Ambassador 2: Raising Hell (Ambassador: Space Opera Thriller)

by Patty Jansen

  “Ouch!” That was very low on my back.

  “Raanu!” Thayu warned.

  There was a tense silence in which I couldn’t see what went on behind me. The drying resumed. When Raanu came to the front, she was pouting.

  After a while, Thayu said, “Now we’re done. Get his clothes.”

  Raanu bowed awkwardly and took a neatly-folded bundle of cloth from a set of shelves behind her. She gave them to me with that same stiff little bow.

  I said, “Thank you.” I had to clamp my jaws in an effort not to laugh.

  She went to stand next to Thayu, and Thayu ruffled her hair.

  I got up and unfolded the bundle.

  Someone had washed my clothes and rinsed my temperature suit. I stuck my hand inside the pocket—empty.

  Thayu pulled something from her pocket. “If you’re looking for this, I took the liberty to remove it before the zeyshi got their hands on it.” She held up the package with the explosive and detonator that Sheydu had given me.

  “Thanks.”

  “How did you get it? Sheydu?”

  “Yes.”

  “That figures. She’s an explosives specialist. Hang onto it. That’s good stuff. We might be able to use it later.”

  I pulled my clothes on. Thayu handed me the helmet, which had been cleaned.

  “Careful with the tank. It’s been filled up. This fill should last you longer. Zeyshi have always been pretty good at finding nifty cooling systems. Put it on. The sooner we’re out of here, the better.”

  “Am I allowed to leave?”

  “The nurse says it’s all right,” Nicha said.

  I took the tank and jacket from him and almost dropped it. All this gear was so incredibly heavy.

  Nicha put a hand on my shoulder. “Are you all right, Cory?”

  “Yes. Just . . .” I leaned over, trying to dispel the dizziness.

  “It’s not that far from here to a fissure where Thayu has a contact with an aircraft. You only need to last that far.”

  I struggled with the jacket. It was inside out and the straps to hang the tank were tangled.

  Get out. Go home, to safety and a place where I wasn’t at risk of being cooked inside my skin.

  Wait.

  What was I doing? Think, Mr Wilson, think.

  We were at a zeyshi stronghold. Zeyshi had made a claim on Asto. Ezhya wanted me to go and talk to them. Taysha certainly would never do that.

  “What is it?” Thayu asked.

  “I can’t leave right now. I need to speak to the zeyshi leaders first.”

  Nicha frowned at me. “I would prefer to get out of here as soon as possible. Besides, I don’t know if this is the right time—”

  “I don’t know if there will ever be another time. By all accounts, Taysha is about to take over the leadership, but the claim on Asto made by the zeyshi still stands. Gamra is going to have to deal with it. No one from gamra can visit the zeyshi to assess their claims, certainly not when Taysha takes over, and when he takes over, zeyshi won’t be allowed to travel either. Federza and the Barresh group don’t represent these claimants at all. Taysha very much disagrees with visits from non-Coldi. I must do it quickly, while I’m here.” I looked from Nicha to Thayu.

  “Then I will arrange it,” Nicha said. His face went blank.

  I swear he gave a little bow before turning around and walking out the room.

  “Nich’?”

  He looked over his shoulder.

  “Please, don’t . . .” behave like that, or act like a servant. I spread my hands. There was so much I wanted to say, but every time I thought I was getting close to understanding the Coldi psyche something like this thwacked me square in the face. I couldn’t get my head around the thought that the man I had considered my best friend for many years suddenly started treating me as a superior.

  Nicha pointed. “The head nurse is at her station right now. I’ll be back soon.”

  I sighed and let my shoulders slump. Nicha, please. I didn’t want to lose him to this stupid custom.

  Thayu massaged my neck. Her hands radiated warm and dry heat.

  I looked over my shoulder into her gorgeous eyes, wanting to be alone with her to sort this mess out. I didn’t want them to be subservient to me. That kind of behaviour was a step back. You became more intimate with someone when you were closer to them, not the other way around.

