Get a grip.
Esganikan thought it was Shan’s fierce discipline surfacing in her, but it was that all-too similar voice, the spy Rayat; they were both so tenacious, such survivors, so driven.
A sense of detached calm overwhelmed the other memories. She saw a small illuminated data screen with meaningless words on it, but a very clear recollection of the names and faces associated with them.
For a moment, she was Rayat, receiving orders to salt neutron bombs with cobalt, and ensure that the c’naatat organism dormant in the soil of Ouzhari island was totally destroyed, put beyond the reach of any of the FEU’s rival states.
Michael Leard.
Jaime Callard.
Rav Mynor.
Katya Prachy.
So those were the names. She knew that three on that list had been killed by environmental activists before she’d left Bezer’ej, twenty-five years ago, when Marchant had contacted her and promised to deliver the guilty. One was a civil servant; the other was an intelligence officer, a spook like Rayat.
But the woman, Prachy…
The woman was guilty too, and now Esganikan had her name. That had been worth those moments drowning in alien memories.
If the woman was still alive—she could check that, with or without Shan Frankland’s investigative skills.
Europe faced overwhelming restoration measures anyway, but Esganikan didn’t want a probable death. She needed to carry out the death sentence on Prachy, and be certain of it.
It was about balance. It was about judgment.
4
We still have six Royal Marines and a naval officer listed as dismissed the service. Commander Neville’s dead, but the marines are still on board that ship, and maybe now is the ideal time to bring them back for debriefing. Let’s resurrect the Judge Advocate’s recommendation to set aside the findings of the court martial. It was only a political gesture to appease the wess’har. Get them back with the rest of our people. Good intel, good bargaining chip.
Head of Military Intelligence, FEU
Australian PM’s flight, en route for the Eqbas camp: next day.
Bari didn’t care if he had to crawl over broken glass to see Esganikan Gai. His place or hers, it didn’t matter; if she wanted to sit it out in the bloody desert for a few more days deciding if she liked the color of the wallpaper, that was fine.
Right now he needed to know what his visitors could do to warn off the FEU. Another carrier was heading south from the FEU’s main Spanish base. The worst thing was that Bari had no idea what concession he was expected to make. The saber rattling made no sense.
“Shukry, just tell me the damn accommodation’s ready,” he said, not looking up from the surface of his makeshift desk. It filled the width of the small charter aircraft. A private jet was unacceptable even for the PM, except in a national emergency, and it had to be a very small aircraft to avoid accusations of environmental vandalism. The desk screen showed him the split feed from the emergency response center, the military navsat array and the UN, but the latter might as well have been a bloody freeze-frame for all the action they were taking. “And the quarantine’s sorted, right?”
Shukry Aziz looked at Persis Jackson, Bari’s PPS. “Well, Esganikan said we’re safe, and she thinks she’s safe, so…”
“Frankly, if we catch the Black Death, it’ll be worth it just to go and cough over Zammett,” Persis said. “Eh, PM?”
What the hell does Zammett want from us? He knows we can’t kick the Eqbas out, and this isn’t about the Antarctic territory. I’m fed up guessing.
Esganikan Gai could put her highly advanced boot up Zamett’s backside. That might get him to put his cards on the table.
“I’m going to trust Eqbas tech,” Bari said. “But I didn’t think we’d managed to get all the data. Still waiting on the Nairobi Disease Center, I thought.”
“She says she has it anyway,” said Persis. “So I think we can forget passwords and encryption. Everything’s hackable as far as they’re concerned.”
Shukry grunted in agreement. “No concept of secrecy. Like they don’t understand borders.”
It was the little things that reminded Bari not to push the Eqbas too far. The plane flew over a surprisingly large crowd clustered at the perimeter fences the army had erected, and then dropped down on a scene that looked like an orderly snooker table. He could see the defense shield clearly now, a layer of shimmering air sitting over the whole camp like a flattened dome, and there were figures moving around, some almost human in size and shape, some like…large dogs. He had no other description. It was just as well he’d seen the news footage from Wess’ej over the years or the culture shock might have killed him. Ussissi. They were ussissi. He wasn’t just dealing with one alien species; counting the Skavu, who he hadn’t yet seen, there were three.
