‘Coward!’ she called out. ‘What’s wrong with you?’ Kata caught her arm and drew her back down beside him on the cushions.
‘He’s throwing up,’ Kata said. ‘Either he’ll get over it, or he’ll begin berating himself for having a hand in this. If does that, he’ll have to be silenced. Do you understand that? He’s one of your nest mates. Can you accept it?’
‘Of course I can. We can’t have him running to the Protectors.’
‘Just so. I’m proud of you.’
In modesty Zir looked down. Kata left the room and went to look for Elen, found him standing at the back door, breathing fresh air.
‘You’ll feel better in a bit,’ Kata said cheerfully. ‘It’s time for us to make our report to Riva. Let’s get our jackets and go. The walk will do you good, youngling.’
‘Thank you. My apologies for that act of weakness.’ Elen raised his throat. ‘I’ll make amends, I’ll swear it.’
‘Good. Let’s get out in the fresh air. We can still travel openly, I think, for now. Dealing with the effects of the bombing is going to strain the Protectors’ Guild to their limits.’
Elen’s hands dug, but he managed to squelch the motion.
During their long walk to the transport gate, Kata kept to side streets and darkened alleys as much as possible. Whenever he had sufficient light to judge Elen’s reactions, he would talk, a distracting chatter. At first Elen tried to keep up the same, but slowly he turned inward to brood until at times he missed a question. When they reached South Canal, they scurried across the brightly-lit avenue and dropped down to the access pathway that ran directly beside the water. There in the dark they paused to catch their breaths.
‘Come now, youngling,’ Kata said. ‘Today you’ve struck a glorious blow for the Lep cause. Riva’s going to be proud of you.’
‘I know. I just can’t stop thinking about those people. They’re my fellow citizens, after all.’
Kata flexed claws and swung before Elen even saw him move. The blow landed cleanly on the softer scales just below the ear. Kata felt his claws bite deep into the otio-jugular arteries and the nexi of nerves leading to the secondary spinal column. Impaled, Elen gurgled and arched his back, his mouth gaping in rictus as the thick purple blood oozed.
‘I’m sorry,’ Kata said. ‘I liked you.’
With his other hand he thrust against the youngling’s shoulder. In one smooth motion he freed his claws and shoved the half-paralysed youngling into the canal. Elen splashed and sank into the dirty water to drown. Kata knelt, washed out his claws, then retracted them and walked on.
The door to the shabby bar that housed a transport gate stood open. Kata stepped in to find the place full of Leps, mostly male, all staring at the vidscreen behind the bar as the news footage unrolled. As he worked his way along the back wall, he could hear the muttered comments. Much to his disgust, many of them expressed nothing but sympathy for the victims. More promising, though, was the fear he heard in every voice. What was Karlo going to do about this? What kind of laws was that maniac of a First Citizen going to be able to get passed now? He slipped into the corridor, then into the storeroom. When he activated his transceiver crystal, the portal glowed.
Kata stepped into the small grey room and sat down to wait, but Riva appeared almost immediately. Her revenant that night seemed to wear a long knotted gown of flaming orange silk and over her shoulders a webbing of fine silver chains - a celebration dress, indeed.
‘Grandson,’ she said. ‘You have done well.’
‘I thank you, grandmother.’ He bowed his head before her. ‘I am honoured to have served you.’
‘Well spoken.’ The revenant gave her oddly human smile. ‘Now we need to decide your reward.’
‘I’ve been paid already, and the fullness of my heart is reward enough.’
‘Very well spoken. But I have been considering the customs of our people. For this act you should have the dal indit dala, the prize of heroes.’
‘No, no, I’m not worthy.’
‘You are. What shall you have for the dal?’
Kata started to continue his modest noises, then paused, feeling his crest lift at his sudden idea.
‘Grandmother,’ he said. ‘There’s something that my heart yearns for, and it’s in your power to give.’
‘Good, my grandson. Speak to me of it.’
‘I want Vida’s life. Help me reach her. I’ve seen you deaden security systems. I’ve seen you give me access to high security areas. When she signs a contract with the Peronida youngling, I’ll have a chance at her. With your help.’
The revenant froze and paled. Apparently the real Riva, wherever she was, had found his request troubling.
‘Riva, grandmother,’ he went on. ‘You hired me to kill the girl, and I failed. I need her blood to wash my honour clean. Come now, you want her dead yourself
The revenant flickered back to full life.
