have to be looking over our shoulders all the time.’
The captain piped his reply.
‘He says he understands the benefits in terms of trading rights,’ the interpreter said, ‘but he also wishes to emphasise the risk he would be taking by bringing his ship closer to Hela. He mentions the fate that befell the
‘And there was me thinking it was bad taste to mention it.’
She ignored him. ‘And he wishes to have these beneficial trading arrangements clarified before any further discussion takes place. He wishes also to specify a maximum term for the period of protection, and…’ She paused while Heckel piped out a series of rambling additions. ‘He also wishes to discuss the exclusion from trade of certain other parties currently in the system, or approaching it. Parties to be excluded would include, but not be limited to, the trade vessels
She continued until she noticed Quaiche’s raised hand. ‘We can discuss these things in good time,’ he said, his heart sinking. ‘In the meantime, the cathedral would — of course — require a full technical examination of the
‘The captain wonders if you doubt the worthiness of his ship,’ the interpreter said.
‘Not at all. Why should I? He made it this far, didn’t he? On the other hand, if he has nothing to hide…’
‘The captain wishes to retire to his shuttle to consider matters.’
‘Of course,’ Quaiche said with sudden eagerness, as if nothing was too much to ask. ‘This is a serious proposal, and nothing should be agreed in haste. Sleep on it. Talk to some other parties. Get a second opinion. Shall I call an escort?’
‘The captain can find his own way back to the shuttle,’ she said.
Quaiche spread his fingers in farewell. ‘Very well, then. Please convey my best wishes to your crew… and consider my offer
The captain swung around, his assistants continuing to adjust the control valves and levers in his ludicrous kettle of a suit. With a mad rhythmic clanking he began to locomote towards the door. His departure was as painfully slow as his arrival had been, the suit appearing incapable of moving more than an inch at a time.
The captain paused, then laboriously turned around. The wiper blades flicked back and forth. The pipe organ chimed out another sequence of notes.
‘Begging your pardon,’ the interpreter said, ‘but the captain has another question. Upon his approach to the Lady Morwenna, he made an unscheduled excursion from the usual flight path due to a technical problem with the shuttle.’
‘A technical problem? Now there’s a surprise.’
‘In the process of this deviation he witnessed significant excavation work taking place a little to the north of the Permanent Way, near the Jarnsaxa Flats. He saw what appeared to be a partially camouflaged dig. Investigating with the shuttle’s radar, he detected a sloping cavity several kilometres in length and at least a kilometre deep. He assumed that the dig was related to the unearthing of scuttler relics.’
‘That may be the case,’ Quaiche said, affecting an uninterested tone.
‘The captain was puzzled. He admits to being no expert on Hela affairs, but he was given to understand that most significant scuttler relics have been unearthed in the circumpolar regions.’
‘Scuttler relics are found all over Hela,’ Quaiche said. ‘It’s just that due to quirks of geography they’re easier to get at in the polar regions. I don’t know what this dig was that you saw, or why it was camouflaged. Most of the digging work takes place outside the direct administration of the churches, alas. We can’t keep tabs on everyone.’
‘The captain thanks you for your most helpful response.’
Quaiche frowned, and then corrected his frown to a tolerant smile. What was that: sarcasm, or had she just not hit quite the right note? She was a baseline human, like himself, the kind of person he had once been able to read like a diagram. Now she and her kind — not just women, but almost everyone — lay far beyond the boundaries of his instinctive understanding. He watched them leave, smelling something hot and metallic trailing in the captain’s wake, waiting impatiently while the room cleared of the noxious steam.
Soon, the tapping of a cane announced Grelier’s arrival. He had not been far away, listening in on the proceedings via concealed cameras and microphones.
‘Seems promising enough,’ the surgeon-general ventured. ‘They didn’t dismiss you out of hand, and they do have a ship. My guess is they can’t wait to make the deal.’
‘That’s what I thought as well,’ Quaiche said. He rubbed a smear of condensation from one of his mirrors, restoring Haldora to its usual pinpoint sharpness. ‘In fact, once you stripped away Heckel’s not very convincing bluster I got the impression they needed our arrangement very badly.’ He held up a sheet of paper, one that he had held tightly to his chest throughout the negotiations. ‘Technical summary on their ship, from our spies in the parking swarm. Doesn’t make encouraging reading. The bloody thing’s falling to bits. Barely made it to 107 P.’
‘Let me see.’ Grelier glanced at the paper, skimming it. ‘You can’t be certain this is accurate.’
‘I can’t?’
‘No. Ultras routinely downplay the worthiness of their ships, often putting out misinformation to that effect. They do it to lull competitors into a false sense of superiority, and to dissuade pirates interested in stealing their ships.’
‘But they always overstate their defensive capabilities,’ Quaiche said, wagging a finger at the surgeon- general. ‘Right now there isn’t a ship in that swarm that doesn’t have weapons of some kind, even if they’re disguised as innocent collision avoidance systems. They’re scared, Grelier, all of them, and they all want their rivals to know they have the means to defend themselves.’ He snatched back the paper. ‘But this? It’s a joke. They need our patronage so they can fix their ship first. It should be the other way around, if their protection is to have any meaning to us.’
‘As I said, where the intentions of Ultras are concerned nothing should be taken at face value.’
Quaiche crumpled the paper and threw it across the room. ‘The problem is I can’t
‘No one could be expected to read a monstrosity like Heckel,’ Grelier said.
‘I don’t mean just him. I’m talking about the other Ultras, or the normal humans that come down with them, like that woman just now. I couldn’t tell if she was being sincere or patronising, let alone whether she really believed what Heckel was having her say.’
Grelier kissed the head of his cane. ‘You want my opinion? Your assessment of the situation was accurate: she was just Heckel’s mouthpiece. He wanted to do business very badly.’
‘Too bloody badly,’ Quaiche said.
Grelier tapped the cane against the floor. ‘Forget the
‘The summaries also mentioned an instability in her starboard drive. Did you miss that bit?’
Grelier shrugged. ‘It’s not as though we need them to take us anywhere, just to sit in orbit around Hela intimidating the rest of them. As long as the weapons are sufficient for that task, what do we care if the ship won’t be capable of leaving once the arrangement is over?’
Quaiche waved a hand vaguely. ‘To be honest, I didn’t really like the fellow they sent down. Kept leaking all over the floor. Took weeks to get rid of the stain after he’d left. And a drive instability isn’t the mild inconvenience you seem to assume. The ship we come to an agreement with will be sitting within tenths of a light-second of our surface, Grelier. We can’t risk it blowing up in our faces.’
‘Back to square one, in that case,’ Grelier said, with little detectable sympathy. ‘There are other Ultras to interview, aren’t there?’
‘Enough to keep me busy, but I’ll always come back to the same fundamental problem: I simply cannot
‘We’ve had this conversation before. You know you can always seek my opinion.’
‘And I do. But — no insult intended, Grelier — you know a great deal more about blood and cloning than you
