by Neil Davies
"Don't I know it," said Martin, allowing the towel to linger on her inner thighs.
"Yes, I heard about your run-in with him." She hesitated, as if considering some matter of importance, her concentration interrupted only by a small movement of Martin's hands between her legs that drew an involuntary gasp from her.
She pushed his hands away and reached for her clothes, an apologetic smile on her face.
"I'm sorry Martin, I really am, but I just don't have the time. Roland and his merry little team will be here soon and I must get dressed."
Martin shrugged and tossed the towel back to her.
"Can't blame me for trying."
She laughed, "Never," and started dressing.
She seemed to hesitate again, then said, "I heard about you saving the Controller's life on Armistice."
Martin said nothing. She's leading up to something, I can feel it. But what? What is it that she wants to tell me but finds so difficult?
"I was there too. I was the Reagold representative on Armistice at that time."
Martin stayed silent. He felt she had more to say.
Tina dressed in a hurry, finishing just as the door buzzer announced that her entourage was waiting outside.
How much can I tell him? The question was tearing her apart inside. Her loyalty to Reagold told her to stay quiet, but her love, and she thought of it increasingly as that now, pushed her towards telling him at least enough to help him protect himself. She made the decision quickly, feeling both a release from deceit and a tightening of fear as she spoke.
"Be careful of Loadra and the priesthood Martin. Don't stay too close to the Controller. Next time you might not be able to help him, and you could get hurt yourself."
She hurried from the room before he could react, leaving him wondering just exactly what she was warning him about.
Chapter 54
The reception hall, with its anterooms, kitchen, presentation suite and bar, occupied the top floor of the main government building. The west wall was a vast window overlooking the rooftops of central Akasian, a view only slightly spoilt by the darkening and faint shimmer produced by recently added reinforcement.
Lane hated the change. It reminded him of the instability of his position. The rebels have forced us into this. We no longer feel safe at our work, in our homes.
He turned away to face the opposite wall, solid, decorated with immense hologram images depicting moments worthy of note from Aksian history: The space battle in the Hortunsa nebula where the Aksian navy had recorded its first great victory over its Earth counterpart during the war of independence; The signing of the Declaration of Independence aboard the battle cruiser Walsall; Many other events and figures from the past. He was aware that preparations had been under way for a hologram of the signing of the treaty on Armistice and that thought transformed the wall, like the window opposite, into an object of hate.
I hate this room.
He forced himself to smile pleasantly at the people around him, ambitious and proud people who smiled and nodded in his direction as if they were personal friends, one eye always on the vid cameras littered about for the live broadcast. These were the rich, the influential, in Akasian society, gathered to greet the Szuiltan President upon his arrival. Lane doubted that any of them had ever seen a Szuiltan, even though a small party had been on Aks for some months now. He himself had only seen two, maybe three, of them, and that only infrequently, but it was enough. Just the memory turned his stomach. The arrival of the President threatened to sicken him both physically and politically.
He could not shake the suspicion, the fear, that the President coming to Aks in person signified a major turning point in the vague and, so far, unspectacular alliance between the two planets. Other than the aid of the Bosens in cases of civil unrest, Aks had received little benefit so far from this alliance and, as far as he could see, Szuilta had received nothing in return.
I feel things are about to change. I'm certain nothing will be quite the same after this evening.
He saw Suzex standing near the replete buffet table at the top end of the room, dressed in the uniform of the Aksian military. He noted the insignia of Major on the shoulders and, for a moment, a sweeping wave of anger engulfed him.
How dare he wear that! He's not even Aksian. I should order him removed.
Then the wave broke on the hard edge of his fear, broke and subsided, receding into a background sea that broiled with collected fears and anxieties. He knew that Suzex wore the uniform for practical reasons, as the best way to mingle, watch for potential danger, and be accepted by the guests here tonight as someone worthy of their company. Suzex had explained all this earlier to Lane, but he had not been ready for the reality.
I am still a patriot, despite what my detractors say. This Alliance will make us stronger, give us the strength to defeat Earth once and for all. Surely the risk of some interference in local politics is worth that?
He knew what was being said about him in the suburbs, perhaps even in central Akasian. That he had betrayed Aks. That he was turning this planet over to aliens. That he could no longer lead without outside aid. Even within the priesthood, his beloved Larnian priesthood who so much of what he had done was for, there were whispers of dissatisfaction, of mistrust in his judgement. His supporters and his spies reported these things to him. He knew they were all wrong, but it hurt just the same, particularly the priesthood.
They will see. After tonight things will change, I am sure of that. They will see just how valuable this Alliance will be to us, to the furtherment of the true Larnian faith across the galaxy, to the destruction of the heresy that is Earth. Then they will give me the praise I deserve.
"I hear you've taken Carlton's official mistress as your own?"
