“I do appreciate your concern. You have heavy arms…for onworld security…surely. I’d appreciate it if a goodly number were delivered to my estate, say, sufficient for a thousand men.”
Faces went uniformly stark with shock.
“Precaution, you see, against dissidents, saboteurs, and deranged persons. If it’s generally known that we’re armed, ITAK being so inclined to general broadcast channels, there will be less temptation. I certainly hope not to use them. But you wouldn’t like the consequences of a Kontrin killed here…by your own locals. No. You’d be surprised how even Houses at odds with mine would look on that: the Family…would be forced to make a very strong answer to that. The facts of policy. Kindly see that the arms arrive. They’re quite safe in my hands. My security, after all, is yours. And enough, enough unpleasantness. I’m quite delighted by your courtesy. I’ll extend you my own hospitality as soon as I’m decently settled and housed. If there’s entertainment to be had, I’d appreciate knowing. I suffer from boredom. I do hope there’s some society here.”
The pallor did not entirely depart. They murmured courtesies, professed themselves honoured and delighted by the prospect of her company socially. She laughed softly.
“And Outsiders!” she exclaimed ingenuously. “Seri, I saw an Outsider ship at station…an ordinary sight for you, surely, but profoundly exciting for one from innerworlds. I’ve met these folk, had some chance to talk with them. Do you include them in your society?”
That brought silence, a moment of awkwardness.
“It could be arranged,” sera Dain said.
“Excellent.” Raen finished her drink and set it aside.
“We’ll be pleased to provide what we can in all respects,” ser Dain managed to say. “Would you care for another drink, Kont’ Raen?”
“No, thank you.” She gathered herself up and waited for Jim, deliberately slipped her hand within his arm. “I’m quite content with your courtesy. Very pleased. Thank you so much. And don’t worry about what I shall uncover. I know that you’ve been driven to unusual methods, unusual sources. I give you warning that I know…and I shall refrain from seeing what perhaps shades your license. The maintenance of order here under trying circumstances is a tribute to your ingenuity. I don’t find fault, seri. And do forgive me. My next call will be entirely social, I assure you.”
Men moved to reach the door, to open it for her. She smiled at them one and all and walked out, with Jim beside her, in a crowd of security agents who made turmoil in the outer offices.
The agents, armoured police, and Dain senior himself insisted on staying with them, in the lift and out into the foyer. She lingered there an instant, with the crowd milling about, looking up to the glass sculpture.
“Find me the artist’s address,” she said to Dain. “Send it to me this evening. Would you do that?”
“Honoured,” he said. “Honoured to do so.”
She walked on. The crowds broke and closed.
“You would find interest, perhaps,” ser Dain rambled on, while the police in advance of them pushed folk from before the doors to clear passage, “in an example I have in my own house, if you would do me the honour to—”
Shadows moved beyond the tinted-glass doors, out beneath the pillars, about the car…too-tall shadows, fantastical.
“ Sera,” Jim protested.
Under her cloak she drew her gun, but ser Dain put out his hand, not touching—offering caution. “The police will move them. Please, sera!”
Raen paid him no heed, stayed with the rush of the agents and the police as they burst outside.
Greens. Warriors. They swarmed about the entrance, about the car. “Away!” a policeman shouted at them. “Move away!”
Auditory palps flicked out, back, refusal to listen. The majat did move back somewhat, averaging a line, a group.
“Green-hive!” Raen shouted at them, seeing the beginning formation. She brought her hand out into the open, gun and all. Auditory palps came forward, half. At her right was the car; Merry surely still had the doors locked. “Jim,” she said. “Jim, get in the car. Get in.”
“Blue,” green leader intoned. “Blue-hive Kontrin.”
“I’m Raen Meth-maren. What are greens doing in a beta City?”
“Hive-massster.” There was more than one voice to that, and an ominous clicking from the others. They began to shift position, edging to the sides.
“Watch out!” Raen yelled; and fired as the greens skittered this way and that. Green leader went down squalling. Some leapt. She whirled and fired, careless of bystanders, took others. Police and security began firing with Dain screaming orders, his voice drowned in bystanders’ panic.
Then the greens broke and ran, with blinding rapidity, across the pavings, down into the subway ramp, down into tunnels, elsewhere.
Dying majat scraped frenetically on the concrete, limbs twitching. Humans babbled and sobbed. Raen looked back and saw Jim by the car, on his feet and all right; Dain, surrounded by security personnel, looked ill.
“Better find out if the rest of the building is secure,” Raen said to one of the police. Another, armour-protected, was being dragged from the body of a dead majat; safe, he lay convulsing in shock. Someone was leaning over against the side of a column, vomiting. Two victims were decapitated. Raen looked away, fixed Dain with a stare. “This comes of trifling with the hives, ser. You see the consequences.”
“Not our choosing. They come. They come, and we can’t put them out. They—”
“They feed this world. They buy the grain. Don’t they”
“We can’t put them out of the city.” Dain’s face poured sweat; his hands fluttered as he sought a handkerchief, and mopped at his pallid skin. For an instant Raen thought the aging beta might die on the spot, and so, evidently, did the guards, who moved to support him.
“I believe you, ser Dain,” Raen assured him, moved to pity. “Leave them to me. Lock them out of your buildings; use locks, everywhere, ser Dain. Install security doors. Bars on windows. I can’t stress strongly enough your danger. I know them. Believe me in this.”
Dain answered nothing. His plump face was stark with terror.
Merry had the oar doors open. She waved an angry gesture at Jim, who scrambled in and flung himself into the back seat. She settled into the front, clipped her gun to her belt, slammed the door. “Home,” she told Merry. And then with a sharp look at the azi: “Can you?”
Merry was white with shock. She imagined what it must have been for him, with majat swarming all about the car, only glass between him and majat jaws. He managed to get the car down the ramp and engaged to the track, keyed in the com-unit. “Max,” he said hoarsely, “Max, it’s all right. we’re clear of them now.”
She heard Max answer, reporting all secure elsewhere.
She looked back then. Jim was sitting in the back seat with his hands clasped before his mouth, eyes distracted. “I had my gun,” he said. “I had it in my pocket. I had it in my pocket.”
“Practice on still targets first,” she said. “Not majat.”
He drew a more stable breath, composed himself, azi-calm. The car lurched slightly, having found the home-track, gathered speed.
Out the back window she saw a group of majat along the walkway…the same or others; there was no knowing.
She faced forward again, wiped at her lips. She found herself sweating, shaken. The car whipped along too fast now for hazard: no passers-by could define them at their speed. The lights became a flickering blur.
No majat troubled the A4 ramp. And at the house there was no evidence of difficulty. Raen relaxed in her seat, glad, for once, of the sight of the beta police on guard at the gate. There was a truck at a neighbour’s: the furnishings were being removed. She regarded that bleakly, turned her head again as their own gate opened for them.