . .'

  'Yes, Holger,' said Ambassador Gauhux. 'This avenue

  is open to you and your immediate circle.'

  'My thanks for this generous offer but my place is

  here on Darien.' Then he laughed. 'Gentlemen, there is

  an old human saying, "It's not over until it's over,"

  which I intend to keep in mind at all times.'

  'I applaud your determination in the face of great

  odds,' the Milybi emissary said, then began to speak in

  the alien tongues again, ending with: i bid you farewell

  in the name of the Great Cyclarchy of Milybi - may the

  Infinite and the Benign watch over you when you walk

  in dark places.'

  Then with the two feathery attendants, the Chatha

  steered its carriage back along the room, retracing those