The voice came from directly behind Lane and he turned rapidly but without startlement, successfully concealing the moment of panic that had gripped him at the sudden intrusion. The speaker was an elderly priest, dressed in his ceremonial robes of gold and green, lined with silk. Lane was momentarily taken aback by the opulence of the garment, particularly the lining, until he remembered a tour many years back, a tour of the great cathedral in central Akasian. He had been privileged to see several areas normally excluded from public viewing, and among those had been a laboratory breeding genetically mutated silk worms. Silk, a fabric denied to all but the most wealthy in the galaxy, was always readily available to the priests of Akasian.
Lane smiled, dredged up a name from the depths of his memory.
"High Priest Xavier isn't it?"
"Kind of you to remember," the priest nodded.
"I try to remember those who have served Larn long and faithfully." It was a variation on a standard greeting much used in the priesthood between those who have not met for a long time, and it had the desired effect of removing any barbed suggestion of criticism from the priest's original question.
"Yes, it's true," continued Lane. "I have taken Leader Carlton's official mistress under my care and protection. She has been with me for over a month now. The arrangement suites us both admirably."
"I met her once or twice with Leader Carlton at such functions." The old priest turned his head back and forth, searching. "Charming lady. I don't see her around?"
Has he been sent here deliberately? Primed with questions and comments designed to fool me into revealing something I might be trying to hide? Surely the High Priests would not be so foolish, so obvious.
"She will be joining us shortly. I think she has a desire to make a grand entrance." Lane broadened his smile, demonstrating that he took all this in good faith and that the topic was one of light amusement, not concern.
"A flair for the dramatic." Xavier laughed. "Never a bad thing in a woman."
The doors at the far end of the hall swung open, causing heads to turn and relieving Lane of the burden of ending the conversation without causing offence to the old priest or creating concern in those who might be watching.
Carina
entered, flanked by two Aksian soldiers, hand picked by Lane to both protect and, if necessary, restrain his mistress. He did not feel he could yet completely trust her not to use this opportunity to create some disturbance. He did not notice the slight hand signals that flashed between the bodyguards and Suzex that indicated their true allegiance.
Carina wore a floor length gown of translucent fabric, delicately patterned with Aksian flora, tinted with subtle shades of summer colours. As was the fashion, the dress revealed her breasts in tantalising semi-detail, and its undulating flow around her hips and legs as she walked suggested glimpses of bare flesh without ever degenerating into coarseness or crudity. Her blonde hair was clipped back on one side but flowed free on the other, curving down over her shoulder, nestling just above her left breast.
Lane experienced, in that moment, the same strength of desire he had felt during that call to Carlton leading up to the treaty, when he had glimpsed Carina in the background, teasing, tantalising. She was beautiful, and he knew that could do him no harm in the eyes both of those present and of those watching on the live vid linkup. It was simplistic but effective. No one all bad could have such a beautiful official mistress.
He watched with a certain amount of admiration as she passed through the crowd, fielding the compliments and questions with consummate ease. She was a professional. He could appreciate that.
"You look beautiful," he said as she approached, and he found that he said it with sincerity.
"Thank you Leader. I'm sorry I'm late, but things take time." She spoke slowly and clearly and Lane realised that she was speaking for those around them, not for him. He followed her lead.
"Well worth waiting for, and you are in plenty of time. The President has not yet arrived from the spaceport."
They linked arms and, as if this was a signal, the rest of the room returned to its normal, busy conversations.
Carina tried to fix her thoughts on the occasion, rather than on the man she was with. The smile was the hardest thing she had ever made herself do. It was so difficult to smile when all you really wanted to do was scream and shout about injustice and abuse.
She suppressed a shudder. She loathed his touch, but it was necessary. She must remain out of the asylum and near potential sources of information. Carlton would be avenged, at whatever cost to her self-esteem, her pride. She never doubted it would be worth it.
Another twenty-two minutes of small talk and political politeness passed before the news finally arrived that the Szuiltan President was in the building.
As if at some unheard command, the people in the reception hall moved back towards the walls, forming living corridor walls through which the President would enter and approach his host, Leader Lane. The Leader stood at the far end with Carina on one side, her bodyguards close behind, and Suzex on the other. No one questioned Suzex's presence. It was understandable that a representative from the military would be there to greet their new ally.
This is it, thought Lane. There can be no turning back now.
The doors swung open. A silence so complete fell over those in the reception hall that even the faint sound of traffic through the reinforced window could be heard. All eyes turned towards the doorway.
The Bosens were the first to enter, as always preceding the President. Seven positioned themselves around the door, standing facing the Aksians who involuntarily huddled further back against the wall and the window. They had all witnessed the Bosens in action through the government propaganda machine that fed the news, and none wished to be closer to one than absolutely necessary.
The dank, fetid smell of the swamp overpowered the air conditioning and twisted its way into the nostrils of everyone present.
Lane prepared himself. He had met Szuiltans previously, but he never quite got used to it.
The President, accompanied by three other Szuiltans and a plethora of translator globes, undulated into the room, dripping from once position to another, spreading himself like an iridescent pond in a form of Szuiltan greeting reserved for official occasions.