  But likely neither of them would understand. They would think this was a good development, that an association strengthened us as a unit and—

  They were right, in their own way, and I was sending them all kinds of mixed messages. I paid out Thayu’s contract, I was sending Taysha a writ, I’d gotten rid on my facial hair. I was sending them—and everyone else—messages that I wanted to be considered Coldi. Even Nicha was telling me that it had to be one or the other. I could behave like I was Coldi and accept it, or I could continue to fight it. I knew what Nicha and Thayu would prefer.

  Damn.

  Thayu’s fingers had moved up to my shoulders. Her palms and fingertips were like little heat pads kneading my skin. “You’re not taking adaptation medication?”

  Normally, Coldi would take it on short trips, because if their bodies went into adaptation to adjust their internal temperature, they could be quite ill for a number of days.

  “I’ve been across enough times that I’m getting used to quick adaptation. I really don’t like taking that stuff. Gives me nightmares.”

  I nodded. Didn’t I know about that.

  The only people left in the room were three other patients and us. Two of them were old, Coldi, and the deeply bronzed, dust-engrained skin screamed zeyshi louder than anything else could. One appeared to have a broken leg, the other’s face was covered in a face mask. Both men eyed me suspiciously.

  The third patient, next to the room’s only exit, was a young woman. She lay in a similar basin to mine, head slightly raised, eyes closed. The cloth that had covered my private parts lay over her pregnant belly and an apparatus next to the bed spread a constant stream of drops onto the cloth.

  Her breasts were swollen and looked painfully firm. Tangles of tubes lay around her, including a couple of them that disappeared between her legs. Neither Thayu nor Raanu seemed overly interested, but for me, as a prude earthling, it was kind of confronting and embarrassing, yet I couldn’t not look.

  “Her child is Aghyrian,” Thayu said in a low voice. “Apparently when they allow Coldi to carry these pregnancies naturally, almost all the girls abort.”

  “She looks ready to burst.”

  “This afternoon.” Her eyes met mine longer than necessary, and I could no longer stand the questions hovering in her expression.

  “Did you hear me tell Nicha what Taysha said about you?”

  She nodded.

  “You are not having anything to do with that man.”

  “But he’s right about the allocation, and he did spend a lot of money testing me.”

  “You are not giving in to his demands.”

  She looked down.

  “Thayu?”

  I reached out and touched the sensitive skin on her neck. I was aware of Raanu watching, otherwise I would have kissed her. I pushed her chin up with my thumb.

  “Thayu, if you want a child, I’ll find a donor. I’ll pay for the contract with the man. We will have the whole process done artificially, and the child will live with us.”

  “But . . .”

  “That way, you’ll cease to have any value to Taysha, and you’ll be happy.”

  A brief smile crossed her face, in which I saw the Thayu I loved so much. Then she said, “What about you?”

/>   “I’m fine with that, I . . .” am not particularly desperate to pass my genetic material to the next generation. Goodness knew there were enough faults in my genetic code already.

  “I couldn’t ask you to—”

  “Yes, you can, I’m serious. If you want, we’ll start the process when we come back.”

  She made a small, soft noise. Her eyes glittered. With one hand, she held Raanu, and with the other she took mine. She squeezed my hand and gave me a heart-stopping smile. The tear rolled over her cheek.

  Suddenly, I felt all choked up inside. What sort of society allowed women to be used as breeding receptacles without the right to look after their own children?

  I was going to do the right thing by Thayu and truly free her from this man’s demands. If that meant a writ, then so be it. He was challenging me to play? I would play.

  Veyada and Sheydu came into the ward.

  Both of them greeted me in the subservient position. “Delegate,” Veyada said in a low voice, speaking in the general direction of his chest. I didn’t like this, oh boy how I didn’t like it. If they now thought I was superior to them, how could they ever return to Ezhya?

