by Neil Davies
She could hear Felton, shouting at Carlton to get down, shouting at the others to get up and move. She could see the logic. The Leader was too clear a target while he stood and the others cowered on the floor. Felton wanted the human shield in place again. Well, she too could lead by example.
She pushed herself to her feet, determined to stand alongside Carlton. Perhaps she could shame the others into following her? She knew in that moment that she desperately wanted Carlton to live. Despite the preparations and the thought she had given to surviving into any new regime that might rise she realised now, with a shocking clarity, that she enjoyed her situation with Carlton. The thought of becoming the official mistress to a new Leader was both hateful and unbearable. She turned to the politicians around her and screamed at them to get up.
Hesitantly, some of them started to move, started to stand. She could see it in their eyes, hatred, contempt at the way she was shaming them into risking their lives. How could they stay huddled on the floor when the Leader's official mistress, a person of little significance in their world of power and politics, stood bravely at his side? The human shield was rising.
Too late!
Blood spattered Carina's dressing gown as the first bullet gouged a bloody furrow through Carlton's shoulder. The gun dropped from his hand, clattering noisily on the floor even in the clamour of the battle.
She turned to him, reaching out, as the second and third bullets thudded into his chest, explosive charges shattering his ribs, pulverising his heart.
Leader Carlton was already dead as the final symbolic touch span through the air towards him.
Carina heard the swish, the susurration of air. She turned. Something was flashing through the air. She felt the breeze of its passing as it narrowly missed her head.
The bolargo wrapped itself almost elegantly about the Leader's neck, the heavy wooden hand-grips at each end crossing and re-crossing each other, the serrated wire between them twisting and sawing. It snapped shut, the wire untangling, straightening itself, dropping to the floor at her feet.
She watched, stunned and speechless, as Carlton's head toppled sideways, rolling off his shoulders, bouncing hideously on the floor, coming to rest against the wall, his sightless eyes staring at her, blood spurting from the severed arteries.
As his body collapsed in a bloody fountain, she found her voice and screamed.
Chapter 34
Suzex sat on the only chair in the otherwise empty room. It moulded itself to his body and began to gently massage his back. He noted the logo in the arm.
Reagold Corporation. A rare import no doubt.
He had arrived on Szuilta less than fifteen minutes ago, his fast ship having been allowed through the cordon of Szuiltan escorts constantly patrolling nearby space. One of the translator globes had led him into this building and then this room. He had not given any reason for his visit, nor had he asked any questions. The Szuiltans did not need the former and would not give answers to the latter. There had seemed little point in pursuing either.
Now he waited for an audience with the Szuiltan President.
He had met the President twice before, but the prospect of another meeting still made him nervous. Suzex was a proud man, proud of his strength, proud of his courage and his intelligence. The Szuiltan President was the only creature he had ever faced that made him nervous. Except, perhaps, for Miar Shrilor.
Thoughts of Shrilor fired the rage that still burned inside him. That bastard Lescight! One day he would have his revenge on Shrilor and on all those arrogant, self important, self appointed guardians of so called right and justice, the Trading Inner Council. Shrilor had retired, so he had heard. Well, there were ways of bringing him out of retirement.
A door dissolved in the far wall and Suzex rose from his chair. It would be discourteous to receive the Szuiltan President seated.
First through the door were two Bosens. Suzex had guessed as much, partly because they always preceded the President and partly because he could smell them before they entered. They stood one either side of the door and were followed by a translator globe, floating some six feet off the ground, undulating and pulsing as it approached within three feet of Suzex.
The President of Szuilta followed silently.
Suzex had never been able to surmise whether the flotation was natural or technological. The President’s jelly-like form spread shapelessly into the space ahead of him, shimmering and undulating like an enormous water droplet held together only by surface tension. He didn't so much float as pour himself from one position to the next.
Suzex cleared his throat and waited. He knew from past experience that the President would not pause long before speaking, and that when he did speak it would be of importance. He was not one for prevarication.
"Welcome Mr Suzex. I hope the news is good?"
Although the voice emanated from the translator globe, a large bubble pulsed on one side of the Szuiltan President with each word.
"Very good Mr President." Why did this alien unnerve him so much? He had met creatures of all kinds in his life, some even worse looking than this Szuiltan, yet there was a barely hidden and massive potential for danger and violence in the Szuiltans that even a man of Suzex's history felt wary of. Plus the simple and unavoidable fact that the Szuiltans were both alien and intelligent.
" Has this Mayor of Aks agreed to our proposals?"
"Mayor Lane has agreed that Szuiltan help is essential for him to gain the power he desires. That, at present, is all he needs to know. He's a coward, Mr President, and will be easily persuaded to our way of thinking should that be necessary."
"Coward?" There was a momentary pause. Suzex had found very few words that the Szuiltan translator globes could not understand, but occasionally they seemed to have to search for the ideal translation. "Ah, yes. A human who fears death. Do you not fear death Mr Suzex?"
"In humans, Mr President, only fools do not fear death, but the best of us control that fear. A man like Mayor Lane lets that fear control him. He is easily frightened and led where we want him to go."
