Part 10 (1/2)

Chapter 5.

'I'm Evan Claple, and this is The Empire Today Update The Empire Today Update , broadcast-ing from the heart of the Empire. Tonight's special report: are the , broadcast-ing from the heart of the Empire. Tonight's special report: are the Overcities safe for humanity? As the latest figures show a disturbing Overcities safe for humanity? As the latest figures show a disturbing five thousand per cent increase in violent crimes, we talk to Adjudicator Spiritual Nbomo of the Church of Adjudication and Vice-Admiral five thousand per cent increase in violent crimes, we talk to Adjudicator Spiritual Nbomo of the Church of Adjudication and Vice-Admiral O'Gottif of the Imperial Landsknechte. All that and more, after this O'Gottif of the Imperial Landsknechte. All that and more, after this message . . . ' message . . . '

'Unknown.'

The word hung in mid-air, mocking them both.

Bernice leaned back in the chair and glanced around the cubicle. n.o.body was watching. The muscles across the back of her neck were knotted with tension, and she dug her fingers into them, pressing until it hurt, trying to force them to relax. It was no good. Impersonating a Landsknecht on a planet run entirely by the Imperial Landsknechte was not a situation designed to induce comfort.

She gazed past the Doctor and out of the crystal window instead. At least the view was tranquil. A few minutes after take-off, the hovercar had crossed an invisible boundary between two of the hexagons she had spotted from orbit, pa.s.sing with an almost imperceptible tremor from the bleak, mechanistic s.p.a.ceport to a lush, landscaped area of trembling white lawns and low buildings: the central administration area for the planet and, presumably, the Landsknecht fleet.

The Imperial Landsknecht Archive was a large building of rose-tinted mar-ble set in the middle of an albino lawn. The next section of Purgatory was visible as a huge wall of water that rose up and vanished in the blue of the sky. With Bernice's fingers firmly crossed behind her back, they had been escorted to a tiny cubicle with a desk and one chair. After a certain amount of 'After you', 'No, after you you' which culminated with both she and the Doctor trying to sit down at the same time, Bernice entered into a meaningful dialogue with the computer. She told it what she wanted, it told her what it could do for her, and etched the word into the air in several languages just to make sure that she understood. She'd been doing fine, up to the point when she asked it about Homeless Forsaken Betrayed And Alone.65.

'Fine,' she said, looking away from the window, 'let's make the inquiry a little more general. Computer, search all public records for mentions of the Hith race.'

'All records concerning individual members of the Hith race, the Hith race itself, the Hith Pacification and all subsidiary subjects are cla.s.sified,' the computer said primly.

'Hmm,' the Doctor said, leaning forward with interest. 'The war's been over for four years. You'd think that they could decla.s.sify something.' He thought for a moment. 'Let me try.' He cleared his throat. 'Computer, search all public records for Imperial Landsknecht prisoner of war identification numbers.'

'Searched and found.'

'Display all data on subject with Imperial Landsknecht prisoner of war identification number five zero three three nine one zero two.'

A pause.

'I know what it's going to say,' Bernice whispered.

'Information concerning the prisoner of war identified by that number is cla.s.sified.'

Bernice sighed. The Doctor smiled. 'We're on a trail,' he said.

'Yeah, but the trail's blocked.'

'Then we'll walk along the gra.s.s verge to the side,' the Doctor said. Bernice was still trying to work out exactly what he meant by that when he said: 'Computer, how many Imperial Landsknecht prisoner oh, this is stupid.' He thought for a moment. 'Computer, for the duration of this access session, please regard the phrase ILPIN as being equivalent to the phrase Imperial Landsknecht prisoner of war identification number.'

'Acknowledged.'

'Nice to know you speaka da lingo,' Bernice murmured.

The Doctor continued. 'Computer, how many ILPINs are cla.s.sified?'

'Two,' it said.

The Doctor turned to Bernice and said: 'Interesting. Our quarry is so important that he is one of two records that have not been decla.s.sified.' Turning back to the desk, he said, 'Computer, please give the date at which ILPIN five zero three three nine one zero two was issued.'

'That information is '

'Cla.s.sified,' he chorused with it. 'Very well, please and this is the clever bit please give the date on which ILPIN five zero three three nine one zero one one was issued.' was issued.'

'That information is '

'Shut up!' the Doctor barked, then grimaced. 'Oh, of course. Computer, please give the date at which ILPIN five zero three three nine one zero zero zero was issued.' was issued.'66.

'Tuesday the fifth of June in the year two thousand nine hundred and fifty-five.'

The Doctor clapped his hands together in joy. 'Smack in the middle of the Hith Pacification. Computer, please give the date on which ILPIN five zero three three nine one zero three three was issued.' was issued.'

'Tuesday the fifth of June in the year two thousand nine hundred and fifty-five.'

Bernice, who had been following this with interest, was lost. 'And this means . . . ?' she asked.

'It means that, of all the prisoners of war who were given numbers during the Hith offensive, only two were so important that all records of them are still cla.s.sified four years later. And we were having dinner with one of them a few days ago.'

'Homeless Forsaken Betrayed And Alone?'

'I think that we can safely a.s.sume so.'

'Something of an ironic joke,' Bernice said.

'I hope the joke consoles you during your incarceration,' a deep voice said from behind them. They turned, to find two Landsknechte pointing guns at them. Big guns, bristling with matt-black attachments. Beside them stood a portly Landsknecht in a provost-major's uniform, his hands behind his back.

His skin was blue and wrinkled, his ears were huge flapping sheets and his nose had been elongated into a flexible tube that dangled down across his ample belly. An expensive body-bepple, for sure. He reminded Bernice of something, but she couldn't remember what.

He smiled at Bernice.

'I apologize for the inconvenience,' he said pleasantly. 'I'm Provost-Major Beltempest, and you're under arrest for impersonating Landsknecht officers.'

He took his hands from behind his back, and Bernice was oddly unsurprised to find that he had four arms . . . 'I hope you enjoy your stay,' he said. 'It's liable to be a long one.'

The sound of metal sliding against wood was almost drowned by the soft hiss of rain against the surface of the ca.n.a.l.

Powerless Friendless took a deep, silent breath, and tried to squeeze himself closer to the side of the building. He was standing on a wooden walkway which dangled unsteadily from lengths of rope, wire and discarded fibre-optic cable. As with all the walkways in the Undertown, the cables were attached to the roof of the building above. The wall beside him, and the one across the ca.n.a.l, were sheer faces of polycarbide-reinforced plastic. The rain poured down in a steady, monotonous rhythm. High above, the ma.s.sive towers of the Overcity loomed impa.s.sively over the Undertown like stone clouds.67.

Metal again, sc.r.a.ping against the walkway. Powerless Friendless tried to locate it, but the hiss of the rain made it almost impossible. He could usually tell when there was a living creature nearby his skin crawled and his eyestalks itched but bots were different. They weren't alive.

He slid back a few metres.

Nothing. Perhaps it couldn't hear him. Perhaps there was nothing there.

He slid back a little more.

Still nothing. He'd been spooked by a rat, or some kind of scavenger. His nerves were all shot to h.e.l.l. Not surprising he was scared. Not in a place like the Undertown.

He slid back again, more confident now.

Sc.r.a.pe.

He froze.