‘Sabotage of some kind.’ He swallowed hard. ‘This has got to be deliberate sabotage. The force-field generator apparently failed, and the field went down. I spoke to a Protector who told me there was an explosion, an underground explosion.’
Sirens drowned his voice and the thunder of airhoppers followed. The feed died. The presenter leaned forward, listening to her earpiece while she spoke.
‘Citizens, we’ve established a link with a pix who was covering the rally. The main window will show feed from her - oh my God oh my God.’
The main window irised into three-dee. Over half the screen, blood oozed in a red, clotted river. Images of corpses, twisted, broken, bleeding, filled the other half.
‘Screen off!’ Hi barked.
Released by the sudden grey, Rico turned and shook his head as if he could physically dislodge the images.
‘Jevon.’ Hi’s face went white. ‘She was going down that way. She had a lot of things to pick up, shopping I mean, and she told me she’d be down by Algol Park.’
‘By the park doesn’t mean she was in it.’
In two strides Hi crossed the room and grabbed the comm unit from Rico’s desk. He barked the number of Jevon’s carryround unit, then waited, staring at the far wall. Rico realized that he was holding his breath, let it out with a sigh.
‘If she was going to answer,’ Hi said, ‘she’d have done it by now.’
‘Well, I dunno. Maybe she’s got her hands full, or she’s eating lunch or something.’
Hi went on listening to the unit ring. Nju walked into the room and stood watching him. At last Hi swore and flicked the unit off.
‘Jevon hasn’t returned,’ Nju said. ‘Was it her you were calling?’
‘Yeah, sure was. I’m going down there.’
‘No, Se Jons.’ Nju spoke slowly, firmly. ‘In the chaos of a disaster like this, you will be at risk. Do you not have enemies? Have they not already hired a killer once? I alone cannot protect you in a great confusion.’
‘Well, damn it all!’
‘Se Rico and I will go,’ Nju said. ‘I shall call Se Vida and arrange for you to wait with her and my brother.’
Hi glared; Nju glared steadily back; Hi looked away first.
‘Oh okay,’ he snapped. ‘But Rico, you call me the minute you know something.’
* * *
Since Karlo had spent most of his life on naval ships, he realized at once that the trembling of East Tower came from no earthquake. Explosions had a feel all their own. He’d already grabbed his comm unit and was calling Dukayn when the airhopper fleet lifted off and headed for the disaster. Dukayn answered immediately.
‘Turn on your newsvid, Se,’ Dukayn said. ‘There’s been some kind of bombing at that UJU
rally in Algol Park.’
Karlo kept Dukayn online while he did so, and linked by the comm they watched the newsfeed together. When the dying pix’s feed came through, sheeting the screen in the image of blood, Karlo could wait no longer.
‘We need fleet Doctors,’ he snapped. ‘Those people have been thrown together like Marines in the belly of a hit ship. Our people will know how to handle it. Get every Fleet surgeon on planet over there. Bring down whomever you can from orbit. I’ll get hold of the duty sergeant for the Garang, and we’ll head down to the amphitheatre. The men in that regiment can handle any looters and provide the police with whatever support they need.’
‘Yes, Se. We’ll need a command centre here. Nikolaides would be a good man to put in charge.’
‘He would, yeah. I’ll call him now.’
* * *
By the time Nju and Rico reached the disaster site, other volunteers had already moved the victims who’d fallen among the booths. The dammed-up river had spread out behind the amphitheatre and turned Algol Park into a shallow lake, draining down the main avenue on the downhill side. A steel island, the broken support column rose from the water among the floating kelp of red and white canvas. Sirens wailed until Rico’s ears rang in sympathy. Choppers and airhoppers swarmed round the purple globe and dangled rescue slings. Rico could see the tiny forms of medics climbing down to the disaster.
‘It’s the only way into that thing,’ Rico called to Nju. ‘Now.’
‘I’m looking for a command post.’ Nju was shading his eyes with one furred hand and staring across the lake. ‘I see none.’
‘Maybe around the other side?’
They’d only walked a couple of yards before the air split into fragments, or so it seemed, with the sound of military transports. Like giant moths the airtrucks settled onto the broad avenue uphill from the park. Doors clanged open, and Garang trotted out in orderly ranks.
