“Well, my mind was perfectly concentrated,” Feurish said, with what sounded like a sigh. “We still can’t help you.”
“Give me Seer Fassin Taak,” Luseferous said, feeling some sweat — what? — start to break out on his forehead. He put a stop to that at once.
“We haven’t got this Taak fellow,” the City Administrator Peripule said reasonably.
“Tell me where he is,” Luseferous demanded. “Sorry,” Chintsion said. “Can’t help.”
“Fucking tell me!” Luseferous roared.
“How can we—?” Feurish began. Then Chintsion broke in. “Perhaps we can ask the people who claim to have seen Seer Taak last where they think he might be.”
“There were people from the Embassy who were reported to be looking for him,” Feurish pointed out. “Perhaps they found something.”
“I thought they were all killed when the Embassy ships were destroyed,” Chintsion said. “Weren’t they?”
“Look,” Peripule said reasonably to the Archimandrite. “Why don’t we just sleep on it, eh?”
Luseferous pointed furiously at the line of bodies heading slowly towards the planet. “Don’t you fuckwits understand? That doesn’t stop until I get what I want!”
The three Dwellers twisted to look as one. “Hmm,” Peripule said thoughtfully. “I do hope you have enough people.”
Luseferous’s fists clenched. He felt close to exploding, as though he was one of the people in the little production line of death sliding past the bowed diamond window. He struggled to keep his voice icily calm as he said, “There are three hundred Dweller youngsters aboard this ship. Perhaps if we used them instead? Or for target practice. What do you think?”
“I think you’ll annoy people,” Chintsion said, and laughed.
“You’re not seriously trying to use threats against us, are you?” Feurish asked.
“I had better point out, Mr Luseferous,” Chintsion said with what sounded almost like humour, “that some of the clubs I represent are of a military bent. Wonderfully enthusiastic, of course, proud to personify them, naturally, but sometimes — I don’t know, perhaps through boredom — they display characteristics which might almost be said to be bordering on those one would expect to be evinced by fellows of a ‘shoot-first’ mentality. Ah. If you know what I mean.”
Luseferous stared at this cretinous float. The plodding, thud, thud, thud sound went on. The line of tiny dark shapes continued to move across the tortured, livid face of the gas-giant. He turned to Tuhluer. “Go to full action stations,” he said. “Dark the view.”
The vast face of Nasqueron disappeared as the diamond bubble went obsidian black. The whole great chamber grew still darker and seemed to shrink. The thudding noise sounded louder.
“You three are to be held hostage,” Luseferous told the three Dwellers. “As will the young of your kind currently aboard this ship. If there is any attempt to rescue you or them, or any assault on this ship or on any of my ships or assets, you will all be killed. If I don’t get something provably useful on Seer Fassin Taak or whatever it was he was looking for in the next six hours standard, I’m going to start killing you anyway, starting with you three. Understand?”
“Really, Mr Luseferous,” Feurish said, “this is no way to run a conference.”
“I have to say that I have to agree,” Chintsion said.
“Shut up,” Luseferous told them. “I also have numerous ships with multi-real-tonne antimatter warheads stationed right round this gas-giant. Planet-busters. If there’s still nothing happening after you’re all dead, I start detonating them in your precious fucking atmosphere. What passes for the authorities on your giant rotten fart of a planet will be informed of the above in due course.” The Archimandrite looked up at the guards poised on the gantries above. “Take them away. Get them out of those esuits. By cutting if necessary.”
A dozen giant black figures like suits of ancient armour encrusted with huge dark jewels sailed down, landing on the black diamond film on great talon-spread legs. Four surrounded each of the three esuited Dwellers.
“Well, gentlemen,” the Dweller called Peripule said ruefully to the other two, “I suppose it is not open to us to claim we went unwarned.”
An instant later, three violet circular curtains of light blazed out within the dark chamber, one encircling each Dweller. The exoskel guards were either rocked right back or physically blown over. Those unprotected people standing or sitting further away were picked up and thrown towards the walls. The shock wave hit Luseferous’s tall seat a fraction after the safety shield deployed, so that he watched the resulting chaos through a clinker of half-silvered diamond shutters.
The blast shook his seat, shook him and then reflected and echoed back off the distant walls. The three violet cylinders disappeared and left three huge neatly circular holes in the black diamond film beneath. The sickly light of Nasqueron’s yellow-brown cloud tops shone through. The air in the chamber was whirling and screaming out through the apertures. Blinks of white light flickered outside. Two of the exoskel guards were tumbled across the floor, scrabbling for grip, and were sucked out of the holes. Luseferous just stood staring. People, mostly unconscious and badly injured, started to slide in from the edges of the chamber where they’d been deposited by the triple blasts towards the three shining holes. A third exoskeleton-clad figure was being pulled, giant hands scraping and scrabbling frantically at the smooth diamond surface, towards the nearest hole and the whirling vortex forming above it. Then the ship’s systems finally woke up to what was happening and a dark shape flicked across the three puncture wounds in the vessel’s skin, sealing off the light and keeping what remained of the atmosphere within.
Relative calm returned. The thud, thud, thud noise continued. A rushing sound signalled replacement air being pumped back into the chamber. The exoskel guards got to their feet, looked around, then ran over to form a protective shield about the Archimandrite. More black shapes came plummeting from the gantries. Luseferous could hear people in the chamber moaning. He turned to look at Tuhluer, who was limping up to him through the phalanx of exoskel guards, his own emergency esuit and helmet deployed, the shiny bulge of faceplate reflecting the silvery diamond bubble that enclosed the Archimandrite and his chair.
“Kill the other Dwellers,” Luseferous told him. Tuhluer leaned in, hand to the side of his head, seemingly not hearing. “KILL THE OTHER DWELLERS!” Luseferous shouted. He clicked a stud on the arm of the seat and the diamond shuttering fell away. “Get us away from here,” he told the other man. “Warn the planet the AM warheads launch in three hours if they don’t start cooperating.” He looked at where the three Dweller representatives had made their sudden exit. “And make sure the Rapacious wasted those three comedians.”
“Sir!” Tuhluer said. “And what about the… chute supply?”
It took a moment before Luseferous realised that he meant the people being launched towards the planet. He waved one hand. “Oh, dump the lot.”
The Archimandrite Luseferous clicked the esuit’s communicator and told the Rapacious he was on his way. He marched through the moaning wounded towards the ship-to-ship and the waiting vessel beneath. The exoskel guards fell in around him, forming a giant hedge of armoured limbs and menacingly jagged torsos. He was almost at the ship-to-ship entrance when he was thrown off his feet. The exoskels staggered as the whole vast ship shook. One of the giant guards nearly fell on him, regaining his balance only at the last moment, servos whining.