"Good. We will have an advance force of Bosens and globes prepared immediately."
There was a pause as the President poured himself closer to Suzex, who had to fight the urge to step backwards. There was something almost conspiratorial in the approach that made Suzex want to smile, despite the nervous twisting in his stomach. It was as if the Szuiltan was playing at human forms of expression.
"What of the treaty Mr Suzex?"
Suzex could have sworn the globe was trying to whisper. The sibilance had increased, the volume decreased. It was like listening to a small child learning to use its voice.
"We have reports of disturbances on Armistice. The broadcast news is vague, do you have more detail?"
"My agents have reported in, Mr President. The assassination attempts have been completed. Leader Lane of Aks is reported dead. Unfortunately, the Earth Controller still lives."
Suzex could have sworn the globe snorted in disgust. He hesitated a moment but, when no words were forthcoming, he continued.
"However, that does not radically change the plan. The indications have been left. Even the military machines of Earth and Stain should be able to follow them."
"Good. Everything seems to working well, Mr Suzex. Is this your impression?"
"Yes, Mr President. Everything is on track."
Suzex paused. There was one thing that had been nagging at his mind since he arrived.
"Mr President, may I ask a question?"
"Ask."
"When I arrived, I noticed another ship, another human ship, on the spaceport."
"Ah, the trader. Yes. We have two other human guests here at present. Traders, or at least one trader and an administrator who seems to wish for the trading lifestyle again."
"An administrator?" Suzex's mind whirled. He knew the way the T.I.C. worked. This would be so typical of them.
"We suspect the administrator is an agent of this Trad
ing Inner Council you told us about. All our data points to the other being a genuine trader."
"It would be just like the Inner Council to send an agent with an unsuspecting trader as cover. They see such obvious tactics as clever." Suzex smiled. "Where are they now?"
"They are secure. We supplied drinks to them which were drugged and they are now asleep. This is standard for us. It saves having to deal with curious or frustrated humans while the cargo is unloaded, checked and stored."
"How long will the drug last?"
"Until we decide to wake them."
"May I make a request?"
"Ask."
"I don't think it would be wise to let the agent leave Szuilta alive, but if you will give me the pleasure of dealing with him, I can send a message back to the T.I.C. with this trader."
"This is personal?"
"I think it will serve both our purposes."
There was the briefest of pauses before the globe responded.
"The agent is yours."
Chapter 35
It was impossible to say what woke him, but Jack was suddenly wide awake. A glance showed that Steve was also recovering from an unexpected sleep..
"I didn't realise I was so tired," yawned Steve. "I remember taking a drink and then..."
"You woke up," finished Jack. "Me too."
Coincidence? Jack doubted it. He glanced towards the empty cup on the table. Drugged? Possibly. But he knew of no drug that could be so perfectly controlled that two different people, taking different quantities of the drug, would wake up at exactly the same time.
Steve wiped a hand over his face.
"It's so dry in this place. Haven't they ever heard of air conditioning?" He reached for the still half full cup near him.
"Don't!" shouted Jack. "Not unless you feel like sleeping again."
Steve looked at his friend, looked at the cup in his hand and slowly put it down.
"I don't think I like this place very much," he said. "Do you think they'll be long getting the cargo sorted?"
"I think they've probably finished," said Jack. Why else wake us up now?
He watched his friend for a moment as he began to pace up and down in the centre of the room. He had to try one more time.
“Could I ask you again to consider…”
“No Jack,” snapped Steve, stopping his pacing, irritation and more than a little fear stretching his nerves to breaking point. “I’m not spying for you. You’re not dragging me down with you. I’m sorry but…”
“It’s ok Steve,” sighed Jack. “I understand, really I do. Forget it.” And when we get back to Sellit, the Council will make sure you do.
"I just want to get back to Sellit," said Steve, starting his pacing again. "I know this is good money but I just want to get home and out on a less… unusual trade."
"It won't be long now," said Jack, more to himself than to Steve.
Is Suzex involved? Is Suzex here? Am I ready for him if he is? It was a thought he could not entirely push out of his mind. The spectre of Suzex loomed large in the nightmares and, paradoxically, the ambitions of all T.I.C. field agents.
Both men were startled as a door dissolved in the wall. Jack noted that it was a different wall than the one they had entered by. Apparently doors on Szuilta had no fixed position.
A globe floated in, stopping just inside the room. Jack and Steve exchanged a glance and then waited in silence.
"The cargo is unloaded and checked. Your ship is free to leave. Thank you for your trade."
"No, no, thank you for your hospitality," said Steve.
Jack smiled. If the globe recognised the sarcasm in Steve's voice it didn’t show it. It reversed silently out of the room and waited in the corridor beyond. After only a moment's hesitation, Jack and Steve followed. The wall sealed behind them.
"I'll never get used to that," said Steve. "I hope that's one bit of technology Reagold never get their hands on."
"I must admit," said Jack, "I'm feeling homesick for doors that look like doors."
"And you know just exactly where they are."
