Ambassador 1_Seeing Red Read online

  The stream of thought-noise overwhelmed me. Images, sounds, light, memories all assaulted me at the same time. Information overload.

  I raised my hand to my head, half-muttering, eshi, retreat, back off, another word that was hard to translate.

  The reception range contracted and focused. Familiar sensations crawled through me. The warmth, sharing, the mental intimacy. I met Thayu’s eyes, focused and saw myself as she saw me: a bit taller than her, but scrawny and, in the artificial light, incredibly pale. She felt concerned about me, and worried and amused at my impression of her.

  What’s a “cat”?

  It’s an . . . animal.

  I look like an animal?

  Not look like, remind me of one.

  Is that good or bad?

  But she didn’t need a direct answer. There was no hiding the truth. A warm glow hit my brain as her response. Flattered. Much too close, too much intimacy.

  I damn well knew I wasn’t going to keep this blasted thing on for one moment longer than absolutely necessary. Of course, she could follow that thought as well.

  I embarrass you?

  Just forget it, right?

  She retreated at that, shocked, scared, and I knew I had no right to be harsh. But damn it, damn it. I had cried over Inaru this morning. I was not going to start any of this cross-species emotional closeness again.

  “Let’s go.”

  Much better to speak aloud, much better.

  I thanked Eirani with a nod and went into the hall. Neither woman looked at the other, but I sensed they had reached a truce. Thayu protecting me, and Eirani a part of Renkati’s staff.

  See, the feeder is good for something.

  I just felt sick, avoiding her eyes. By now, she would know everything.

  Devlis waited in the hall, as well as a young woman from the office whose name had escaped me. They greeted me with polite bows, each dressed in demure khaki with blue pinstripes. Devlis carried the reader he had been using in the communication room, and the young woman’s belt bristled with listening equipment. She stepped forward and attached a tiny cylinder to the collar of my jacket. A microphone, no bigger than a pin. Whatever happened, whichever way the vote went, it was sure to be recorded for posterity.

  Meanwhile, Thayu had opened the front door and we all went out. Evi and Telaris already waited there, one on either side of the door. Both had changed into formal attire: blue shirts and black trousers. They displayed no guns or other weapons, but both men carried an entire shop of electronics strapped to their belts, arms and legs. Various readers, listening and recording equipment and goodness knew what else. Weapons would feature in there somewhere.

  I gestured. “Mashara, lead the way.”

  No one said a thing as we made our way down the gallery to the stairs, down to ground level. We went past the uniform fitter’s shop, closed at this time of the day, and out the arched entrance into a courtyard. Faint blue light silvered the trees and abandoned chairs and tables on terraces. Water burbled lazily in a fountain.

  I remembered the red flash and increased my stride to meet up with Evi. “Mashara, did anything happen in the city overnight?”

  A sharp look. “The Delegate should be assured that safety is not a concern here.”

  “That’s not what I mean, mashara. Last night I couldn’t sleep, and while I was on the balcony, there was a flash of light and I heard an alarm go off.”

  Comprehension dawned on his face. “There was a minor disturbance at the Exchange. Nothing to worry about.”

  Did these men see literally everything in terms of my safety? “I’m not worried, just curious.”

  “An approaching craft experienced a shift. There were no injuries.”

  “Shift?”

  “It’s a minor malfunction in the Exchange, causing an aircraft to jump a very small distance.”

  And now they told me. I’d never liked this transfer business. Pick an aircraft up from one point in space and create a loop of antimatter through space to deposit it somewhere else. The process was supposed to be double and triple checked, but in that moment of nothingness, possibilities for accidents were endless and frightening. What if, through a silly mistake, you ended up somewhere in mid space, and could do nothing but keep flying until fuel and oxygen ran out?

  And if the Exchange had something to do with it, why had there been that red flash . . . Later, my subconscious told me.

  Thayu frowned at me. What is “red”?

  I’ll explain later.

