Part 15 (2/2)

Krau Gillatt had a theory on that one. 'Ah, yes, but what if it was a double-bluff? Our man defrauds the SN Bank and, like you, the Pakhars think he's going further out. Instead, he reenters Federation Central and comes to you for a new face. By the time he leaves Kaldor and even j.a.petus the heat is off, the search over and he could then get out of here and on to a frontier world. If the Pakhars haven't found him in a year then their claim is void. After all, it wasn't a particularly large overdraft.' She swallowed her drink and stroked the stem of the gla.s.s.

Taking the hint, Martyn rose and went to get them both another. As he approached the bar, he was aware of a conversation between the tender and an older male customer.

'. . . no survivors, apparently. Well. I've been off work for a few days and only heard about it this morning. Of course, they made me sign lots of papers, you know, Galactic Federation secrecy an' all that. But I know you won't tell anyone else . . .'

The bartender gave him a look that suggested b.u.t.ter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Of course, he didn't need to tell anyone else, the old man was being loud enough for everyone around the bar to hear. Besides which. everyone else's conversation had died down to enable them to listen to this top-secret information. Martyn felt almost guilty for listening, but what the h.e.l.l.

Federation secrets weren't usually that secret.

'So,' the old man continued, 'there I was getting the floor-cleaning servicer out of its cupboard when 1 saw the list. It's so sad. I mean, that Commander Rudzka was such a nice woman. ”Joel,” she'd always say, ”Joel, how's the wife? Rebekkha isn't it?” Not many troopers even know my name, let alone Bek's.'

The old man would have carried on forever if two Federation troopers hadn't come in at that moment. The bartender tried to warn Joel but the old man didn't take the hint. 'Hang on, there's more. Apparently these people nicked a shuttle and-' Old Joel was cut off as a gauntlet clamped down on his shoulder. A man with a captain's insignia on his chest leaned over.

I think you've been drinking, Joel. Ought to lay off it, you know. Careless, inaccurate talk and all that . . .' There was no mistaking the warning and Joel swallowed hard.

I'm sorry, Captain Jaansen. I guess I'd best get back to work.'

Captain Jaansen nodded. 'There's a few more corridors need cleaning, Joel, before clocking-off. Coming?' It was an order, not a question really, and Joel looked as if he knew it.

Martyn watched the whole thing. Something in the back of his mind struck a chord. Alec Roberts. He'd been talking about security at the s.p.a.ceport.

Asking Martyn if he knew anything about their shuttles. Pretended he was into fast flyers. It hadn't sounded right back then, and in light of what Old Joel had said . . .

Krau Gillatt was quite surprised to see her boss das.h.i.+ng out of the bar, apparently following the troopers towards the s.p.a.ceport. Something told her that Trau Briggs was going to find his four thirty-five appointment cancelled this afternoon.

'Tell me the whole story from the start, Doktor, if you please.'

Iain Martyn was sweating. He didn't like authority at the best of times - his one foot on the wrong side of the law always made him extra nervous.

Now, here he was, trying for once to be a dutiful citizen (although getting the credits due to him from Alec Roberts had something to do with it) and they were treating him almost as if he was the criminal.

He told the story from the start. The five men dressed in black seated around the table listened and took notes. Copious notes, whispering to themselves and using their adapted fingers to place the information he was presenting straight into their memories via the micro-meshes on their temples, reminding the doktor of something he'd heard about monkeys, micro-meshes and the complete works of Shakespeare.

When he'd finished the eldest man, a Brigade Leader Lepav, smiled benignly - and about as convincingly as a wolf that tells a sheep that it's really vegetarian. 'Nothing to worry about, Doktor Martyn. You've done the right thing in telling us about this Alexander Charles Roberts.' Lepav leaned across the table, the vegetarian wolf looking even less plausible than before. And don't worry. In the military, we're not interested in your - how can I put it? - back-street medical practices. We leave that kind of thing to the Federation Administrators, and they won't hear a word about it from me.'

A man, clearly from Io, standing at the back of the room caused Martyn to suspect that at best this was a lie and at worst he'd just sacrificed his career.

One thing I have got,' he said meekly, s a copy of the holo of the face I turned him into. I could get my secretary to bring it over, if you can just connect me with her.'

'Can't we just fibre-op it up?' said Captain Jaansen, who'd been at the back of the room but was suddenly uncomfortably close to Martyn's right ear.

Martyn shook his head. It's on my pad - it needs my Neysc.r.a.pe. It's sort of.. . confidential. . .' he ended lamely. Lepav licked his lips. Probably wondering how Martyn would look smothered in mint jello, the doktor decided.

'Tell you what, Trau Martyn,' Lepav said. The dropping of his professional t.i.tle didn't escape Martyn for a second -his career was finished. 'Tell you what, I'll just get Captain Jaansen there to nip over to Kaldor City and get it off her, all right?' Martyn nodded in mute resignation.

