Meridian Days (17 page)

After a delay of seconds she turned and walked towards the door which connected her room to the main dome. I watched her go, my heart racing. I had a vague plan in mind: I would take her down to the beach, return to my launch and pick her up. Then we would leave for a distant island and lie low while Trevellion's men scoured the planet.

She had hardly passed from sight before she returned, her movements just as lacklustre. I felt a surge of despair at her failure to follow the simple command — then I saw the guard, tall and intimidating, stationed in the doorway behind her. He was staring directly at me and, before my despair at Fire's failure to escape could turn to rage, a hand closed on my upper arm, in a gesture almost gentle.

"Benedict..." The tone seemed sincerely pained. I turned to see the guard who, just that afternoon, had beaten me senseless.

Tamara Trevellion strode around the curve of the dome, her spined crest bristling with anger. She halted and regarded me with those flat, grey and vacant eyes. "Benedict," she said. "I might have known."

The golden wrap she wore coiled about her body and flung over one shoulder, far from conferring her with humanity, had the very opposite effect: it served only to emphasize the fact of her alien appearance. I found it hard to believe that a human mind, with the usual complement of emotions we take for granted in a fellow citizen, functioned between the flattened, elongated ridges of her skull.

Fire remained standing in the middle of her room, staring at nothing.

I was aware of the guard's grip on my arm, restraining me from doing anything I might later regret. I worked to keep my voice under control. "Why the hell are you keeping her imprisoned?"

The gills at her throat opened, showing raw, red vents, in a gesture I thought might indicate impatience. She waved. "Return him to the party, Tanner."

The guard moved to comply.

"I know what you did to her," I began.

This had an immediate effect. In the process of turning, she stopped. Her head, itself like an individual fish, turned to regard me independent of her body. Her expression gave nothing away, but her silence spoke volumes.

She dismissed Tanner. The scales of her mailed cheeks glittered like sequins in the light from the dome.

"Perhaps, Mr Benedict, you might like to explain exactly what you mean by that?"

I thought quickly. I decided to keep to myself the fact that I knew there was nothing wrong with Fire.

Instead I said, "You've used the implant to drug her..."

She considered me. "Benedict, your concern for Fire is shared by me, which is why she had to be treated, for her own good."

I stared at the fish-woman. "Just as Jade had to be
treated
— for her own good? You implanted her too, didn't you?"

She held her ground. "Jade was ill, Benedict. She had a similar condition to Fire's, which had to be monitored. We had to equip her with an implant."

I refrained from calling her a liar. "And it was just coincidence that these implants could be used to administer drugs, too?" I shook my head. "You wanted to control your daughters' lives, to make them totally subservient, because of some inferiority of your own. No doubt that's why Jade killed herself — she'd had enough of your mental cruelty."

Her gills flapped open, shunting air.

I went on, "And that's not the only death you know about, is it? You know why Rodriguez and Abe were killed—"

"Abraham?" She seemed genuinely shocked. "Abraham Cunningham? I had no idea..."

"They were killed by Weller, Steiner's adviser. They knew too much about something." I paused. "Why did you wipe Fire's memory of Jade and Hannah Rodriguez?" I asked.

"How did you—" she began, then stopped herself.

"So you don't deny it?" I said. I stared at her. "What the hell's going on, Trevellion?"

"Benedict..." I detected a harsh, threatening note in her voice.

"You're in this as deep as Steiner and Weller," I said. "Just wait till Doug Foulds finds out—"

Trevellion flung back her head and made a sound like laughter. "As if Foulds could do anything!"

"We'll see," I said, making to go.

She stopped me with her next words. "Do you want to see Fire again after tonight, Benedict?"

I stared at her. "What do you mean?"

"Just don't do anything to spoil tonight's event, and you might see Fire again. If you go around shouting murder..."

I looked through the dome at Fire. She was staring out from her crystal cage, a figure of tragedy, regarding me with unseeing eyes.

Quite suddenly I could no longer bear Trevellion's company. She seemed to exude, along with her odour of the sea, an aura of malign intent. I made a strangled sound of inarticulate disgust, hurried around the main dome and rejoined the party.