They fell silent and followed the globe down the narrow, opaque walled corridor.
So much for my mission, thought Jack. A complete failure. I've found out nothing, except that the Szuiltans are way ahead of us technologically and that they don't like to take the risk of any visitors wandering around. The Council will be pissed!
The route was different, the slope indiscernible, but Jack felt that they were heading down towards the spaceport. The corridor, like before, was featureless. There was no information to be gathered here.
A door dissolved ahead of them and they exited the building onto the spaceport clearing. It puzzled Jack slightly to see that they exited from a different building to the one they had originally entered.
When did we cross into another building?
Szuiltan architecture was a mystery he felt he would never solve.
The Seven Deadly Sins sat on the ground not far from them, squat, ugly and the most beautiful sight Steve had ever seen.
"Larn, I'm looking forward to getting behind those controls again and flying her myself, not by remote control." Steve turned and smiled at Jack.
Jack did not return the smile.
Something's wrong. I can feel it. But what? And from where?
"Are you ok?" Steve's voice held genuine concern. "You look pale. Look, just make it to the ship and we'll be away. You'll feel better then."
Jack forced a smile. "I'll be fine. It's just a long time since I've been trading I guess. Just felt a bit queasy there for a moment." Let's get away from here while we still can.
There was a clattering behind them and they both spun around. A handgun skittered across the spaceport ground, sliding to a stop near Jack's feet. Both men stared at it.
"Agent!"
The shout seemed to echo around the buildings, making it impossible to identify the source.
Steve turned full circle, trying to see who had shouted. The voice had been human, not the mechanical tone of the globes. Who else was here? What did he mean by 'agent'?
By the time he turned back in Jack's direction, his friend had picked up the handgun.
"Jack, what the hell?"
"I know you don’t believe me about the Inner Council Steve, but trust me now. " Jack's voice was grim, determined. "Lie down flat on the ground."
"What?"
Jack turned the gun on Steve.
"Just get down and stay still. Don't argue. For once in your life do as you're told."
Steve, confused but unwilling to argue with the gun, lay himself flat on the ground.
He watched as Jack moved away from him, the gun now at his side, his finger curled around the trigger.
"AGENT!"
The shout was louder this time and its source was obvious. Directly behind them.
Jack turned and raised the gun in both hands, widening his stance, balancing himself, steadying for a carefully aimed shot, all as he had been trained, all in one brief moment of activity.
Suzex stepped from behind The Seven Deadly Sins. He was smiling. His own handgun was holstered in the open at his hip.
Jack's finger tightened on the trigger.
"Hello agent." His voice boomed around the spaceport. "Do you recognise me?"
Jack answered by tightening his finger again, squeezing off a shot. The bullet exploded harmlessly against the wall of a distant building. Suzex had disappeared behind the ship again.
So quick. I didn't even see him move!
"I know who you are Suzex," he shouted. "Every agent has your name deep in his memory, and every one will kill you on sight."
“Suzex?” said Steve, his voice unsteady with fear. “You mentioned him before but…”
“Quiet,” hissed Jack. “Stay quiet and stay down!”
"I hope the other agents are better shots than you." Suzex stepped from behind The Seven Deadly Sins again. His gun was still holstered. “Otherwise it will be tediously
simple to kill them.”
Jack hesitated. His finger tightened again but he did not fire. What Suzex was doing made no sense. Why should he make such a target of himself?
Is he over confident, or is he just playing with me? Will I really be that easy for him to kill?
Suzex could sense the agent's discomfort, his doubt.
This is so easy. Since Shrilor retired the Council don't have anyone worthy of me.
"I'm just playing a little game with you, agent. Making you suffer. Making you realise just how helpless and hopeless you are. Do you think this is a trick? It's no trick. Why don't you try to kill me again? Your gun is pointing at me, mine is still in its holster. How can you lose?"
Steve watched as Jack's finger twitched, hesitated, and then tightened on the trigger.
What’s happening? What the fuck is going on?
Jack checked his aim. Was it a trick, or was Suzex just supremely confident? The chance was there, he could not fail to take it.
He squeezed the trigger.
Suzex moved at seemingly impossible speed, dropping to one knee, just in case Jack should loose off a shot in reflex, and drawing his own gun. He fired once, smiling as Jack was lifted from the ground with the force of the explosion that tore apart his chest.
Steve did not move, his eyes fixed on the smouldering corpse that had been his friend. His mind struggled to assimilate what had happened. His friend lay dead before him, killed by a stranger.
Why did he call Jack ‘agent’? Could all that shit about an Inner Council be true?
He didn’t see Suzex climb to his feet and walk towards him. He didn’t even know that the other was anywhere near him until the boot slammed into his ribs.
He cried out in pain and rolled away from the kick.
Suzex grinned down at him.
"Get up trader. You're going home."
Steve was lifted from the ground by a Bosen, huge hairy hands gripping him under the arms. He was too shocked to even notice the smell.
"Tell the Council that Suzex has dealt with another one of their agents," Suzex laughed. "And tell them that without Shrilor they have no one to stop me."