Authors: Peter F. Hamilton
“I'm here to pick up my collection.”
“Yeah,” Stubsy said, scratching the base of his neck. “Yeah. Yeah. That's it. You are.” Somewhere in the house behind him was the sound of bare feet running on tiles.
Troblum had to consult his social interaction program. “Can I get them now, please?” he read off his exovision script.
“Okay,” Stubsy said reluctantly. He swung the door open and stood aside.
The open area in the middle of the house was exactly as before, with waterfalls bubbling swiftly down the surrounding boulders to top up the pool. Green and yellow flowering plants twice Troblum's height waved in the gusts that were starting to spill over the low roof. Nobody was swimming. Three of Stubsy's Olympic warrior woman companions were waiting in the patio area, one lying on a sun lounger while the other two stood motionless beside the long bar. Troblum's mild field scan showed him that all their enrichments were inactive.
The sound of thunder rolled through the sky. All three companions looked up at the noise.
“Are you going to put up a force field?” Troblum asked Stubsy as he sank his bulk into a sun lounger. The wood and fabric creaked as it accepted his full weight. He'd chosen the one next to the companion in the emerald-green bikini. She was gripping the edges of her own sun lounger very tightly, as if she were holding herself down against a gravity inversion. “That storm looked big.”
“Force field,” Stubsy said. “Yeah. Good idea, man. Uh, yeah, we can do that, sure.”
“Did my collection arrive okay?”
Stubsy nodded his head and perched himself on a sun lounger beside the companion in the green bikini. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “It's here. We ferried it over from the freighter as agreed. The captain was very curious, you know. I had to slot some extra cash his way. I've got it all downstairs. Man, I wasn't expecting so much junk, you know.”
“I have been collecting for a long time. And it is not junk.” Troblum glanced up as a force field came on above the villa. The sound of the wind shrank to nothing. “I'd like to get it loaded on my starship today.”
“Where is your starship, man?”
“Close,” Troblum said. He wasn't going to give anything away until he'd sorted out payment and the collection was ready to be moved. “Do you have a cargo capsule?”
“Sure, sure.”
“There's something else I need from you if you don't mind. I'll pay for the trouble, of course.”
Stubsy drew down a loud breath, as if he was having trouble swallowing. “What's that, then, man?”
“I want to meet someone here in private. Someone you wouldn't ordinarily have at your house. You'll have to clear them with the city's defense system.”
“Who?”
“Think of her as a police officer.”
“Police?” Stubsy grimaced a smile. “Ho, boy. Well, what the hell, we're all going to die in the Void boundary anyway, right?”
“Possibly,” Troblum said. He didn't know what to make of the expansion phase yet. If it really couldn't be stopped, fleeing to a colony world was going to be no use at all. He'd have to travel all the way to another galaxy, as Nigel Sheldon was rumored to have done. It would be a huge challenge for the
Mellanie's Redemption
. Fortunately, the hardware he'd taken from the Accelerator station should make such a flight achievable if he could ever assemble the myriad components and make it work. “So I can call her and arrange a meeting?”
Stubsy produced a strange little laugh, and his eyes crinkled. “Sure.”
“Thank you,” Troblum said. He used the secure link he was maintaining to his starship to call ANA:Governance's security division.
“Yes, Troblum,” ANA:Governance said.
“Connect me to Paula Myo, please.”
“As you wish.”
Paula Myo came online. “Are you ready to meet?”
“I told you not to stealth your ship.”
“I haven't.”
“Then where are you?”
“Close to Sholapur.”
“All right. I'm at Ikeo city, Florac's villa. I've arranged for him to let you through the city's defenses. How long will it take you to reach me?”
“I can be there within a couple of hours.”
“Fine, I'll be waiting.” Troblum ended the call. He glanced over at Stubsy, who hadn't moved. “She'll be here in two hours.” That wasn't exactly what she'd said, a pedantic section of his mind acknowledged. Paula would never lie, but there were a lot of ambiguities in the way she'd phrased it.
“Cool,” Stubsy said.
“Can I see the collection?”
