The Szuiltan Alliance (The Szuiltan Trilogy) (40 page)

They never show surprise as to where I am or what I'm doing when they come in
, she thought, struggling to think clearly, logically.
Therefore it’s safe to assume that I’m under constant observation.

"And how are you today Carina? Still having trouble sleeping I see." Suzex's voice was quiet but boomed off the walls. The ticking of the clocks seemed suddenly almost inaudible.

"When are you going to decide what to do with me?" Her voice was rough, cracking, a hint of near pleading just below the surface.

"Why should we do anything with you, Carina? What is there we should do?" Suzex's voice lilted with amusement and the confidence of familiarity. This was an old discussion.

"I killed the Leader!" she screeched suddenly, trying to stand up but finding her legs unable to support her, falling instead against a nearby chair. "Everyone present, everyone watching on camera, saw me kill the Leader of Aks, and you try and tell me nothing's going to happen to me?"

"But nothing
is
going to happen to you," smiled Suzex, crossing to her and helping her into the chair. "At least, nothing in relation to Lane's timely demise. He had been revealed as the man behind Leader Carlton's assassination. He got what he deserved. No one blames you for your reaction."

Carina rubbed her legs, trying to ease the pain that throbbed through her. Some of what Suzex said made sense, but it seemed incredible. Surely the State, if not the people, would demand some kind of retribution?

"What of the new Leader? The President of Szuilta?" She could not say why, but she felt uncomfortable in Suzex's presence. He had been nothing but kind since Lane's death. He had helped usher her safely out of the Reception Hall, brought doctors to her to make sure she stayed the right side of insanity. He had never done or said anything to make her feel other than grateful and comfortable, yet she squirmed inside every time he came near, mistrusted every word he said.

Why?

"The Leader has given a full pardon to you for your crime and it has been announced globally. You see, there is nothing hanging over you. No threat."

"Then what is my position? Why am I held here?" The ache in her legs was beginning to ease now, helping her thoughts, making it easier to think in a calm and logical manner.

"Held here?" Suzex feigned surprise. "You are free to go any time you wish, Carina. The guards are simply for your own protection. You are here because it is comfortable and we can look after you. No other reason, I assure you."

"Supposing I accept that," she said, thinking
good, this is good. My mind is starting to function again. I am not, and never was, stupid and
nothing
is for free.
"There's still the question of my position."

"Well, you cannot, obviously, continue as the Leader's official mistress."

The mere thought made her shudder.

"However, the President is keen that you should retain a position of some respect and visibility, while not actually wielding any real influence of course."

"Of course. And what might this position be?" She was cautious. Perhaps if it had been anyone but Suzex saying these words...

"That has yet to be decided. But until then you are more than welcome to stay here as the President's guest."

Carina hesitated before answering. She had to be honest with herself and admit that she had nowhere else to stay. She was aware that, during her stay in the asylum, the
real
asylum, all her property holdings and savings had been seized. She had nowhere to go and no one to go to.

"I'll stay, for now. At least until I find out what this offer might be."

Suzex nodded and smiled.

"She is suspicious. She doesn’t trust Suzex," said the President of Szuilta.

He and his personal advisor drifted around each other in a strange, flowing dance that, to another Szuiltan, was indicative of deep discussion. Their language was sibilant and gurgling, ebbing and flowing like waves breaking on a shore. No human had ever witnessed such a discussion, but if they had they might have likened it to watching two jellyfish caught in a gently rolling tide. Their fluidity of form was reflected in their movement and language.

"It doesn't matter if she's suspicious as long as she stays here," said the advisor, adding, "Suzex has done his job admirably there."

The President floated silently for several seconds, considering his advisor's last statement. When he finally spoke, the other Szuiltan noted a determination in his tone, a passion held in tight control, and he remembered that this whole idea had originated with the President. This was
his
initiative.

"Is the experiment ready yet?"

"There has been some delay while our scientists take the opportunity to study the human female physiology closer than they were able to on Szuilta itself, but I am now informed that everything is in readiness. We wait only for the correct moment."

"Good." Everything about the President's form and vocal tone indicated that he was pleased, perhaps a little relieved as well.

"The present situation is unstable, to say the least," continued the President. "The success of this experiment is vital to the continuing evolution of our race. We can no longer be content with our isolation from humankind, loathsome as they may be. We must merge, but we must be dominant!"

The swirling dance stopped. The discussion was at an end.

Chapter 58

Raindrops, natural disorganised raindrops, spattered the window of the small summerhouse set deep in the forest. Martin Lichfield watched the rain gather force and contemplated feeling sorry for the Reagold 'soldiers', for that was what they were whatever they might call themselves, outside. He decided not to.

He shifted onto his side, stared for a moment at the pleasantly attractive face of Tina Harrison lying on the mattress alongside him. Her eyes were closed, her expression one of peaceful contentment.

Yes, she
is
attractive. I know myself better than to think I might be falling in love, but this has become something more than the assignment it was meant to be
.

It was a complication, but a complication he felt strangely happy about.

"You know they call this 'The Controller's folly'?" he said quietly, his voice a whisper, joining the gathering whispers of the rain on leaves outside.

"My understanding is that there are several like this in the forest. What do they call
them
?" She did not open her eyes as she spoke, but the slight smile broadened.

Martin shrugged. "I guess they call all of them 'The Controller's folly'."

She opened her eyes and watched as he rolled onto his back, clasping his hands behind his head and staring at the cobwebbed ceiling.

Real cobwebs, real spiders
, she thought.
I like it here. It's natural. Away from technology, away from Reagold. It makes it easier to think, and there is so much to think about.