  Thayu jumped into position. Some looks were exchanged between her and the guards that I didn’t understand.

  Then Veyada said, “The Delegate is invited.”

  Nicha had sent them? This was getting ever stranger.

  They and Thayu led me out of the emergency room into a neat and well-lit passage where Nicha waited in the company of a stout Coldi man, who had so many zeyshi tattoos on the visible parts of his skin that it was hard to make out his face. His eyebrows were exaggerated, the parts above his eyes were vivid green. Vicious spikes extended from below his eyes over his cheeks.

  He wore a dark grey shayka and a magnificent belt with thorns and native flowers embroidered in silver thread. He did not bow or look down, but stuck his chin in the air—the skin bronzed—an action which made his little plaits dance around his head.

  His eyes were almost black.

  He set off down the passage without speaking a single word.

  I knew this whole area was underground but it looked curiously like many hospitals and medical centres I’d seen anywhere within gamra, if possible more modern than that. So much for zeyshi being primitive and poor.

  Then a chilling thought: had any off-world Aghyrian money gone into this?

  Damn. That possibility chilled me no end. While I was negotiating with Federza, another sub-set of Aghyrians funded the zeyshi to destabilise Asto society.

  We passed an assessment area where doctors sat in alcoves assessing patients. Some patients were zeyshi, but many were not. They looked like the mushroom farming folk we’d seen in the aquifers. I even spotted some people in Circle dress, probably Eighth.

  Unlike in the Inner Circle, life continued as normal, unaffected by the continued Exchange outage, and there were no guards anywhere.

  How far did the influence of the zeyshi reach? I’d never heard Ezhya speak about them. I’d heard other Coldi figures of authority speak about them only in derogatory terms.

  An Aghyrian claim on Asto would probably be thrown out if unsupported by the Barresh Aghyrians, but the zeyshi had a valid claim on Asto. They’d suffered a long and well-documented record of discrimination and ill treatment, and if they teamed up with the Aghyrians, they could form a powerful bloc . . . independent of the Aghyrian section in Barresh. This was weird and scary and very interesting all in one.

  From the hospital passage we entered an older tunnel, then went down a spiral staircase with treads so worn, I had to hand the tank to Nicha to free my hands for the handrail, or I’d end up in a heap at the bottom. The staircase wound down into a stone-paved hall where many footsteps had worn a path from the stairs to an arched doorway. Outside this doorway were the first two guards I’d seen in this underground warren. Both zeyshi, they wore pale yellow shaykas, each with a black belt and silver embroidery.

  They held Ezhya’s two guards back, standing out as they did in their silver suits and sashes.

  Some hand signals were exchanged.

  Sheydu said, “Delegate, our host requires that we stay here. This is the only entrance into this room. We will wait here until you return.”

  The zeyshi guard made another hand signal, one I didn’t get.

  “He says to leave the girl here, too.”

  “Nooo!” Raanu clung to Thayu’s arm.

  Thayu crouched so that she was face-to-face with Raanu. “We won’t be long.”

  “Don’t leave me with the nasty lady.”

  Sheydu shot her an angry look. Heavens, what had she done to deserve this treatment from Raanu?

  Thayu took Raanu’s face between her hands. “Do you want to be big and brave like your father?”

  Raanu nodded.

  “Then you stand here quietly with the guards. They are not going to hurt you or they’ll be in big trouble with your father or with the Delegate.” She gave me a sideways look that said, Put on your angry face. I tried not to laugh.

  Sheydu rolled her eyes.

  “You’ll come back soon?” Raanu asked, wide-eyed.

  “Yes, we will. We’re going to a meeting. It’s boring. There will be only adults talking.”

  Raanu eyed Sheydu wearily. “But it will be boring here, too.”

  “The man says you can’t come in.”

  The sharp black-eyed gaze went to the zeyshi guard. Oh, this girl would not miss anything, even if it was only adults talking about boring things.