“Sure thing, man. It's downstairs.”
Stubsy led the way back into the villa. The three companions stayed beside the pool, though their eyes followed Troblum like targeting sensors as he walked after Stubsy.
One of the arching doors in the hallway opened to a set of concrete stairs leading down. Stubsy stood at the top as the polyphoto strips came on. He seemed reluctant to go down.
“Down here?” Troblum asked.
“Yeah,” Stubsy whispered.
The dealer was sweating again, Troblum saw. Whatever excess he'd indulged in the previous night must have been substantial for his body to take so long to flush the effects out.
Stubsy started down the stairs. Troblum was right behind him, keen to make sure his precious collection of Starflyer War memorabilia was unharmed. Everything had been in individual cases with a stabilizer field, but he'd had to rely on chartered commercial carriers to get it all to Sholapur without any supervision on his part; it was the only way to avoid Marius's attention. So much could have gone wrong.
There was a broad passage at the bottom of the stairs, carved into the naked rock, with smaller corridors branching off every few meters. They were lined with malmetal doors. Stubsy's vaults were a lot larger than the villa above.
Troblum nearly asked,
What do you keep down here?
But his social interaction program told him that Stubsy was likely to get upset by that kind of question.
Stubsy turned off into one of the side passages. A malmetal door opened for him. Lights came on in the chamber beyond. Troblum walked into a large circular chamber filled with low tables. His collection was there waiting for him. Every priceless case shimmered with protective shielding. It was going to be tough squeezing everything into
Mellanie's Redemption
, he acknowledged; some of the larger items might have to be discarded. His u-shadow performed a fast inventory, checking case logs. They'd been banged around more than Troblum liked, but the cases had protected their contents perfectly. Smiling, he ran his hand over the case containing the handheld array with a foxory casing; the expensive unit had belonged to Mellanie Rescorai herself, a gift from her lover Morton before his trial. Troblum could just discern its outline below the shimmering.
“Thank you,” Troblum said. “I know you didn't have to do this.” When he glanced up at Stubsy Florac, he saw an expression his emotional context program interpreted as anger and contempt.
The villa nodes relaying his secure link to
Mellanie's Redemption
went dead.
“All this makes me feel quite at home,” the Cat said.
Shock ran through Troblum's body in the same way as physical pain. His knees almost gave way, forcing him to clutch at the table. She stepped out from behind a huge casing containing the blunt nose cone belonging to a Wessex-based exospheric combat aerobot. Her lean body was dressed in a simple white suit that emitted a hazy glow as if she were a historical saint. It was wreathed in black bands that undulated slowly; ten of them formed a bizarre cage around her head. Troblum knew the suit had to be some kind of armor. Even now, with fear so strong that it threatened to reduce him to tears, he acknowledged that she looked quite magnificent.
“Troblum, my dear,” she said brightly, as if she'd only just caught sight of him. “How lovely to see you again. You're really a lot of fun. It was a brilliant game we played. Well, I thought so.”
“Game?” he said weakly. His integral force field had come on instantly, though he knew it would be no use against her.
The Cat took a few paces toward him. Troblum lurched backward in near panic. Even now he couldn't resist admiring her movements; they really were feline.
“Why, yes, darling,” the Cat said. “How funny you couldn't work it out. Marius was right, wasn't he? You don't connect with humans on an emotional level. You marched in here completely oblivious to dear old Stubsy and his naughty little posse. Didn't you see their faces, Troblum? Take a look now.”
Troblum gave Stubsy a wild glance. The dealer's face was a rigid mask, teeth clamped together so hard that his lips were quivering. Two of the companions appeared at the chamber door, tall and powerful. Troblum recognized them from his last visit: Simonie was wearing a scarlet dress with a high hem, while Alcinda's taut muscles stretched her shiny black bikini fabric nearly to the bursting point.
The Cat let out a mocking wolf whistle. “Aren't they gorgeous, and they play nasty, too, which is really fun.” She cocked her head at Troblum. “You still don't get it, do you? Fantastic. You are interesting. Run an emotional context recognition program, my dear. It'll tell you they're all very, very pissed off. They were when you came through the front door, and sadly they still are. All because of little old me.”