  Evi led us across to the other side of the courtyard, where the entrance to the gamra building was black in deep shadow.

  Other figures moved in the same direction, all dressed in blue, all different species. There were tall Damarcians, diminutive Kedrasi with copper hair and leopard-spotted skin, black Indrahui of whom only the whites of the eyes stood out. All walking two by two, each delegate with his or her zhayma. My escort drew silent looks and civilised frowns.

  In the corridor that led into the main building, even more delegates joined the steady stream. Out of side passages, down stairs, they came and merged into the flow.

  Ahead, two large doors stood open into the inner sanctum of gamra, signified by a carved arch which carried the symbols of the founding entities including the two-sun symbol for Asto. Directly above the door, in the middle of the arch, blazed the five-pointed star symbol of Barresh.

  Under this work of art we passed into the entrance of the hall. Into the dimness, the golden light on the central floor, the vastness of the member stands which surrounded the central dais.

  Evi and Telaris peeled off at the door. Thayu led me down the steps into the giant amphitheatre, past benches, past delegates carrying readers, holding up traffic in the aisle by talking to each other. Thousands of delegates were getting to their seats, streaming down the stairs and to both sides.

  “Delegate Cory Wilson.”

  I stopped and turned. A man was behind me, his flowing cloak billowing over his shoulders while he made his way down. Marin Federza, in all-blues. He bowed politely. Delegates in benches on either side of the aisle looked up. One elbowed his neighbour, whispered something and then they both stared.

  Marin Federza drew closer, enveloping me in a cloud of musk-scented air.

  “About your request for paid work—I have spoken to the appropriate persons at the Trader Guild and the Ledger.” He spoke Isla.

  “Thank you for doing that.” My hopes rose.

  “They said they weren’t looking to appoint a liaison contact at the moment.”

  Oh. I shrugged. It was always worth asking. “Maybe in the future?” However long I could hold out without payment.

  “Maybe, but I did speak to a few others, and there is someone who might want to discuss the possibility of paid work with you. Could I send them your details?”

  “Is this within the Trader Guild?”

  “My contact is not a Trader, but I’ve had dealings with him.”

  “What sort of work?”

  “I don’t know. He didn’t tell me.”

  This was all suitably vague enough for the contact to be Renkati.

  I glanced around to find Thayu, who was wrestling her way back up the stairs, as she seemed to have missed the fact that I had stopped.

  “All right, send him the information.”

  “Thank you.”

  With a polite bow, he turned on his heel and strode down the stairs, towards Thayu. She hesitated, but said nothing. Via the feeder, and her eyes, I spotted a twitch of dislike across Marin Federza’s face as he met her. Her feeling matched it.

  You know him well? I asked.

  He’s always too keen to please. She closed the distance between us and continued in normal speech, “Did he say he has work for you?”

  “He said he might know someone who has work for me.”

  “The Trader Guild?”

  “No. He is going to pass on my details.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t sound convinced, and I
didn’t want to discuss the issue, and didn’t want to explain why I was doing this. My speech should be my first priority now.

  We continued down the stairs in silence.

  About two-thirds into the hall, Thayu led me into an aisle to the left, along a gallery where delegates and their support staff sat in boxed-off compartments, flanked by partitions high enough to shelter the occupants from view when seated. Thayu opened the door to one such compartment. “This is our box.”

  Again, this was an unexpected privilege. Most delegates sat in the gallery on benches.

  This particular box had three rows of seats.

  Thayu made for the desk at the front with sound equipment and screens. My place was in the middle of the box, directly behind Thayu, where a desk light threw a pool of light on the smooth surface of a table.

  I sat down, put my reader on the table and slipped on the earpiece that lay on the desk. The holo-screen flickered into life, displaying the gamra logo. Devlis and the female assistant settled in the benches behind me.

  I flicked through the meeting timetable. My speech was the second item on the agenda.