I snatched a drink from a floating tray and knocked it back in a fit of anger. I went over what I had said to Trevellion, and could not help feeling that I had let her off lightly. I wanted to confront her again, to be more forceful, perhaps even threaten her with physical violence.

I was taking a second drink when across the lawn I saw the stocky figure of Doug Foulds. He was standing next to a euphor-fume pedestal, glass in hand, laughing at something someone had told him. He appeared to be enjoying himself and, with two murders unsolved and investigations to be made, this infuriated me. I was checking to make sure that Trevellion was nowhere in sight when Doug turned and saw me. He seemed to sober instantly. He hurried across the lawn; I was conscious of the guards, hoped that my meeting with him would not get back to Trevellion. I had no doubt that if she wanted to keep Fire away from me in future she would have little difficulty in doing so.

Doug cleared his throat. "Ah... Bob."

I stared at him. "Didn't you get my message yesterday to call me back?"

He looked uncomfortable, glanced around the gathering as if afraid we might be overheard. He took my arm and steered me to the perimeter of the garden and behind a squat, steel sculpture, effectively shielding us from prying eyes. The privacy suited me fine, but I wondered why he thought it necessary.

"I know about Abe," he said.

"You do?"

"That's what you called about yesterday, wasn't it? His body was discovered last night, and we traced your call from the hotel that afternoon."

"Before you start suspecting me," I said, "I know who killed both Abe and the Rodriguez woman."

"Go on."

"I know who did it — all I need to know now is the motive.
Why
he killed Abe and Rodriguez. I'll leave that to you, though. I've had quite enough." I stared at him. "I suppose you want to know who
he
is?"

He looked me straight in the eye. "I already know who killed Abe and Hannah," he said.

Confusion, a feeling I was becoming well acquainted with of late, swamped me. "You do? Then why the hell haven't you done something about it?" I gestured across the lawn to where Weller was in conversation with Steiner.

Doug glanced away, nervous. "I've been promoted," he said, in barely a whisper.

I shook my head, attempting to determine the logic of his words. "Promoted? How the hell can you be promoted? You hold the top police job on the planet!"

"I'm being transferred. I leave Meridian for Earth tomorrow."

"Congratulations," I snapped. "But that still doesn't explain why you haven't arrested Weller." I stopped, then went on, "The authorities on Earth have something to do with this, haven't they?"

"Look, Bob — I hate all this as much as you do. Abe was a friend of mine too. Yesterday I made some enquiries, found that Weller was seen entering the Meridian Star on the night of Abe's death. I took him in for questioning, but an hour later the Governor called and ordered me to release him. A short time later I was told I'd been promoted and would be leaving for Earth on the next vector out. Hell, Bob... I feel part of the whole corrupt set up. But what can I do?"

"What's going on, Doug?" I murmured.

He shook his head. "I honestly don't know."

I made a hopeless gesture of defeat. "Christ, can't you... I don't know — isn't there someone we can contact—?"

"Wake up, Bob," Doug said, not unkindly. "Who? Who the hell can we tell? I'd like to avenge Abe's death, but I don't want to die a martyr." He looked at me with compassion. "We're pawns, Bob. You and me, Abe, everyone else. Even Steiner. There's nothing we can do. We don't even understand the rules of the game... Take my advice. Go back to your island, forget what happened."

His complacency detonated an explosion of anger deep inside me. "Forget? Abe was a damn good friend, Doug — and you say forget?"

At that moment, the band stopped playing. For a second the murmurous conversation of the guests filled the silence, then this too ceased. All eyes turned to the dome, and Tamara Trevellion made her second triumphal entrance of the evening. She had changed her costume; she was wearing a white robe now, with a large crown like so many icicles, and it crossed my mind that she resembled the fairytale Snow Queen. She was flanked by her surgeon and, I saw, Fire. My stomach gave an involuntary lurch. Fire was staring straight ahead, unseeing. It was all I could do to stop myself running through the crowd to get at her. As if to counter this very contingency, the trio were all but surrounded by a cadre of armed guards.