He sat waiting for nearly half an hour, sweating enough to open a lido.

Eventually Jaansen returned, a data-pad in his hand. He nodded at Lepav who took the pad and offered it to the doktor.

err . . . Holo Recon AR2,' Martyn said.

One second later and a three-dimensional face was rotating in front of the a.s.sembled group.

'This your Alexander Charles Roberts?' Lepav asked.

Martyn nodded. 'That's what he looks like now, Brigade Leader. I have to confess it was a very good result indeed. I don't know whose face it is . . .

or was . . . though.'

Brigade Leader Lepav nodded slowly, and Martyn followed his gaze around the group. Most of them, including Jaansen, were clearly nonplussed, it was no one they knew. But the one with a Galactic Federation HQ flash on his shoulder was clearly amazed.

Lepav wasn't smiling any longer. I think I can tell you this, Trau Martyn.

The face in front of us belongs to a dead man. He died about three or four weeks back in a shuttle accident. The particulars of the accident have never been satisfactorily resolved. With your information I think we're on the way to learning some new information.' He turned to the Federation official. 'Trau Secretary?' Oh, indeed, Brigade Leader,' confirmed the secretary. 'Now, if you'll excuse me, I must put a message through to the Federation Chair on Io. And then a call to High Lord Savaar on board the Bruk.' The secretary turned to Martyn and smiled. Another vegetarian wolf smile. 'You see, Trau Martyn? Your information must go to the very highest levels.' The secretary nodded to Lepav and exited.

Martyn cleared his throat to speak, but when he did, it came out almost as a whisper. excuse me. What happens to me now?' Lepav ignored him.

Instead he got out of his seat. 'Time, gentlemen, for a spot of dinner.

Canteen's doing a splendid roast something or other today.' He then acknowledged Martyn. 'Fancy seeing what's on the menu, Trau Martyn?'

5: A Game Called Echo

'Are you mad?'

Atissa swung around on her mother, ignoring the astonished looks on the faces of the others gathered in the temple. 'I? Mad? Mother, it was not I who welcomed the Federation. It was not I who filled the king's head with ridiculous tales of Federation wonderment. It was not I who-'

'Enough!' Lianna waved the guards and attendants away. As they fled, she walked over to the vast granite statue that dominated the far wall of the temple. 'Look at Aggedor, Atissa. Look at him and think what he stands for in our hearts. In the very soul of the Pels.'

Atissa did not need to look at Aggedor. She knew exactly what he looked like. Exactly what he stood for. She knew all the stories, all the tales and legends. She also knew where her duty lay. 'You may be my mother but you have become a stranger to me,' she said. 'You stroke the statue but you do not believe in it. You suggest you want to invoke images of soul, pa.s.sion and heritage but instead you advocate the selling-off of such things like cheap baubles in the markets. I tell you this as the servant of Peladon, as the high priestess of Aggedor and as your daughter, you, Mother, are the betrayer. You are the mad one.' She waved her hands at the incense burners, the gas flambeaus and the everlasting candles. 'Look about you and see the Federation's gifts to us. There are none! Just a few gimmicks and tricks ”to keep the primitive natives amused”. It is an insult and I am disgusted. Disgusted above all at you for falling for all this.'

Lianna sighed. It was a circular argument. I can see you are not rational at the moment, daughter. But be warned, we shall talk about this again.'

Atissa gaped in astonishment. Again? Again! We have done nothing but talk. You have preached Federation lies, I have preached Pel truth. We have nothing further to say, Mother. Leave my . . . Aggedor's Sacred Temple before I declare you and your allies heretics.'

'You would go that far?' 'I would go as far as I need to protect this planet.'

Against the wishes of the king?' 'King? That weak-willed fool? Rank does not equal greatness, Mother. Remember that.'

Lianna tried one last time. She grabbed at a candlestick. 'Look at this, Atissa. Your forebears would spend weeks creating just one of these from the limited resources that Peladon offered naturally. Now we have one that never deteriorates. Never burns away. It does not insult Aggedor. It does not devalue our heritage. It benefits us in however small a way. Yet you would declare war over a matter so trivial?' Atissa paused and stared at the other candlesticks. Then she reached out and reclaimed the one from Lianna's hand, setting it in its proper place. A war? Your choice of words, Mother, not mine. But yes, I would go as far as to say that it is at least a battle. And I will win that battle, because I know I am right.'

'Study the Federation histories, daughter. Examine other worlds, other places. Study them and learn just how many wars have been fought and lost, at horrendous costs too vast for us to truly comprehend, and all because someone ”knew they were right”.'

Atissa turned away from her mother. 'Your mind, your body, your being - all are evil.'

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