  Thayu leaned back in the chair, gazing lazily over the lower benches and the central floor, where a spotlight cast Chief Delegate Akhtari’s empty table in bright light.

  All around, delegates were walking to their seats, talking with each other, silhouettes in the dark—

  A muffled shout. A group of about six or seven people had emerged from the entrance under the galleries, the door that gave direct access to the centre of the hall and Delegate Akhtari’s chair. Since not all the lights were on yet, they were no more than dark shapes, now going up the stairs.

  I glanced at Thayu; she returned my look with a frown, fiddling with something on her belt. Her frown deepened.

  What is it?

  “Ezhya Palayi has just arrived.”

  What? Asto’s Chief Coordinator was somewhere in that group of dark figures that was now settling in one of the delegates’ boxes halfway across the hall? I remembered Chief Delegate Akhtari’s voice, important prime delegates will be in attendance.

  “What is he doing here?” But I already knew the answer: to hear my reply to his ultimatum, delivered to me by Delegate Ayanu.

  Thayu answered, Indeed.

  15

  THERE WERE REASONS gamra manners stood stiff with formality. Preventing ugly cockfights was one of them. That didn’t mean they didn’t happen, though, especially when Coldi were involved. Asto was notorious for its disregard of the conventions, and I was sure that plenty of rules of behaviour were going to be disregarded today.

  I stared across the hall, clenching my jaws. I don’t care who he is. I won’t let myself be bullied under the table.

  Thayu glanced over her shoulder; she had heard that thought, of course.

  Don’t. He’ll destroy you. I’m serious. The statement brimmed with emotion.

  I met her eyes squarely. Let him try.

  She turned completely in her seat and stared at me, mouth open. I could feel her confusion. I was taking on her supreme leader to whom she had sworn loyalty, and was closer in hierarchy than I realised. Much closer. Something about her son’s father, who was a close advisor to Ezhya Palayi, but she clamped down on those thoughts before I could fully comprehend them.

  Thayu, is there anything I should know?

  The deep boom of the gong reverberated through the hall. People rose. Additional lights flicked on in the ceiling.

  Thayu turned back to facing the middle of the hall. I could almost feel her heart racing.

  Thayu?

  Her thoughts came through strongly. I support you, and Nicha. Very fierce.

  It seemed I wasn’t the only one to have secrets.

  The door in the centre of the hall clanged open once more. Two guards marched out and to the sides, lining up and bowing when Delegate Akhtari entered the hall. The ceiling light glittered off the gold embroidery on the hems of her robe. White hair flowed over her shoulders, a fine gossamer curtain that belied the harshness of the woman underneath.

  In strong regal strides, she glided to the dais.

  A second beat of the gong and she sat down, folding her hands on the table.

  People settled in their seats with a rustle of clothes and documents.

  Light dimmed until much of the hall was in darkness and a strong beam from the ceiling silvered Delegate Akhtari’s hair.

  Her voice rang through the hall. “Delegates.”

  The last scuffles and coughs died away. All through the audience, little lights indicated screens of readers, gilding the faces of delegates from below.

  “Zhamata meets on the fifty-sixth day of the second quarter. In this meeting, the establishment will discuss seven items. We shall now turn to the first item on the agenda. Delegate Mavros will report on his preliminary talks into the expansion of the Exchange network to include Ziskmirthar and other geographically isolated areas of Indrahui.”

  The delegate for Kedras came to the speaker’s table. Like all Kedrasi, he was small of stature and almost vanished behind the structure except for his flaming red hair, but his voice sounded confident. “Delegates, the question here before us is a vexed one. The local authorities of Ziskmirthar have applied to the establishment to open a second Exchange node for Indrahui, independent of the main node.”

  A few delegates in the galleries rose.

  A clear voice came from somewhere up in the gallery. “This is lunacy if it is allowed to proceed, after all the effort the Indrahui establishment has put into peacekeeping! This will reopen the conflict we’ve spent years trying to quell.”