Trevellion spoke into a microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you for your patience, which I assure you will be well rewarded. The event is about to commence. If you would be so kind as to follow me..." She stepped from the patio and, with Fire and the surgeon in tow, cut a swathe through the crowd and disappeared between the shrubbery and statuary.

I was about to follow the procession when I saw, beside the footbridge which connected the garden to the next valley, the tall, intimidating figure of Director Steiner. He was standing very still, a statuesque silhouette against the flaring aurora of Brightside. He seemed intent on the progress of the audience towards the amphitheatre. There was no sign of Weller.

Doug saw the direction of my gaze. He gripped my arm. "Bob... Don't be so bloody stupid! If Weller sees you—"

"I want to know what's going on," I said. I shook off his hand and hurried away over the lawn.

I paused before Steiner — or rather
beneath
him — and it was some time before he deigned to notice my presence. He was lost in some digitalised reality of his augmentation; heiroglyphs sequenced across the carotid spar of his occipital implant. His eyes were glazed.

"Benedict?" he said at last.

"What's going on, Steiner?" I asked.

He turned his gaze from contemplation of Trevellion's guards to me. "That depends on what you know, Benedict," he said. He turned and strolled across the bridge, and something in his pace suggested that he was inviting me to join him. I did so, catching him up. We left the bridge and passed behind the stand of fir trees which concealed the meadow. "Well?" he asked at last.

"I know Weller was responsible for the deaths of Abe and Rodriguez," I said.

I was relieved when he stopped and stared at me. He sighed. "I don't expect you to believe me, Benedict — but I had no say in the matter. I am not a killer, and their deaths pain me. Not that this will help them, or you..." He began walking again.

"Who does Weller work for, Steiner? Earth, or Meridian? Or are they both in it together?"

We had paused beside a gap in the fir trees. To my right I could just make out the broad upper sweep of the meadow's far bank. To my left was a long drop to the star-silvered ocean. As we stood there, side by side in a silence that seemed to last for ever, I noticed movement in the periphery of my vision. Across the sea, perhaps kilometres distant, I made out the approach of a large helicopter. As yet, the sound of it had not reached us. Steiner had turned and was staring as if in an upright coma. He seemed all but physically removed. At last he snapped out of it and spoke briefly into his handset. He turned and looked through the gap in the trees, across the meadow at the phalanx of guards which occupied the same position on the opposite bank. "Steiner?"

He seemed surprised that I was still beside him; he looked down condescendingly. "Benedict, this is bigger than both you and me. If I told you..." he gazed out across the steadily filling amphitheatre, distracted for a second, "and it got back to my superiors, then they would have no compunction about eliminating you." He stopped there, and I thought I detected emotion in his tone as he went on, "Look what happened to Abe Cunningham... I told him, I warned him that if what I told him got back to Weller—"

"What happened?" I whispered.

Steiner closed his eyes. "Cunningham didn't listen to me, Benedict. Either that, or he didn't believe me. He confronted Weller. He didn't repeat everything I'd told him... But he said enough to convince Weller he knew too much and was dangerous—"

He stooped suddenly and swung in a quick about turn, as if in response to some message from his computer implant. He stared out to sea.

I received the subliminal impression, then, that something, I had no idea what, was about to happen. The number of Trevellion's guards on duty, the approaching helicopter, the Director's strange behaviour...

"What's is it?" I asked, urgency in my tone.

"Let's just say that I have a little score to settle before I leave Meridian."

"A score?" I repeated, surprised. "You're planning to disrupt Trevellion's event?"

Before I could find out, a blinding bolt of laser light flashed from the firs and hit Steiner in the chest. It deflected from his augmented breast-plate, ricochetted backand scored my ribcage like a lance of red hot iron. I cried out and fell to the ground. As I lay there, dazed with pain, I saw Steiner take off. He ran from the path and into the cover of the fir trees: a second bolt followed him, striking timber, and I was gladdened by his escape. I was half aware of movement behind me, as Trevellion's guards broke cover and gave chase, shadowy figures against the dark boles of the trees. I tried to determine how badly I was injured. My fingers touched the drilled furrow. There seemed to be very little blood — the laser had cauterised the wound on the way through — but the pain was excruciating.