The Szuiltan Alliance (The Szuiltan Trilogy) (31 page)

Jason stood impatiently nearby.

"What are you doing?"

Steve glanced at him before taking another deep breath. Jason did not notice the slight smile on his face.

"Just hurry up will you. People are waiting to meet us."

"When you've travelled more, you might just understand," said Steve, taking one last breath before striding across the spaceport ground towards the nearby buildings.

Jason hurried to catch him up.

"You think there'd be more security," said Jason, falling into step.

"Just because they're not on top of you doesn't mean they're not there," said Steve. "On most of these places they watch from a distance but they can be on you in seconds if you try anything out of the ordinary. Planets like Aks and Earth, in particular, never forget that they're at war. We're all potential enemies."

Of course
, thought Jason.
I should have spotted the sensors in the ground, the surveillance systems on the buildings, even high above us, almost invisible. I'm making a fool of myself asking these stupid questions. The wait must have bothered me more than I thought.

He hated to admit it to himself, but now that they had arrived on Aks he was nervous. This was the first time he had been sent into a war zone. The first time he had operated where the local soldiers would shoot to kill rather than arrest. He tried to push such thoughts from his mind.

By the time they reached the automatic doors into the buildings, spaceport security were there to meet them and to hand over their ID. papers. Steve silently noted that the staff were all human, no Reagold droids. Was it by choice? Or had the war depleted their treasury so much that they could not afford the niceties of technology? The question was rhetorical but he found it fascinated him.

Once past security it was a short walk through an enclosed corridor to the open expanse of the main terminal area, its high ceiling so far above that it was almost lost in a heat haze from the upper air temperature controllers.

Steve nodded towards the crowds that swarmed through the immense area.

"Do you think we'll find your friends in this?" He had to raise his voice to be heard over the sudden cacophony of sound that hit them as they exited the soundproof corridor.

"I've never met them before, but they'll find us."

"In that case, let's find a bar and have a drink. They can find us there as well as anywhere else."

Ursa watched the two men head into the crowds and noted several of the rebel members move after them. They would not make contact yet. It was too soon.

She had recognised the younger man, the Council agent, from the image sent with the coded message, but she had not seen the trader before. He looked a bit, well...
basic
was the only word she could think of, although his typical trader trackovers and unshaven after-flight look could partly explain that. Nevertheless, she found herself thinking he was attractive, in a crude, unrefined way. It made her realise for the first time that she had not thought that about any of the many men who passed back and forth through the rebel stronghold in the outer suburbs. For some reason the thought made her uneasy.

The younger man, while not unattractive, had stirred no such thoughts in her. The most he had done was send a guilty reminder about John through her system. She still felt responsible for his involvement in all this, and she still felt what she considered an unhealthy desire to take him to her bed. She seemed to alternate between wanting to be his mother and wanting to be his lover.

I'm one seriously screwed up bitch
, she thought, making herself smile.

She saw John then, moving through the crowds towards her. She noted the look in his eyes, the look she had watched subtly change in recent weeks. Once it had been awe, love, worship, an idealised image of her that was as unrealistic as it was immature. But now the look had hardened, whether through experience or through association with the rebels she could not be sure. This look was more lustful. There was love there still, certainly, but it was encircled by an animal desire that sometimes excited her, but most often repulsed her. She was not sure she liked what John was becoming. As a child he had been the nicest and best man she had ever known. Now, as he found his manhood, he was turning hard, bitter. It was understandable, but it was also regrettable.

"Are we picking them up yet?" he asked as he came near her.

She found her eyes drawn to the scar by his left eye, reminder of a fight he had started with some of Walker's men after he had discovered the circumstance of her awakening. He had taken it hard that she had been naked, that so many around him had seen her body when he had not. His jealousy was just one of the factors she had seen grow and fester within him.

"Not yet. It's too early. We'll wait and watch for a while, see if there's any sign of surveillance from spaceport security. After all, they were held in quarantine for a long time."

John nodded, moving closer to Ursa as the crowds pressed around them. He placed a hand on her waist, let his thumb trace over the curve of her pelvic bone.

"I'd like to talk later, alone," he said, feeling his pulse quicken at her nearness.

"Maybe. We'll see. I have to follow them now. You wait a moment and then follow me."

Ursa turned and pushed into the crowd.

John watched her go. He wanted her,
needed
her. To hold her, to touch her, to feel her body beneath his. To see her naked as those bastards had! Once again his imagination threatened to swamp him, filling his mind with images of fumbling hands stripping her clothes off, stroking, touching, fondling her while she lay unconscious. He saw them raping her, although he had been assured this never happened. Assurances counted for nothing. His imagination was strong and vivid and overpowering. What others had seen, he needed to see. What others may have experienced, he needed to experience.

He turned away, confused, as he so often seemed to be lately. Twisted inside by the conflict of the purest love and adoration he had always felt for her with the bitter and even violent need he felt to take her, to physically dominate and use her. He was no longer sure what he felt, only that he needed to alleviate the pressure that built inside him whenever he saw her, and that no one else could ever be allowed to have her as he wanted her.

Chapter 47

"They knew each other. It was obvious. I smell conspiracy in this."

The Controller paced the thick-carpeted floor of his bedroom in agitation. He was dressed casually in a loose fitting robe that swirled with his movements, folds of darkness in the ochre garment twisting in the half-light thrown by a small lamp at the bedside.

Martin Lichfield stood to attention near the door to the room, nervous at the Controller's mood, hoping it was not directed at him. The order had been waiting for him as he returned to duty: Report to the Controller immediately, regardless of time. He had wondered why. He still wondered.