‘I do not want to lose you, Kata. You are valuable to me and to the Lep cause. I do not have the hands to hold weapons. You do.’
‘Well, you won’t necessarily lose me, if we work together on this. You got me past the autogate security at the Spaceport. Surely you can get me into Government House.’
‘It’s possible.’ Riva thought for a long moment. ‘I cannot reach the system in the two towers. Dukayn has bested me there. But the wider area known as Government House - I can say with a high degree of probability that I can enter that system and affect its scan subroutines.’
Kata had to think about this bit of convoluted language for a moment before he could answer.
‘The towers would be too dangerous, anyway. It’s too easy to trap someone in a maze of walls like that. But this ceremony. They’ll be signing the contract in the Cathedral, and then they’ll be posing for holos and other such garbage all afternoon. The place will be swarming with guests and gridjockeys. Get me into Government House. Grandmother. That’s all I ask. I can kill her and get back out again, I’m sure of it.’
‘I find that I am not as certain of that possibility as you are.’
‘Riva, trust me! Besides, even if I die killing her,’ he lifted his crest at his own joke, ‘every cause needs a martyr.’
‘Very well. I have offered the dal indit dala, and you have taken it. The laws of our people do not allow me to post further objections. So be it. Let us discuss what you wish to do.’
* * *
As soon as she’d assimilated the news, Sister Romero joined forces with a pair of local priests and hurried to the emergency hospital in Government House. The dying needed the last rites: an eye marked upon their foreheads in the blessed oil that they might see the rising of the light, a prayer to guide their going.
While she thoroughly abominated UJU and all it stood for, its members were suffering souls, the same as those sapients they affected to despise. In sombre black the group hurried down to the hospital, then stood uncertainly in a long lobby swarming with medical personnel and volunteers until at last a harried military nurse noticed them.
‘Bless you for coming,’ he said. ‘Cardinal Roha’s here too. I’ll take you to the wards. We’ve got a lot of near-terminals.’
Near-terminals. It was even uglier than ‘dying’, Romero thought. Unfortunately the nurse was right enough. Despite the splendid med tech so common on Palace, too many people had lain too long untended while they bled internally, to be saved. The three priests split up, each with a factor to help them and carry the vials of oil and the cloths.
‘This is the worst part of our job,’ Thiralo murmured. ‘God give me strength.’
They needed it before the night was over. Romero had tended the dying before; she was used to grief and terror. She had not expected rage. Or outrage, really - people who had counted on life-extension to live another hundred years were furious to be dying. To their whispered snarls and curses she found little to say except, ‘Go with God. Cling to the rising of the light.’ She murmured it over and over as if she were repeating a magic spell. Some were soothed; most died angry. One young woman, who had been beautiful until half her face was torn away, would stay in her memory for the rest of her life.
‘It’s not fair.’ She could barely speak. ‘It’s just not fair.’
‘Life itself is never fair, my child.’
‘Why not? It should be.’
A bubble of blood broke on what was left of her lips, and her eyes rolled as she fell still for ever. Romero chanted the prayers over her and moved on to the next victim. Toward the middle of the night the situation, like the victims, stabilized. The city had finally mustered enough resources to give each victim the sort of med tech they all had taken for granted. Some of the dead, the most recently gone and the least injured, were resurrected with impaired brain functioning that, eventually, Palace’s medicine would repair. The young woman with half a face stayed beyond help.
Romero and Thiralo found a moment’s rest in an alcove at the end of a hallway, where a scatter of chairs formed a semi-circle opposite a small vidscreen. Thiralo produced a handkerchief from the pocket of his cassock and wiped his face. Romero merely sat, her oily hands limp in her lap, and wondered why anyone would expect life to be fair. On the wall the vidscreen displayed endless video of the bomb site, the victims, the hospital, the bomb site again. Romero was about to yell at the thing to turn itself off when the loop stopped, the screen turned briefly grey, and a presenter’s ashen-brown face irised into the centre window.