  The zeyshi clearly knew who she was.

  “If you behave nicely, I’ll give you a lesson in wrestling.”

  Raanu face grew emotionless. She snapped into position in front of Sheydu, straightened her back and held her arms stiff to her sides.

  “All right now?” Thayu asked the zeyshi guide, who returned a terse nod.

  I acknowledged the guards with another hand signal. Raanu had already forgotten that she was supposed to be quiet and was asking Veyada to explain the hand signals to her.

  He seemed to be handling her well enough so I followed the guide through the doorway.

  Inside a cavernous room a number of people were sitting around a table. Many were elderly, some were Coldi, and some Aghyrian. Most of them wore shaykas. I recognised none of them.

  Facing the door in a high-backed chair sat a fierce-looking Coldi woman, broad-shouldered and tall. Her skin was rough as leather and deeply tanned. She wore a full shayka, fabric crossed at the front, complete with the embroidered belt. Her bare arms bore the zeyshi tattoos of black thorns and stylised flowers.

  She met my eyes and held my gaze in a cold, emotionless look. I imagined Natanu would look like her in middle age.

  Four seats were still empty. Three for myself, Nicha and Thayu . . . and was there another person still coming?

  On the table stood a veritable feast of colourful dishes in equally colourful bowls. A serving boy walked around the far side of the table unloading more dishes from a tray. The smell of food—strong and spicy—hung in the room.

  There came the sound of footsteps on stone and a moment later an elderly Coldi man entered the room, alone.

  Both Thayu and Nicha snapped into subservient positions.

  He looked around the gathering until his gaze stopped with mine. He had to be the oldest Coldi I had ever seen. He was thin, his hair was white and his robe, also white, hung from his shoulders like a potato bag. Around his waist he wore a thin red belt.

  Damn, this was Risha Palayi.

  What the hell was he doing here?

  He nodded to me, showing no sign of irritation that most people in the room, including m
e, didn’t greet him in the traditional way. One of the guards from outside pushed the door shut behind him. Risha walked around the table, attending to each person one by one, touched their shoulders and patted their cheeks. While he did this, his face was kind and expression serious. No one moved; no one spoke.

  All the people greeted him with reverence, with bright faces and subservient body language, even the zeyshi.

  He completed the lap around the table and came to us. With a gnarled finger, he pushed up Thayu’s chin so that she looked him in the eyes. “Peace, sister, all will be sorted out.”

  To Nicha, he said, “You are the steadying force in your family.”

  Then he faced me.

  “So. Ezhya did send you here, as he suggested. I heard a lot about you.”

  Was it good or bad? I dipped my head, acknowledging him. I did not do this subservient greeting thing unless I absolutely had to.

  Risha continued, “You’re a strange fellow, oddly stubborn. Maybe even more stubborn than Ezhya, if that is possible. I do not say this lightly. Stubbornness is a rare quality. Weak is the sand that drifts with the stream.”

  Coldi loved their proverbs.

  I nodded again, acknowledging the compliment. At this point, a Coldi would rattle the originator of the proverb. I knew a few proverbs with names of the person they were ascribed to, but I had never heard this particular one.

  Risha waved his hand and said to everyone, “Be at ease. Sit down. This is not the time or place for formalities.”

  We sat with the others. Risha took his spot next to the zeyshi leader; Thayu, Nicha and I the chairs on the side of the table closest to the door.

  I couldn’t help it, I instantly liked this man. I knew I shouldn’t trust my human instincts, much less make decisions based on them, but Risha had just calmed me in all the ways in which Taysha, Asha and Natanu riled me.

  The fact that I ended up opposite him at the table was probably not a coincidence.

  The zeyshi rebel leader was studying me. To her right sat an older woman, tall, slender and white-haired. She reminded me strongly of Chief Delegate Akhtari, even with her black eyes and dark skin.

  Aghyrian.