“Okay,” Troblum said. “You're right; I didn't get it. Congratulations.”
“I know.” The Cat gave a fulsome pout. “Me and Stubsy here had a small wager going. I thought you'd realize by the time you reached the pool; Stubsy said it would be as soon as you arrived and saw him. We both lost. Your fault.”
“How did you find me?” Troblum said. He didn't really have any tactical programs to run, no smart way to work out how to escape from an underground room with only one door and no communication. But then, he was pretty sure even the best tactical program would tell him he was going to die. His own knowledge unfortunately supplied him with a host of extremely unpleasant methods she was known to use to kill her enemies (and friends), and that was before he called up her file to check. If he could just keep her talking â¦Â He glanced at the door again.
“Oh, my!” The Cat's delighted laughter rang across the chamber as she caught his unsubtle motion. “Troblum, darling, are you going to make a run for it? Tell you what, I'll give you a five-minute head start. Do you think your fat legs can reach the bottom of the stairs by then? Will you need to sit down and take a breather?”
“Fuck you.”
“Troblum! How jolly rude!”
From anyone else it would have been ridiculous. From her, it frightened him even further.
“How did you find me?” he repeated.
The Cat batted her eyes. “It was so difficult. You're such a master covert agent. Let me see, could it be all the illegal money your Accelerator friends pay into your External world bank accounts, which is rather easily traceable to Stubsy here? Or was it when you called ANA:Governance and told my dearest old chum Paula Myo to meet you here? Hmm, which was it now? My memory is not what it was.”
“Oh.” It wasn't often Troblum felt foolish, but the way she said it made him realize what an idiot he'd been. He'd suspected that the unisphere might be compromised to a faction, yet he still hadn't taken adequate precautions. And as for the money, well, any half-rate e-head could trace money.
“Where's your ship?” the Cat said.
Troblum shook his head. “No.” The smartcore had some very specific instructions should his secure link be broken. A timer was counting down in his exovision. It was a small glimmer of hope, though he suspected the kind of ship the Accelerators had supplied her with would be able to burn
Mellanie's Redemption
out of the sky with a single shot. More bad planning. That left just one chance.
“Troblum,” she said as if chiding a child. “I'd like to know where your ship is, and I want the command codes. And I believe that you of all people know you really shouldn't annoy me.”
“I know. Why do you want the ship?”
“Oh, come on; you know that, darling. Marius might be slightly peeved you made him look like a complete dickhead in front of his masters, but that hardly motivates me, now, does it, Mr. Me Expert?”
“Paula. You want to use it to catch Paula.”
She clapped her hands delightedly. “She and I are going to be together for a very long time. I have plans, you see. Big plans for our shared future. And I need her intact. Which you're going to help me achieve by convincing her that everything here is just hunky-dory.”
“There's no point. Nobody has a future anymore. The galaxy is being eaten alive. We're all going to die within a few years.”
A flicker of annoyance passed over the Cat's face. She gave Troblum a long stare. “I want her to walk in here expecting to see you. Moderately unsuspecting, though she is a paranoid little bitch. So â¦Â Ship. Now.”
“No.”
“What do I do to people I don't like?”
He shrugged, not wanting to think of the details he'd so laboriously extracted from various police reports over the decades.
“You will help me,” she said. “Don't make me threaten you. I'm only being this patient because I know you don't understand the consequences of your stupidity. So ask yourself this: How come Stubsy and his friends are being so cooperative?”
Troblum turned to the dealer. It wasn't something he'd considered. Another mistake, he thought.
“Just help her,” Stubsy said brokenly.
“I cheated,” the Cat said, and rested a finger on her lips. “Bad lady that I am. I used a small insert.” She grinned at the companions, who glared back at her through clenched teeth. “And it was quite difficult to insert, wasn't it, girls? You know, I actually had to hold them down to do it, there was so much girly squealing and wiggling. And look at them now, happy to do as they're told.”