‘An interrogation cell. How quaint,’ he commented.
‘Sit down,’ instructed the man behind the desk.
Salind glanced up at the camera set up in the corner of the room. A meaty hand on his back propelled him gently but firmly to the stool on the other side of the desk. He sat, and just to show his confidence he crossed his legs and casually scanned his surroundings.
‘You are Mr Gem Salind?’
‘Just call me Salind, everyone does.’
The man opposite did not look up. ‘I am Superintendent Callus — by name and nature some say. You are aware that when you came to Banjer you stepped out of Polity jurisdiction?’
Callus looked up and, placing his elbows on the desk, interlaced his fingers before his mouth.
‘I was aware. I am also aware that I have broken no laws, be they of the Polity or Banjer,’
Salind replied.
Callus nodded. ‘Having knowledge of a serious crime and not reporting it to the authorities is a crime in itself.’
‘So I understand, and if I’d knowledge of such I would, of course, report it to you immediately.’
‘You knew what Garp intended.’
‘No, if you’d listened to my statement at the time. .’
‘You saw the rail-gun.’
‘Oh get real. It’s all a matter of public record. If he threatened anyone it was Deleen Soper, and that’s debatable.’
A hard hand clouted him on the back of his head.
‘What the fuck!’
He half turned, but the thug behind him grabbed his hair and yanked his head back. He was forced to continue looking forwards.
‘Around here we respect the law.’ As Callus said this, the thug behind drove a fist into Salind’s kidneys.
‘You fucking-’
Another blow curtailed speech, and more blows followed.
I’m being assaulted in the Siroc police headquarters!
Message relayed.
Finally released, Salind fell from the chair onto his hands and knees and retched up his breakfast.
‘Are you in pain? Would you like me to get a doctor?’ Callus enquired.
Salind could not reply, so leaning over to peer down at him, Callus continued, ‘I understand that you can record everything you see, hear and smell. Perhaps you’d like to edit that mess out.’ He nodded towards the pool of vomit. ‘Perhaps it would also be well for you to remember that you cannot see everything and not everything is said. In future I suggest you report to us before you release unsubstantiated stories about our citizens.’
Message reply: Geoff is on his way over and the Tarjen legal department has been informed. Geoff also sends a personal message: They will only rough you up a little. If anything more was intended you would not have been taken to the police station. You would have been taken to the Groves.
Finally managing to get his breath, Salind struggled to his feet and turned towards his attacker. The cop had stepped back and now stood with his hands behind his back — the perfect image of the disinterested observer. It had all been done very well.
‘You won’t get away. . with this,’ Salind managed, then could have kicked himself for such naivete.
‘Get away with what, exactly?’ said Callus. ‘Now, Mr Salind, if you could bear my words in mind we would be grateful for your cooperation.’
Callus stood up and reached across the desk to shake Salind’s hand.
‘Fuck off.’ Salind moved to the door, keeping the both of them in view. No one followed him out. He staggered to the waiting room, then to the security barrier leading out onto the street. Fifty metres down the pavement, his breathing had become little easier when a hydrocar pulled up and its door popped open. He clambered in.
‘You okay?’ asked Geoff.
‘I think they were acting as Deleen Soper’s message delivery service.’ Salind probed his bruised kidneys.
‘Quite likely. What now?’
‘Pull the legals off. I don’t want anything getting in the way. Then I want to find out what’s happening with Garp. Geronamid’s people grabbed him didn’t they?’
‘Yes, then what?’
‘Then I interview Deleen Soper.’
Geoff looked askance at him then pulled the hydrocar out into the traffic.
‘Already been done,’ he said.
‘What, Merril’s hack-and-slash job?’
‘Yes, and Merril better keep her head down or she’ll get a hack-and-slash job in return.’
‘Really?’
‘Really.’
The new Polity Embassy sprawled across twenty hectares of reclaimed marshland on the south side of Siroc, which was the capital city of the planet’s main continent. At the centre of the complex rested a replica of the Millennium Dome of old London on Earth — an ironical architectural statement if ever there was one. The monitor driving one of the first antigravity cars to be used here remained reticent on the subjects of Garp and Geronamid. Salind became insistent.
‘You know that criminal actions here are out of your jurisdiction for the moment. I had a nice police officer explaining that sort of thing to me only a few hours ago. So why did you people grab him?’ he asked.
‘As I have already told you, Mr Salind, I do not possess that information,’ she replied.
Salind sat back as the car began to spiral down into the complex. ‘Perhaps you can tell me who Garp killed?’
‘An acrobat, I believe.’ As she said this she touched her finger just below her ear — an unconscious action of someone listening to a comlink. She continued, ‘Geronamid will see you.
Perhaps he will explain.’
Salind grinned. There were thousands of reporters on Banjer who would have killed for this opportunity.
The monitor landed the car on a plascrete parking area and, after they disembarked, led the way toward a nearby building bearing the appearance of a Turkish mosque. One of the grey metal Golem came out to meet them.
‘This Golem will take you to the Arbiter.’ The monitor hurried off with her finger pressed below her ear. Salind studied the Golem. It had not been referred to by name, which probably meant it was a blank Golem being run by one of Geronamid’s sub-programs. And close to it now, he realized it did appear corroded. Ceramal did not oxidize in air, so this must have been caused by a powerful acid or some kind of energy burst. He wondered it this was just for the look or the result of some ambassadorial cock-up. Salind queried Argus and received an immediate reply, but he put that on hold.
‘This way,’ said the Golem.
‘Why the appearance?’ Salind asked, as they entered the building.
‘All part of Geronamid’s implicit message,’ it said.
‘Which part?’
The Golem paused before replying. ‘Membership of the Polity comes with all its advantages and drawbacks. All its AIs in every form. He would not want people to protest that the Polity had been mis-sold.’
‘Wouldn’t a less threatening appearance have been better?’
‘Exactly the point,’ said the Golem.