The Szuiltan Alliance (The Szuiltan Trilogy) (13 page)

The cell was bare, not even a single chair or a washbasin, and as she moved she became aware that she had urinated at some time during her unconsciousness. It was uncomfortable but unimportant. She had to concentrate on what was happening, what was being said, and that was hard with the pounding inside her skull.

"Some people would like to question you."

She looked up at Richard and the two armed guards that stood behind him.

"How much did they pay you Richard? How much did it cost them for you to betray the Inner Council?" She spat the words out, forcing every ounce of her anger and disgust into them.

Richard smiled.

"Inner Council? I don't know what you're talking about. You must be delirious, all those drugs and everything. Everyone knows you're an agent for our hated enemy Earth, so there's no point in denying it. Now, come along with us. There's someone waiting to meet you again."

He stood and walked out of the door, leaving the two guards to lift Ursa to her feet.

She allowed herself to be carried.

Earth? She was confused. What was he talking about? An agent for Earth? How could he deny knowledge of the Inner Council, unless...

She tried to understand what he had said, read between the lines and get to the real meaning. He knew that she worked for the Trading Inner Council on Sellit, had worked for them himself before his treachery, so why did he now talk this nonsense about Earth? It wasn't for her benefit, so it must be for the guards. The Aksian guards thought she was an Earth agent. Aks still didn't know about the Inner Council.

They dragged her up from the dungeons and along a carpeted corridor, empty desks either side. She tried to focus. It was familiar. Of course! This was the outer suite leading to the Mayor's office. But where was everyone? The desks should have been full. Whoever was in charge didn't want others to see her being dragged through.

She was pulled relentlessly along, through one door, another, and into the Mayor's office where she was pushed into a chair. The two guards stood back slightly, their weapons pointed directly at her. They were obviously taking no chances. She found the thought strangely pleasing. They were wary of her, perhaps even a little frightened. That could be to her advantage.

The traitor she knew only as Richard had entered before her and was now leaning calmly against the window over to one side, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

The Mayor was there also, sitting at his desk. He looked angry, nervous, worried. She was quite sure this whole thing was new to him. The research department had done a thorough investigation before she had infiltrated his staff. He had no military training and had never assisted in an interrogation of any kind before.

The final occupant of the room was unknown to her, but his presence sent a chill of fear through her body. It emanated from him like a physical force, a tangible thing that touched everyone in the room. She focused on him, not taking her eyes away even as the Mayor spoke.

"Miss Mirram," his voice trembled slightly. "Why don't you tell us who you were spying for?"

"I was minding my own business in my own home when the army decided to blow up my house and beat me unconscious. I wasn't spying for anyone!" She kept her eyes on the stranger, who said nothing but smiled at her with cold viciousness.

"Don't lie you Earth bitch! I know you're working for Earth, so admit it. Tell me!" The Mayor's voice still trembled but the pitch had risen with anger and a touch of hysteria.

She turned her eyes to him for the first time.

"Mr Mayor, I work for you and I've always been loyal. I was your personal bodyguard. If I was an Earth agent I could have killed you at any time. I really don't know what you're talking about. I hate Earth every bit as much as you do."

The Mayor looked towards the stranger. It was obvious he did not know what to do next. Perhaps he had expected a simple confession, perhaps not, but he was unsure what he should do now.

"We know she's working for Earth." It was Richard who spoke from his relaxed position by the window. "Everyone in this room will swear that we heard a full confession from her, that's all we need."

The stranger stepped towards her and bent his face close. Instinctively she tried to draw back but the chair stopped her. When he spoke his voice was quiet, for her ears only, but it was deep and menacing, and seemed to echo in her head and chill her stomach with fear.

"I know who you are Ursa Mirram, and I know who you really work for. Me and the Inner Council go back a long way. You've probably even heard of me. My name is Suzex."

She recoiled in shock, the fear in her stomach tightening. Suzex! She had known of his involvement, had even been certain he was in contact with the Mayor, but she had not expected to meet him face to face. His was a name used to scare those of a nervous disposition in the training camps. He was a legend, a nightmare.