An uncontrolled gasp rose from the watching crowd. For most of them this was their first experience of a Szuiltan and, as Lane knew, at first the fluidity was at once intriguing and sickening. He remembered the initial fascination clearly. He still found that he was waiting for the surface tension to break, for the Szuiltans to just pour away into the ground.
The fact that they floated seemingly effortlessly made things worse.
"Welcome to Aks, Mr President," said Lane. He had no idea of the gender of the President, or even if Szuiltans had need of such things, but 'Mr' seemed the right term to use in the circumstances. "I'm sure you'll find our hospitality to your pleasing."
"Thank you Leader." The voice emanated from a translator globe that undulated above the President. "I am pleased to finally be here and meet you in person."
Only Suzex noticed the slight swelling on the President's left side, a swelling that formed itself into something similar to human fingers for a brief moment, flashing a prepared signal that made Suzex smile. Its meaning was simple. Everything is ready.
Lane was continuing with his prepared welcome speech and the gradual relaxing of tensions could be felt around the hall. They still stared. They still murmured amongst themselves. But they had recovered from the initial shock.
Only Carina seemed uninterested and unmoved by the President's entrance. Her thoughts had drifted away from the reception hall and had alighted on one of those rare times when Leader Carlton had shared his political concerns with her.
"Keep one eye on Mayor Lane," he had said to her as they lay in bed together, sharing a post coital embrace that was pleasant, if not entirely genuine, for her. "He seems fairly ineffectual. Ambitious, certainly. Fanatically religious, definitely. But he does not seem to have the heart for violence, either physical or political. However, he is easily led, easily manipulated by anyone who plays to his ambitions. Who can tell what others might drive him to, or do on his behalf?"
"But he's your natural successor anyway. Why should he risk everything by any premature move?"
"He wouldn't. But there may be those around him who would. Roger Lane would not turn down the Leadership, however it was achieved."
With her thoughts returning to the present, she turned to look at Leader Lane, watched him speaking. Could he have been behind Carlton's assassination? Was that what her memory was telling her? She had always thought him incapable of such action, just as Carlton had, but perhaps with others pushing him?
She looked out over the people in the hall, suppressing a slight trembling as she focused momentarily on the Szuiltan party.
Any of them could have been involved in Jimmy's death, she thought. They're all ambitious, cruel, callous. Even Lane could not have risen politically as he did if there were not a deep-seated ruthlessness in there somewhere. So many possibilities.
"In short," said Lane, drawing his speech to a close. "We are honoured to welcome you here, and I am sure our Alliance will be a fruitful one."
"Thank you Leader," said the translator globe. "We are committed to this Alliance with your planet of Aks, and to demonstrate this, let me present you with a gift. The gift of truth. A truth I am sure you must have searched for."
The murmuring grew among those watching, an excited and curious murmuring.
A further two Bosens entered the reception hall, dragging between them a man, his head down, his clothes torn and blackened by what seemed to be burns. Another gasp was drawn from the crowd as the man was pulled to alongside the President.
What is this? Thought Lane. No one told me anything about this?
He turned to look at Suzex, but Suzex only smiled. Lane felt suddenly frightened, very frightened.
"I don't understand this gift," he said, wondering whether others could hear the trembling in his voice as clearly as he could.
"We have always taken a close interest in the war between yourself and Earth, as I am sure you're already aware. We w
ere watching the attempted treaty on Armistice with particular interest."
Lane felt suddenly cold without being quite sure why. What is this leading to?
Carina was alert, her senses poised. Armistice. Jimmy. What do they know?
"After the terrible assassination of your Leader Carlton..."
Jimmy! Carina cried out inside her own head, her thoughts tumbling back to Armistice and Carlton's death, in graphic, slow motion detail.
"...we monitored a small craft escaping in the confusion. We tracked that craft and intercepted this human."
The murmuring from around the walls of the reception hall grew louder. Several people pushed forward, trying to gain a better view, curiosity overcoming their fear of the Bosens.
Lane opened his mouth to speak, found that his throat was too dry. He coughed, tried to control the shaking of his muscles.
Why am I afraid? I had nothing to do with Carlton's death. I was as surprised as anyone.
He turned to look at Suzex again, met only that smile, felt a cold fear slide into his stomach to lie heavily.
Suzex. The realisation struck him. He's behind this in some way. This is some sort of conspiracy!
"We asked him one question," continued the globe. "Who gave the order for the murder of Leader Carlton and the attempted murder of the Earth Controller? It took many months of continuous interrogation, using techniques you could not even imagine, to break his training, his conditioning. This man is a professional soldier, and he was prepared for capture well. But we broke him."
"Who was it?" called Carina, stepping forward, finding herself restrained by one of her guards.
Lane turned to look at her, saw the rage, the madness in her eyes, and suddenly he knew what was happening, and that it was too late for him to do anything to stop it.
A Bosen gripped the man's hair, lifted his head. Through swollen lips the man spoke, his voice barely audible but his words clear to everyone in the room.
"Mayor Lane gave the order personally."
Lane held up his hands to protest his innocence, felt every eye, every camera in the hall turn on him.