“You think they could generate a shield like that for the whole country?” Shukry asked. “It was bloody amazing how that jet bounced off it.”
“Yes, Zammett’s backed down on the claim that the Eqbas opened fire. Common sense says he finally worked out that the FEU can’t go on pissing off wess’har and not be turned into charcoal.”
“Bit late for that,” said Persis. “It’s still top of her agenda. Esganikan wants Zammett to hand over an ex-spookmaster called Prachy for the bombing.”
“Oh, she’s got a name now?” Somehow Bari had expected Esganikan to tell him first. “They do hold a grudge, don’t they?”
“The FEU did a lot of damage.”
“Says a lot for their patience that they don’t just fry Europe from orbit, actually.”
Shukry looked back over his seat. “They don’t think like us. It sounds obvious, but everyone forgets because they speak English so fluently. They’re not patient. They’re precise.”
“This is the wisdom of Michallat again, is it?”
“He’s the only definitive source on the wess’har, PM. And he says to beware trying to mix wess’har and human concepts of guilt.”
“My, the useful things you can learn from televids. Now, is that refugee center ready for them or not? It’ll make all our lives easier if we can get them to move.”
“The army says it is, but they think the outer perimeter needs to be extended to take in the town. Or the residents will be driven nuts by media, apocalyptic dingbats and assorted sightseers. There are only a couple of hundred people, and it beats having the center full of asylum seekers trying to escape before they’re deported. Townsfolk seem to prefer real aliens.”
“Okay, do it.”
The aircraft landed a cautious distance from the edge of the camp, and they made their way across open ground that was already searingly hot. Bari took a deep breath. Yes, you’re strolling into an alien army camp. It’s no big deal. He hesitated at the visible edge of the shield and wondered if he was going to get a massive shock from it until he noticed ussissi trotting back and forth as if it wasn’t there. When he plucked up courage to walk through, the hairs on his arms stood up and he felt a mild tingling; but the most shocking aspect of it was the cool, moist air that enveloped him.
“Whatever it costs, I’ll buy it,” Shukry said, basking in the blissful sensation. “Oh, this is great…”
“It’s a damn shame we didn’t get to meet them when we weren’t on trial.”
Bari had a fleeting thought that this single piece of technology alone could transform an economy. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the power source. And then there was the gene bank. And ITX. What else?
No, don’t even think about profit. Concentrate on not ending up like most of Umeh. Concentrate on the environment.
Esganikan Gai ambled towards them with a slight swagger that might have been indicative of trouble brewing, had she been human. It was the first lesson about assumptions in what was likely to be a very long list. Behind her, Shan Frankland’s body language was much easier to read. She looked like she was used to having people scatter in panic before her; she was six feet tall, and althou
gh her uniform had seen better days, physically intimidating. That wasn’t the kind of woman Bari was used to. He wondered which of the two he’d really be dealing with.
That was disorienting, but it was nothing compared to the interior of the bubble-shaped ship that formed Esganikan’s quarters. The first thing Bari did was almost slam into a translucent bulkhead that seemed to move.
Oh my God. I’m in a spaceship. A real spaceship.
“Yes, it’s like a hall of mirrors in here,” Frankland said, oddly chummy, although her expression wasn’t sociable at all. Bari sat down on what he hoped was a seat. “And the scenery moves, so mind how you go.”
Bari turned to Esganikan. “What do you want to discuss first, Commander? We’ve got accommodation ready for you to inspect, and a complete team of environment scientists waiting to start work when you’re ready. You tell me.”
“I must have custody of the woman called Katya Prachy,” she said bluntly. It was very matter of fact, and yes, she really did have a double-voice like one of those Tibetan singers. It was riveting, especially as she seemed to have a faint English accent that was nothing like Frankland’s, and he could hear who taught her the language—Michallat. “This is what you call a war crime.”