‘Good,’ Nju grunted. ‘Se Karlo’s taken a hand in this.’ By the time they reached the emergency medical station, all the way around to the other side of the fallen amphitheatre, the Garang troops were beginning to organize the situation and unload equipment: inflatable boats, seeming-miles of rope ladders and grapples, crates of medical supplies, and ominous heaps of pale green body bags. Sergeants with comm headsets walked back and forth, yelling orders and transmitting information. Squads were setting up long tents and cots for the injured, who at the moment lay on the grass. Apparently there had been a doctor in the park at the time of the disaster. With the sleeves of her flowered dress spattered with blood, she was kneeling beside a man on the ground while a Marine ripped open a crate of supplies beside her.
‘There will be Fleet surgeons on the way,’ Nju remarked. ‘The First Citizen will think of it.’
Rico tried to speak and found his mouth had gone too dry. As they walked down the line of patients, some moaning, some quiet with near-catatonic exhaustion, some ominously still and pale, he felt his entire mind and body screaming at him to run, to get out of there, to get away from the sight of blood and broken bones and death. He had to find Jevon. That thought kept him walking, kept him looking.
‘Here she is!’ he called out, then ran down the line. Jevon lay like a tidy package on someone’s coat, spread for her at some point by a volunteer, her legs crossed at the ankles, her arms neady by her sides. She lay so still that for a terrible moment Rico thought she was dead, but when he dropped to his knees beside her, she opened her eyes. Dry blood smeared her chin from a bitten lip.
‘Se Rico,’ she whispered.
‘You bet. We came to look for you.’
Tears welled and ran down her face. When she made no move to wipe them away, Rico searched his pockets, found a wad of tissue, and wiped them for her. Nju knelt down at her other side.
‘What happened?’ he said.
‘It was the impact. I got thrown down when it hit. I’m all right. I want to go home.’
Nju laid his hand on her forehead to keep her still.
‘Do not move,’ he snapped. ‘You may be bleeding internally. You may also have broken ribs, and moving suddenly might puncture a lung. Lie still.’
‘The others are hurt worse,’ Jevon whispered.
‘Some, yes. Others not so bad as you. Do not talk.’
‘We’ll stay here with you, Jev,’ Rico said. ‘Don’t you worry. Nju, you’d better call my uncle. He’ll be frantic if we don’t let him know she’s okay.’
Jevon shut her eyes and began to tremble.
‘What is it?’ Rico said. ‘Does something hurt?’
‘Everything hurts.’
‘Don’t talk!’ Nju snarled. ‘Se Rico, shut up! I’ll call Se Hivel now, but do not make her talk again.’
‘Okay, sure.’
With so many comm frequencies pre-empted to handle the emergency, it took Nju a long while to contact Government House. The sky above the amphitheatre swarmed with emergency choppers, lowering help down, hauling victims up, lowering them again to the waiting squads. Rico watched while he sat on the grass and held Jevon’s small, cold hand between both of his.
All around them Garang trotted back and forth, setting up the field hospital, bringing in the victims to fill it. Doctors, some Fleet surgeons, some civilian volunteers, poured into the site. At first most of the patients that Rico saw passing by on stretchers were alive, some seemingly at least no more injured than Jevon. A few, though, had been thrown against the edge of the stage or the metal-framed seats. One woman screamed repeatedly; she held both hands over her eyes, and blood welled through her fingers. As the parade went on, the injuries grew worse; Garang, joined by human volunteers, carried past broken and bleeding human beings.
When Rico looked around, he saw at some distance away other Garang hauling heavy body bags to a waiting airtruck. For a moment he was afraid that he’d vomit and disgrace himself, but he forced his mind steady, and his stomach followed.
‘Hah!’ Nju barked. ‘I’ve gotten through. Se Hivel? We’ve found her!’
* * *
‘They’ve found her!’ Hi said. ‘She’s alive.’ He clamped the comm unit back to his ear and frowned, listening hard.
Vida nodded, relieved more for him than for Jevon, whom she barely knew. Beside her on the sofa, Samante sat trembling, mesmerized by the images on the screen. On the floor beside the couch, Jak sat at Vida’s feet, as if he could protect her from the horror of the video footage. When the amphitheatre fell, or so the presenters were saying, the impact had thrown human beings around like sticks of wood. People bleeding, people dying, people dead - the pictures went on and on. Hundreds had suffocated at the bottom of the immense heap ol victims while tliey were screaming and struggling to get free. At a close-up of their contorted faces, Samante whimpered.
‘Your aunt!’ Vida said. ‘Wilso was speaking at that thing. Was she there, Sammi?’
