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
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