“I’ve called in the FEU ambassador to tell him we’re starting extradition proceedings.”
“No. Inform him that he has to hand her to us as soon as he locates her, and if he fails to deliver her, then we will act.”
“I’m not sure what you mean by that.” Bari avoided Shukry’s eye. He didn’t want to hear more of the world according to Eddie Michallat. “But relations between us and the FEU aren’t very good at the moment.”
“Then it makes even more sense to do things our way.”
Frankland looked weary. “It’s probably a good idea to stand back and be uninvolved, Prime Minister,” she said. “The FEU won’t like the task force being based here while it carries out its operations, but from what I’ve seen they’re putting the frighteners on you anyway.”
“We still have concerns about their naval activity, yes.”
“We’ve seen the news this morning.”
“It might result in firing warning shots. I’ll be frank with you—I don’t know what their real intention is, because you’re not about to leave, are you?”
Esganikan’s plume bobbed like the crest of a Roman helmet. “Perhaps they think we might back down over Prachy if pressure is put on our hosts.”
Frankland didn’t look convinced. “Have you asked them?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe we need to call the ambassador in and ask again.”
Esganikan didn’t even look up. “Prime Minister, I used to have discussions with Jim Matsoukis and Canh Pho. They were aware of how we remediate planetary environments, and that your neighbors beyond the Pacific Rim States may be greatly upset by this. Are you prepared to experience what the isenj Northern Assembly did when Umeh was prepared for restoration?”
“What’s the alternative?”
“We’ll restore the planet with you or without you.”
He believed her. It was impossible to doubt now, even if Brussels seemed to think it was a bluff. Did they learn nothing? “We invited your intervention, so we stand by our decision. We even held a referendum on it, and the majority of the population still support it.”
“This will be beyond war. What follows will be nothing like peace. It’s fundamental and permanent change, the curbing of your species, but your nation will escape the worst of it. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Esganikan said it very quietly and it was all the more terrifying for that. Bari knew; he’d always known. But feeling it in the pit of his stomach was new and sapped his confidence.
The FEU started this, remember. They brought the trouble to the door. So make the best of a bad job.
It didn’t feel like betrayal at all. It felt like survival, and Zammett would have nuked Australia for less.
All empires had their day, though, and all fell, so the FEU would have to make its own choices.
“Okay, let’s give their personnel the choice of remaining here, and ship the rest home if they want to go, given the likelihood of conflict. Shukry, you can arrange that.” At least I don’t send those poor bastards home just to be fried. Bari stopped short of asking her what she meant by the worst of it. “I know I should be talking about consultation with the UN, but the FEU doesn’t listen to them.”
“The UN has no power to deliver results,” Esganikan said. “So I’ll deal with those in power.”
“Why don’t you let me talk to the FEU ambassador?” Frankland asked. “Tell him he’s running out of time.”
Frankland kept looking at her watch, as if she had some other planet to invade with her alien chums. How did a copper like her ever get in that kind of position? The gloves bothered him for some reason. Nobody wore gloves in this heat, no human anyway. Esganikan wore them too. Perhaps it was some Eqbas etiquette thing.
“What do you think you can achieve?” Esganikan asked her, as if they hadn’t planned any of it and were just mulling things over.
“I like to do things by the book,” Frankland said. “Whatever the state of my warrant card, I’m still a copper, and I have rules.”
The two women stared at each other for a few moments and Bari felt forgotten, not a feeling he was used to as prime minister. Then Esganikan nodded as if she was just giving Frankland permission to take a day off.
“We’d like to talk to you about the gene bank, too,” Frankland said. “That’s my part of ship, so to speak. Would your government be prepared to produce seed from the non-patented food staples and distribute them at cost?”
There hadn’t been unpatented seed available for at least two centuries. Bari had to think twice about it. He was too firmly stuck on the impending showdown with the FEU to concentrate on agriculture. “That’s going to upset the European and Asian agricorp multinats.”