‘No, thank God and his Holy Eye.’ The factor’s voice shook, soft and hard to hear. ‘She doesn’t approve of UJU. But she must be hysterical, worrying about him.’
‘Well, then, go to her, if you want.’ Vida laid a hand on Samante’s arm. ‘You could have asked me.’
‘I’m not thinking, that’s all.’ Samante got up and wrenched her gaze away from the screen.
‘Thanks, Vida. Thank you so much. I’ll try to call her first.’
‘You won’t be able to get through. Just get a cab and go.’
‘All right.’
Samante ran to her office, came back out with a jacket and a carryround comm unit, and headed for the door.
‘I’ll check in when I can. We’ve still got the ceremony plans to finish.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Vida snapped. ‘I can’t get married in a couple of days. Not in the middle of this. Don’t worry about it.’
Done with his commcall, Hi opened the door for Samante, then shut it again. He sat down in an armchair and turned to the screen.
‘You know what’s the worst damn thing?’ Hi said. ‘I can’t stop watching this stuff. I don’t know why. Every picture’s horrible, but-’
‘I know,’ Vida said. ‘But we’ve somehow got to know. I wish there was something I could do.’
‘There is. They’re bringing the injured to the military hospital here in Government House. Jak, I’m thinking that it would be safe for Se Vida to go over.’
‘Yes indeed, Se Hivel, if she wished to. They’re bringing them here because this is a secure area, after all. There may be witnesses left alive, and they need to stay alive.’
‘But what would I do there? I’m not a med tech or anything.’
‘You could comfort people,’ Hi said. ‘Raise morale. Don’t you realize how famous you’ve become? Palace’s sweetheart, that’s you, Vida. People would love to see you.’
‘This isn’t any time to joke.’
‘I’m not joking. You’re somebody now, Vida. Somebodies matter on Palace.’
Jak rose with a bow Hi’s way.
‘I shall call the hospital,’ Jak said. ‘Or rather, I shall start trying to reach them. It will take some time. But we can’t leave until my brother returns to fetch Se Hivel anyway.’
‘Hey, I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.’
‘Se Hivel, if my brother returns and finds that I have disobeyed him -’ Jak let the phrase hang.
‘Well, yeah,’ Hi said. ‘It’ll be better for Vida to go later, anyway, when things are more organized.’
While Jak waited, holding the comm unit to one ear, Vida kept watching the news. Many of the images repeated, since the newsgrid only had limited footage, but every now and then they added something new, either holo feed in the main window or supplementary material down the sides. Jak had just managed to call through to the emergency hospital when a presenter appeared on the screen for an announcement.
‘We have an interview with Wan Peronida,’ she said. ‘Jo Caro has him on feed. Come in, Jo.’
‘What the hell?’ Hi muttered.
Vida felt utterly puzzled herself. What was Wan doing down there? The interview irised onto the main window. In duty fatigues and a black combat jacket an impatient Wan stood glaring into the camera. The intake’s voice came from offscreen.
‘As you all know, Peronida’s a chopper pilot with the Coast Force of our Naval Reserve. He’s been flying rescue missions, and he’s been kind enough to give us some of his time.’
‘Three minutes, Caro,’ Wan snapped. ‘There are people dying in there, and I need to get back on duty.’
Vida stared. The image looked like Wan, sounded like Wan, but how could it be Wan? He seemed so alive, so much in authority. In quick phrases he explained how the choppers lined up in formation, one after the other to glide in, drop their rescue team, pick up a sling full of victims, and then glide out again to make room for the next round.
‘That’s dangerous, isn’t it?’ the intake said. ‘With so many machines in such a narrow corridor.’
‘Oh yeah.’ Wan glanced toward the camera and suddenly smiled, an expression of innocent delight. ‘You get used to it.’ The smile disappeared. ‘Now let’s cut this short.’
‘Of course.’ The intake’s image replaced his on the screen. ‘We’ve been talking to Wan Peronida. Jo Caro, signing off from the site.’
Vida turned to Hi.
‘Get used to danger?’ she said. ‘He loves it.’
* * *
Watching the video on the news, Sar Elen broke. As long as the dead existed only as figures in a side window or names in a presenter’s list, he sat still and proud, but once the pictures started, he writhed. First his hands began to curl and reach in the digging motion that signalled a troubled Lep; then he turned this way and that on his chair. Kata paid as much attention to him as he did to the video. Sure enough, at the sight of the suffocation victims, Elen got up and rushed from the room. Zir half-rose and hissed at his fleeing back.