"I didn't see Roland scowling at us today. Is he ill? I do hope it's nothing trivial," said Martin, closing his eyes and allowing himself to doze, lulled by the illusion of privacy and the continuing rattle of the rain on the roof, among the trees outside, on the leaf strewn ground.

Roland. Yes. That, at least, is one less problem to worry about
.

Her orders had been precise and they had been obeyed without question. The remains would be returned to Reagold in the next diplomatic bag.

"I think Roland was beginning to feel homesick. I'm sending him home."

"Good. I don't think he liked me very much."

But I do
, she thought.
Oh, I do. I think I like you too much
.

"It was simpler before I came to Earth," she said, sitting up, unconcerned at how the thin sheet they had thrown across themselves almost two hours before now fell to her waist, revealing her nakedness to any of her entourage who might pass the window and care to look in.

"Simpler?" Martin opened his eyes, saw Tina sitting up, saw the frown on her face, the pained expression of concentration and worry, of indecision. He knew that expression, had felt it on his own face when trying to decide whether to pull the trigger or not all that time ago on Milos IV.

She's confused, troubled, facing a dilemma of some sort, a decision.

This, he knew, could be the breakthrough the Controller was hoping for, the whole reason he was here. Yet he felt strangely uninterested in whatever it was Tina was struggling with and more concerned with the fact that she struggled at all. He was concerned for her. He realised that he hated to see her looking so fraught.

"Look," he said, his voice soft, caressing. "If you think it will help to tell me about it, fine. But don't feel you have to. I'm quite happy never to know."

She turned her eyes to him and he saw they were filling with tears. Her lips trembled as she spoke.

"Won't your Controller be angry? After all that is why you're here isn't it? To get information?"

Martin hesitated for a brief moment before answering. He should have known she would guess. She was anything but stupid.

"That was my original role, yes. And I still report to the Controller each day. But it's gone so much further than that now." He sat up, slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "I'm not going to tell you that I love you, because I can't do that. But I do care about you a great deal, much more than I should, given the circumstances. Like I said. If you want to tell me, fine. If you don't, that's fine too. I just want you to stop worrying."

Stop worrying! He doesn't know what he's asking. The one true alien race in the galaxy is nothing more than an experiment in artificial intelligence by my company, an experiment that has got out of hand, and I should stop worrying? There's an invasion fleet on its way here, to Earth, and I'm meant to help them when they land, and I should stop worrying? My whole life has been dedicated to Reagold, to The Director, and now I feel an almost irresistible compulsion to betray them to this man alongside me, this soldier who will probably die alongside his colleagues in the defence of this planet, defence against the fleet
I
know is about to arrive.

She let the tears take control, allowed the sobbing to shudder through her body, as she buried her face in Martin's shoulder.

"I love you," she spluttered between the sobs. "And I feel so stupid crying like this. I haven't cried this much since I was a little girl."

Martin stroked a hand over her head, through her hair.

"Everyone's entitled to cry sometimes," he said softly, thinking back to the tears that had come so freely after his daughter's death. "Some things are worth it."

Tina looked up, wiped a hand across her eyes, smearing tears across her cheeks. She glanced towards the window, saw one of her entourage, a young man named Jeff who had taken over Roland's position, standing a short distance away, rain sodden and staring at the summerhouse. He was too far to hear anything. She turned back towards Martin.

Do it now, before I start thinking again.

"Martin. There's a combined Aksian and Szuiltan fleet on its way here right now. They're going to invade Earth, and I've been ordered to help!"

There, it wasn't so hard. You just open your mouth and the words come tumbling out.

Martin half smiled,
surely a joke,
before seeing the expression on her face.
She's serious!

"But that would be in direct violation..."

"They don't care! You must tell The Controller, convince him. Perhaps if you mobilise soon enough..."

She turned, suddenly, to face the window once again. The drenched member of her entourage, Jeff, was no longer there and the panic hit her hard, full in the stomach.

Shit! How could I be so stupid as to think I would be allowed privacy?

She didn't know where it was, but she was sure it would be there somewhere. A transmitter,
one of Reagold's finest no doubt
. Almost undetectable.

"Martin..."

But he had seen the direction of her stare, recognised the panic in her face, and was already up and moving towards the door as it crashed open, framing the still dripping figure of Jeff in the grey light from outside, his gun drawn and raised.

Martin crashed into him as he pulled the trigger, felt the bullet whine past his ear, heard Tina scream somewhere behind him.

Tina!

They tumbled into the rain, rolling over and over among the leaves, twigs and rotting fruit of the forest floor. Martin, naked but oblivious to the cold and damp in his rage, grabbed Jeff's gun arm, twisted viciously, smiled a deathly rictus of a smile as he felt the crack, heard the scream of agony from beneath him. He smashed his elbow into the throat of the writhing man, once, twice, and left him gasping for air, muscles jerking in spasms.

Martin grabbed the gun from the dying man's stiffening fingers, knowing that the others would be there at any time, and there had been at least five of them when they set out that morning.

He pushed himself up on to one knee, allowing his reactions, his trained senses, to takeover.

Relax. Soothe the anger. Subdue the fear. Either one could kill me now. Calm, alert, professional!

A snapping of twigs, the sound of hurrying feet almost lost beneath the white noise of the rain.

He turned, raised the gun, aimed at the running figure, ignoring the plumes of dirt that exploded nearby as the other opened fire.

He's running, he can't aim properly. Sloppy. If he had just taken his time...

Martin squeezed off three shots, noting with grim satisfaction that each one found its target. The man stumbled, fell, rolled, made a brave attempt to rise again.

One more shot. The back of the man's head exploded, spraying blood and bone and brain in a fantail behind him.