“I’d hate to do that, Prime Minister.” It was the nearest Frankland had come to a smile. “Yes, it’s going to destroy their business. But that’s not my problem, and I don’t have shares.”
Esganikan Gai looked at her with an expression that could have been anything from disapproval to curiosity. “But this might interfere with natural population decline. If you distribute food crops that have resistance to drought and heat, then the natural reduction by famine is lost.”
Frankland didn’t even blink. “But it drives out genetically engineered crops, so it contributes to the overall remediation.”
Jesus, they’re debating whether letting more people starve to death is a bad thing. Aliens…okay, but a human saying that?
Bari knew he was still avoiding the most painful issue. It wasn’t just about replanting the forests, or reducing temperatures, or finding a home for those macaws they were so worried about. It was about reducing the number of humans on the planet by billions.
Slow or fast? He wasn’t sure whether he was cooperating with genocide or staving off inevitable disaster with hard pragmatism, but either way it was going to happen, and his duty was to make sure it didn’t happen to Australia. Technically, he had a duty to his Pacific Rim allies too, but he found his focus had narrowed fast.
And there was still an FEU carrier group in the neighborhood.
He’d focus on that. Maybe he’d be a hero in the end, but he also ran the risk of being a monster. It was hard to judge. All he had was the here and now, and he couldn’t stop the Eqbas on his own even if he wanted to.
“I’ll call in the FEU ambassador this afternoon,” he said. “Meanwhile, we’ll send in our resettlement and immigration teams to get the colonists moved. Let’s leave the Actaeon crew until we hear what the FEU has to say for itself.”
As meetings went, it was the most surreal imaginable. He couldn’t think of anything to say as they flew back to Kamberra. Persis and Shukry sat scribbling on their handhelds, heads down.
“You think I’ve sold m
y soul to the devil,” Bari said at last. “And not even discussed with the full cabinet.”
“No, PM.”
“Not at all, PM…”
“Come on.” Damn, he was going to have to tell the cabinet that it wasn’t for discussion. Nairn and Andreaou realized that, but the others would want to complicate matters. If he could hand them a quick win, something spectacular that made life a lot better for a lot of people, their people, then they’d face facts. “Look, there’s been no shooting yet but we’re at war, and not with the FEU. I’m collaborating. I don’t happen to think the Eqbas are a hundred percent wrong, either. I’ll go to the country on it if I have to.”
“Like you said, PM, the Eqbas aren’t leaving any time soon,” said Shukry. “I’m not sure that going down in a blaze of glory defending all mankind is any more moral than saving your own tribe if you can. It just makes better movies.”
Persis, ever the pragmatist, nodded. “And the FEU or Sinostates wouldn’t think twice about paving us over for a vehicle park.”
That made it all right, then. Bari leaned his forehead against the window, imagining the endless arid bush irrigated and alive again, and realized what a bloody hard job it was to be judge and jury.
Surang, Eqbas Vorhi: Da Shapakti’s clan home.
Rayat rushed to check the headlines as soon as Shapakti’s son Mejiku opened the door. The family were used to him by now. He was Dad’s loony gethes pal, not an alien lab specimen, and it was comforting to have at least one place in the galaxy where he wasn’t automatically mistrusted.
“The gethes are very afraid,” said Mejiku, following him into the huge central living room that doubled as a kitchen and general meeting place. “I’ve watched the transmissions. They have all their armies ready to fight.”
“We’re so lovable, aren’t we?” Rayat gazed at the news feed, unsurprised. “You could call it the indomitable human spirit, but given the inevitable outcome, I’d call it stupidity.”
Eqbas families were as strictly matriarchal as the Wess’ej wess’har, but males were the majority by only two to one; the huge clans of four or even five husbands per isan that he’d seen on Wess’ej were very rare here. Rayat still found it hard to think of the Wess’ej wess’har as the redneck cousins. He stood watching the BBChan coverage of the standoff between Australia and the FEU. He had to do it now. Shan would have too much on her plate to spare him any time once the fighting started.