Suzex smiled.

"I see you've heard of me. That's good. I want you to know who's responsible for all this before you die."

He stood back and turned to the Mayor.

"I see no reason to delay the inevitable any longer. As my colleague over by the window says, we all heard her confession, isn't that right?"

This last was directed at the two Aksian guards who stood behind Ursa's chair and they nodded eagerly. They were also frightened of this man who seemed to demand and receive utter obedience from everyone around him.

The Mayor seemed to hesitate, his eyes flicking from Suzex to Ursa to the desk in front of him. His hands clasped together nervously. Ursa noted a trickle of sweat run down from his hairline, tracing a meandering rivulet around the corner of his eye and down his cheek.

"I don't..."

"Do it!" Suzex barked the words, making everyone in the room jump, even the apparently relaxed Richard, which Ursa found strangely satisfying.

Mayor Lane looked to the guards and summoned every bit of nerve and courage he had. This was the first and, he hoped, the last time he would have to give such an order. He swallowed hard and the words, when they came, were mumbled and stumbled over. Despite this, they were unmistakable.

"Take her out to the desert and kill her."

Chapter 24

Martin could feel Loadra's eyes burning into him. The High Priest resented his presence here on the shuttle and Martin could not, in all honesty, blame him. He should not have been involved in this assignment.

All around him sat the elite, the most trusted, the longest serving members of the Controller's bodyguard, chosen by the Controller himself to accompany him to 'Armistice'. There was only one reason for Martin to be on this flight after such a short time with the squad. To further humiliate Loadra.

The Controller was using him to emphasise his ultimate power, assigning the man Loadra wanted thrown out of the military, perhaps even executed for treason, to what was probably the most important assignment during this or any other Controller's term of office. It was a coldly calculated affront to the High Priest and his authority.

"Two minutes to landing."

The pilot's voice was relayed from the cockpit to the cabin through speakers in the roof. The Controller, seated at the rear of the cabin, looked up from the papers he was studying. It seemed to Martin that his eyes lingered for a moment on the High Priest, seated towards the centre, almost directly opposite Martin, and there was a trace of a smile, quickly suppressed. The Controller seemed to be savouring every moment of discomfort for his religious advisor.

There were over ten hours to go before the treaty was due to be signed, but it had been decided some time ago that both the Controller and the Aksian Leader should cross to the space station early and spend some time in secure accommodation, taking part in several organised media events and secondary meetings with some of the other planetary leaders attending the historic event. In politics there was always more to the signing of anything than the actual putting of pen to paper.

Martin glanced round at his colleagues, some sleeping, some talking in hushed voices, all with grim, serious faces. If they held any resentment towards his inclusion in this assignment they had not shown it. True, he was not exactly encouraged to join in their conversations or mingle socially, but then he didn't really know any of them that well yet. He was grateful for the professionalism that prevented any personal feelings becoming too obvious.

"Approaching the landing bay."

At this message from the pilot, the Controller organised his papers and returned them to the small case they had come from. He looked towards the High Priest.

"Smile Loadra," said the Controller, barely disguised amusement in his voice. "We are about to face the galaxy's media. It wouldn't do to seem too dour."

The High Priest showed no reaction other than a slight nod of acknowledgement to the Controller.

Martin took a deep breath. This was it. This was where his job really started and, whatever the original reasons for his being chosen for this assignment, he would show that he was truly worthy of inclusion.

The shuttle glided to a graceful and jerk-free stop in one of the twenty landing bays of 'Armistice'. The outer doors closed rapidly and atmosphere was returned to the vast area.

Without a word, the bodyguards rose, waking those who were still sleeping.

They were first out of the shuttle, Martin keeping his place centre line, and formed both a guard of honour and a protective shield around the exit of the shuttle as the Controller, Loadra and other hand-picked aids stepped out.