He heard birdsong on the journey to the Controller's private suite of rooms and for a moment it had thrown him, before he remembered the forest so nearby. The dawn chorus was a thing almost unheard on Earth, as birds adjusted to life inside carefully controlled climate domes, but here it was in its full glory, an orchestra of birds singing and whistling, announcing the dawn that approached. The wall of sound had captivated him, and he tried hard to imagine what it would be like to hear that each morning.

The Controller had still been asleep when he arrived to find his way barred by four of his colleagues standing guard outside the Controller's rooms. They had nodded their recognition of him, but otherwise remained grim faced, impassive. He was held until the Controller had been woken and told of his presence. As the guards parted and he entered the rooms he had noted proudly their professionalism. These were his people. This was his life now. Sharon could never share this, never understand his feelings on this. It hurt him to admit it, but he knew now, having returned, that she would be better off without him. He could no longer adjust to living in the world he had known. They had both suspected it for some time. Now he knew.

Martin had been ushered into the bedroom just as the Controller was finishing his morning toilet and preparing to eat breakfast. For the next ten minutes there had been silence as the Controller, served by three attendants, finished his food and drank his fresh leaf tea, a rare luxury indeed in a world of freeze-dried powders and reconstituted foodstuffs. Then the Controller stood, still without speaking, and began to pace.

Now, finally, the silence had been broken. Martin tried to think of the appropriate response, but all he could find was 'who?' and he was reluctant to ask such an ignorance-laden question.

"Loadra and the Reagold representative. I'm sure they know each other. It was in the eyes," said the Controller suddenly, seeing them now as the Reagold representative approached the throne, her eyes flickering towards Loadra, his obviously trying not to look at her. The recognition between the two was blatant for anyone with the slightest gift or training for the subtleties of diplomacy and government. They recognised each other but did not speak.

"If it was anything less than conspiracy they would not have hidden it." The Controller stopped pacing, much to the relief of Martin, and sat on the end of his bed.

"Presumably we have a recording of the event?" said Martin.

"Of course," interrupted the Controller, his tone suggesting he was offended by any suggestion to the contrary.

"Then I will have to study the recordings. They should show us conclusively."

"I don't need any recordings to know that something's going on between those two, perhaps the same something that's going on between Reagold and the Priesthood in general. I don't like not knowing what it is."

Martin said nothing. He was not yet fully conversant with this whole situation, but it was obvious that the Controller was concerned, intensely so it would seem, and he was not a foolish or easily worried man. Until he had the evidence of his own senses to support these theories, Martin could not fully accept them, but it was clear that there was
something
worth investigating.

The Controller seemed to gain some measure of control, his body softening, relaxing. The faint suggestion of a smile even played about his tensed lips.

"The reason I asked you here, Lieutenant Lichfield, was that I trust you. I trust all of my bodyguard when it comes to physical protection, but I suspect that Loadra may have his claws into some of them in terms of information. The history between you and Loadra is such that I cannot see the two of you collaborating on anything beyond those duties required of you by state. Therefore, you are the obvious choice for what I have in mind."

"I presume you have spying in mind?"

The Controller stiffened momentarily at the lack of formality and due respect in Martin's tone, but then relaxed. It was obvious that there was a suspicion and dislike of spying and subterfuge in this man. He was a soldier, in uniform for all to see, facing the enemy squarely and fairly across the battlefield. Deceit did not sit easily with such a man.

"I realise I’m asking a lot of you Lieutenant, far beyond what a soldier in your position might expect, but I hope you can see how important this is to me, how much I need your help."

Martin regained some of the composure he had lost upon the first suggestion of spying. His natural distrust of the profession had allowed his manner, his professionalism, to slip and he felt embarrassed. He was grateful that the Controller had not seen fit to comment on it.

"Forgive me for asking, Controller, but surely you have spies already inside Loadra's quarters? And presumably you will be receiving reports from the Reagold suite soon?"

The Controller smiled. "I have some inroads into that, yes, and I hope to be aware of most that is happening. However, Loadra no doubt suspects, perhaps even knows, who my spies in his entourage are, and where this Reagold connection is concerned he has so far successfully avoided their finding anything out. It is likely that he will be equally successful in steering any useful information past those I hope to place in Miss Harrison's rooms. You, however, will be above suspicion."

"Loadra knows me well, Controller, and hates me. How can I find out anything when your spies close to him cannot?"

"Loadra would not let you near him, let alone speak of anything confidential in your presence, this is true. However, it is not Loadra I want you to spy on." The Controller paused, reaching for a drink on his bedside cabinet and taking a sip. "The Reagold representative is one Tina Harrison. I am assigning you as her courtesy guard during her time here. It will anger Loadra, and he will see it as another deliberate insult to him from me. What he will not do is suspect you of any underhand deceit."

"He will know that I'm going to report back to you, Controller."

The Controller smiled. "Indeed, and he will be careful not to speak of anything important in your presence. What he will not suspect is that you will be gaining information any other way. You are a handsome young man, Lieutenant Lichfield, and Miss Harrison is a long way from home. Even the most professional of people have been known to be indiscrete in the throes of passion."

"That makes me no better than a whore," said Martin, his voice heavy with the disgust he felt.

"No, Lieutenant!" snapped the Controller, the full weight of authority in his voice. "That makes you
my
whore!"

Chapter 48

"Jason, how are you? It's nice to see you again. Remember me? Ursa?"

Steve jumped at the intrusion, almost spilling the half full glass of MBP held in loose fingers on the tabletop.

Jason stood up, smiling, and embraced the intruder in a warm hug. A few other patrons of the spaceport bar looked over and then turned back to their own concerns. Old friends meeting up at the spaceport was nothing new, nothing noteworthy.