  People thumped on their desks, a way to show appreciation.

  “Language, Delegate!” Delegate Akhtari rang a bell. “The delegate for Kedras will continue his speech uninterrupted.” Her eyes blazed in the direction of the man who had spoken, a black Indrahui of the same race as Evi and Telaris. I wondered if they were listening up there.

  At the dais, the Kedrasi delegate continued unfazed, showing maps and proposals.

  I studied the text of the speech that had just arrived on my reader. An explosive subject that was sure to raise heated discussions. Indrahui was like the Middle East on Earth—always a hotbed of conflict, and could not settle on a single policy to deal with gamra. If the relationship between Nations of Earth and gamra broke down, Earth could well end up in a similar manner. Because even if Nations of Earth didn’t want to deal with gamra as observer or member, it would be certain that several countries would continue their relations with gamra independently. Greece, for example, would never give up the advantage gamra had delivered it by putting the Exchange in its capital. Other countries, too, would see the benefit. Countries with valuables to export, or countries that wanted fancy weaponry.

  After the Kedrasi delegate had—barely—finished his speech, another delegate stood up on the stairs. The spotlight revealed a member of the race that had once been common and plentiful on Indrahui. Hair grew all the way down her neck as if she wore a fuzzy scarf. Her face was coarse.

  They were fighting for land to be returned to them. The newcomers—the black Indrahui like Evi and Telaris—declared them primitive. Not fit to be called human, black Indrahui said, and I wondered if most gamra people thought the same of Earth, or if Aghyrians thought the same way of Coldi, the people their forefathers had created, or of all the other people who could be traced back to Aghyrian origin, which was more than ninety percent of all humanoids. Scary.

  The woman declared, in simple but clear sentences that, having been given the island of Ziskmirthar as part of the so-called Indrahui peacekeeping solution, she and her people should be allowed their own Exchange. To which a lot of others shouted that they could not expect gamra to pay for this, seeing as none of these original inhabitants had either the funds to travel across the network or the ability to pilot aircraft.

  More shouting followed, and inevitably, Delegate Akhtari’s ringing of the bell. Her voice boomed
, amplified, over the racket, language, Delegates, language.

  When the noise died down, political opponents put proposals for consideration. The Kedrasi speaker accepted them and finished up by saying that he and his independent negotiators would consider the merits of each and report back to zhamata when they had finished. That pleased the meeting; the bureaucratic machine had turned one cog.

  Then Chief Delegate Akhtari declared time was up.

  My heart skipped a beat, and another one.

  She gestured at me.

  This was it. My legs rigid, I rose from my seat, grabbing the reader from the table. On the way up to the entrance of the box, my foot caught on a step. I would have fallen had strong hands not grabbed me from behind.

  Thayu. Warm feelings seeped in through the feeder link.

  Thanks.

  I felt that she was nervous, possibly more nervous than I was.

  We reached the gallery and turned left to walk towards the stairs. Lights came on in the ceiling to light my path to the speaker’s dais.

  People craned their necks to look at me, and whispered while Chief Delegate Akhtari introduced me. I didn’t hear any of her words and instead repeated the first lines of my speech in my mind. Thayu walked a few steps behind me, and I felt she was the only reason I kept walking.

  Under thumping on the desks, I climbed up, into the pool of bright light, turned to face the crowd and bowed.

  I put down my reader and thumbed the screen back into life, all movements mechanical. How much depended on my success here. Thayu rushed forward and attached a tiny clip to my ear. She indicated the screen on the dais. Turn it up here, off with this control, press it again to turn it back on. I’ll be just behind you if you need me. A fleeting warm touch of her hand, another one of those Coldi gestures.

  Thank you.

  She gave me an intense look and retreated into the shadow. I could still feel her, though, with me as Nicha should have been.

  The spotlight brightened.

  It was time.

  “Delegates.”

  My voice echoed in the hall, where nothing in the darkness indicated that at least two thousand people populated the stands.