The President of Stain, a grey haired man in middle years, stepped forward to shake the Controller by the hand.

"Welcome to the space station 'Armistice', Controller. I'm sure your brief stay will be most pleasant."

The Controller took the offered hand firmly. He was aware of distant news crews recording everything that was happening and his face broke into a wide smile.

"Thank you for your warm welcome and for allowing us to use this station for such an historic occasion. This will go down in history as the place where peace was finally made between Earth and Aks."

Martin, too, watched the news crews. They were distant, but not so distant that an assassin's bullet couldn't reach the Controller. He was acutely aware of the automatic weapon concealed beneath his black jacket. It felt heavy and cold against his side. He blocked his ears to the diplomatic speeches that continued to his left and strained to hear anything else, anything unusual. He might be new to this job but he was determined to prove his merit, not as an amusing toy to tease Loadra, but as a soldier of recognised and decorated ability.

He moved with the others as the President of Stain and the Controller headed off towards the bay exit. He noted the Stain soldiers standing to attention around the bay walls before ducking through the door and into the spacious lift that would take them all to the accommodation levels and the secure room waiting for them.

Chapter 25

Steve woke to a pounding in his skull.

He pushed himself up on his elbow, holding one hand to his head in a vain attempt to stop the pain. He was lying on his bunk in his cabin. Jack sat opposite him.

"What the hell happened?"

Jack thrust a cup of coffee into his hand.

"Have a drink. You've been out for quite a while."

"What hit us?" said Steve, taking the advice and sipping at the coffee. It tasted good and took away the dryness and bad taste that filled his mouth.

"Some kind of tractor beam I think. We've been in tow for a few hours now."

"In tow? Who's doing the towing, or don't I want to know?"

Jack smiled. "Oh, it's nothing to worry about, apparently. They've checked us out and we're cleared, so everything's OK."

Steve took another drink and swung his legs over the side of the bunk, sitting up. His head still ached but it was easing as the cobwebs blew clear of his mind.

"Who checked us out?"

"The Szuiltans. There's a small convoy of them around us and we're being pulled along by this tractor beam thing."

Steve shook his head, trying to clear it further.

"I feel like shit. What did I hit? Never mind. How did these Szuiltan ships get so close without us detecting them? I mean, the Deadly Sins might not be state of the art, but it has sensors. Anything above the size of a dust particle should have registered and given us some kind of warning."

"I guess they know some tricks that we don't," said Jack,
tricks that the Inner Council should hear about
. "Anyway, however it happened we're almost there. We've met our first Szuiltans and they're escorting us to our destination."

"Let's get to the control room," said Steve, pushing himself to his feet. He seemed unsteady for a moment but then caught his balance. "I'd like to see what these Szuiltan ships look like. I presume our viewers are still working?"

"Well..." Jack followed Steve out of the cabin and down the corridor towards the control room. "Actually, I didn't check. I mean, I haven't had a look..."

Steve stopped in mid stride, Jack almost crashing into the back of him. He turned, genuine surprise mingled with a curious amusement on his face.

"We get hit by some kind of tractor beam belonging to a race hardly anyone else has ever seen and you're not even curious enough to have a look on the viewers?"

"You were unconscious," said Jack, shrugging apologetically. "I thought I'd better get you sorted out."

"I'm touched. Even so, you said I'd been out for a while. Weren't you even a little curious?"

Jack didn't answer and, after a moment, Steve laughed and placed a consoling hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Larn knows what sitting behind that desk on Sellit all this time has done to you Jack, but we've got some way to go to get you back into the real world of trading."

He turned and strode on, a little unsteadily, to the control room.

Jack watched him go, a smile on his face. He had, in truth, spent some time at the viewers once Steve was settled in his bunk. He had studied the ships that escorted them. He had made recordings on his own Inner Council-issue mini recorder. There was much that the Council needed to see and discuss but, in the meantime, he saw no harm in allowing his friend a little feeling of superiority by feigning this slightly bumbling incompetence. It could only enhance his cover story.