‘The Master of the Protectors’ Guild has just made an important announcement.’ Exhausted as she was, she could no longer control her shaking voice. ‘A group has come forward and claimed responsibility for today’s bombing of the Floating Amphitheatre. In a closed comm transmission that so far has proved untraceable, a group called Riva announced that they planted the explosive device to protest the leadership of Karlo Peronida. They will continue to commit random acts of violence, the communique stated, until the laws forbidding Lep ownership of property in Tech Sect are revoked. The Protectors’ Guild has issued a statement that no compromise with terrorists is possible. In a press conference the First Citizen has stated that he will put the matter into tomorrow’s interactives to gather citizen input.’
Thiralo shook his head and sighed.
‘Well, well, well,’ Romero said. ‘UJU has called forth its opposite. Sooner or later that always happens, doesn’t it? Odd how that sort never seems to realize it.’
‘That’s because they don’t realize they’re that sort.’
‘Unfortunately, you’re quite right.’ With a sigh Romero heaved herself to her complaining feet. ‘We’d best do one last check of the wards, and then I think God will forgive us if we go home.’
* * *
Toward dawn an exhausted Peronida family and their bodyguards, along with Vida and hers, gathered in Karlo and Vanna’s suite, except for Wan, who was breakfasting with the personnel of his chopper unit. Sleepy saccules, smelling of flowers, brought drinks and plates of hastily-assembled cold food. Vida sank into an armchair and Jak sat at her feet, while Karlo, Vanna, and Pero took the sofa. No-one spoke at first, merely ate. Vida was annoyed with herself for being insensitive enough to feel hungry after the suffering she’d seen, but she couldn’t deny that she was.
‘I saw footage of you at the hospital,’ Pero said, glancing at Vida. ‘Good job.’
‘Thank you. I can’t believe how glad they were to see me.’
‘You handled it just right. You looked appalled, but you never went to pieces. Couldn’t have been easy.’
‘Thanks. It wasn’t.’
For a few moments more they all ate in silence.
‘Well, one thing at least,’ Karlo said at last. ‘This shows what the Leps on planet are capable of.’ He was looking pointedly at Vanna. ‘I hope you can see that now. Your precious fellow citizens - they’re no different than the rest of their kind.’
‘Bullshit!’ Vanna said. ‘It shows what any sapient’s capable of, if they feel pushed to the wall.’
‘Oh come on, lawmother!’ Pero said. ‘Nothing the government’s done can justify this.’
‘No, of course not, that’s not what I meant. I mean you can’t make people feel hopeless and not expect them to lash out.’ She glanced Vida’s way with narrow eyes. ‘What about you, L’Var? What do you think?’
Vida gathered her courage.
‘I agree with you,’ she said. ‘Besides, we’re forgetting something, aren’t we? It’s not all the Lep citizens who did this. It’s that group of extremists, Riva. The news said that the Protectors have been monitOring them, but they sure did a lousy job of it.’
Vanna laughed with a toss of her head.
‘Damn right, L’Var.’ Vanna turned to Karlo. ‘A real lousy job, First Citizen. I suggest you get the Master of the Protectors’ Guild over here tomorrow and rake him over the coals.’
‘It’s already on my agenda.’ Karlo abruptly rose. ‘We’re all too tired to think clearly. Let’s get some rest. The city’s going to need us all tomorrow.’
With Jak escorting her, Vida returned to her suite. When the door slid back, she realized that a lamp shone, music played, and someone was sitting in the gather. Jak caught her arm.
‘I go first.’
She stepped back into the corridor and hovered, her heart pounding in fear, until she heard Jak call out.
‘Se Rico! What are you doing here? I nearly killed you.’
Vida rushed into the gather to find Rico sprawled on her couch and Jak standing over him. Rico was laughing, a cold mutter under his breath, as he stood up, rubbing his arm - where Jak had grabbed him, Vida assumed. She wanted to ran to him and throw herself into his arms, but her bodyguard stood in the way, scowling.
‘I put the music on to warn you that someone was here,’ Rico said. ‘I just wanted to see Vida, and I’m too tired to wait in the hall all night.’
‘How did you get in?’ Vida snapped.
‘Locks like these don’t mean much to Cyberguild people.’ Rico stood up, grinning in a lopsided way. ‘I entered my prints into your system.’
Jak growled and raised his eyes heavenward.
‘It’s all right, Jak,’ Vida said. ‘You must be tired, too. Why don’t you go fix yourself something to eat? There’s cold roast in the pantry, I think.’
‘My thanks, Se Vida.’ Jak turned a glowering eye on Rico. ‘Next time,
Se,
perhaps you could leave a note on the door?’