‘No excess thermal activity in either Carousel New Seattle-Tacoma or the Chevelure-Sambuke Hourglass,’ Baudry said. ‘But according to our data, neither of those habitats has any kind of manufacturing capacity.’
Dreyfus scratched at the back of his collar. ‘Thalia’s upgrade may have been contaminated, but I’m pretty sure she chose those four habitats herself, based on her own selection criteria.’
‘Meaning what?’ Aumonier asked.
‘Meaning Aurora may not have had any influence over which habitats she got control of. Given four, the chances were good that at least one of them was going to have some kind of manufacturing capability. But it wasn’t guaranteed. Looks like two of the four were duds, in any case. She’s captured them, but right now she can’t make them work for her.’
‘I’m not taking my eye off any of these habitats.’
‘I agree. But it shows us that Aurora isn’t pulling all the strings here. She had to work with the hand Thalia dealt her.’ Dreyfus flashed a bleak smile. ‘I won’t say it gladdens my heart, but—’
‘Problem is we may already have done the work she needs.’
‘I’m hoping that isn’t the case.’ But Dreyfus still nodded, letting Aumonier know that he shared her fears. ‘You’re right, though. We need a closer look at whatever those factories are spewing out. How fast would you say that stuff is emerging?’
‘I don’t know. Judging by the scale… hundreds of metres a second, maybe faster.’
‘I concur,’ Baudry said.
‘That’s what I was thinking,’ Dreyfus said. ‘Pretty damned fast, anyway. I’ll need to look at the Solid Orrery, but given the mean spacing between habitats, it isn’t going to take very long before the swarm reaches another one. Let’s assume the closest neighbour to Aubusson is sixty or seventy kilometres away, in the same orbit. Even if that stuff is only moving at ten metres a second, we’re not looking at much more than two hours. Of course, I hope I’m wrong.’
‘You’re hardly ever wrong,’ Aumonier said. ‘That’s what worries me.’
Dreyfus glanced at Baudry. ‘We need to task ships for a close fly-by of one of those clouds. Automated, if possible, but manned if that’s all we can manage in the time available.’
‘I’ll get on it. We have a deep-system cruiser — the Democratic Circus — inbound from the Parking Swarm. I’ve already asked Captain Pell to swing by Aubusson, to see if he can image the remains of the Universal Suffrage, sweep for survivors and get a better look at those weapons emplacements.’
‘Tell them to take care,’ Dreyfus said.
Baudry said, ‘I already did. Now I’ll tell them to take even more.’
‘The scope of this crisis is now greater than the four lost habitats,’ Dreyfus said, directing his words back at Aumonier. ‘I’ll run the Orrery immediately, but in the meantime I think we should consider an appropriate statement. We’ve buffered the citizenry so far, but now it may be time to start alerting the wider Glitter Band to the real nature of the crisis.’
Aumonier swallowed hard. ‘I don’t want mass panic. What should we tell them?’
Dreyfus looked pragmatic. ‘Frankly, mass panic may be the least of our worries.’
‘Even so… we still don’t know what we’re dealing with, what Aurora wants, what she’s doing with those habitats when she gains control of them.’
‘Tell them something’s trying to take over,’ Dreyfus said. ‘Tell them that it has nothing to do with the Ultras, and that we’ll phase in mass euthanisation if we even suspect that someone’s trying to settle an old score with the Swarm. Tell them that Panoply is declaring a Bandwide state of emergency, and that this time we really need a vote in favour of utilizing heavy weapons.’
‘We don’t have it already?’ Aumonier asked.
‘I dropped the ball,’ Baudry said. ‘I went to the polls, stressed that we had a crisis on our hands, but didn’t spell out the true severity of the situation. I didn’t lie, but I let them think I was just talking about the crisis with the Ultras.’
‘Because you didn’t want panic?’
‘Exactly so,’ she said.
‘Then you probably did exactly what I’d have done.’ Aumonier held Lillian Baudry’s gaze for a long moment, signalling to her that, whatever the other woman had done, her professional conduct in Aumonier’s absence was not in doubt. She needed allies around her now, people who knew they had her confidence and trust. ‘But Tom’s right,’ she added. ‘We need that vote. As a matter of fact, I’ll table a request for every emergency privilege in the book. Up to and including mass lockdowns and the curtailing of Bandwide abstraction and polling services.’
‘We haven’t had to do that in—’ Baudry began.
Aumonier nodded. ‘I know. Eleven years. And doesn’t it feel like yesterday?’
CHAPTER 22
Dreyfus had asked to be alerted the instant Sheridan Gaffney regained consciousness. Mercier — who was now handling the patient following the fraught operation that had been mainly supervised by Demikhov — was predictably reluctant to let Dreyfus anywhere near the recuperating senior prefect.
‘If you had any idea of the severity of the procedure he’s just gone through, the extent of the internal damage caused by the whiphound,’ Mercier said, waving his hands graphically, his treasured fountain pen clutched like a dagger as he guarded the entrance to the medical centre.
Dreyfus looked at the doctor obligingly. He’d always had a good relationship with Mercier and was reluctant to jeopardise it now. ‘I understand your concerns. They’re admirable. All I need to know is, can he talk?’
‘He’s suffered severe laceration of the trachea. He has a damaged larynx. About all he can manage right now is a croak, and even that causes him great pain. Please, Tom. No matter what this man did, but he’s still a patient.’
‘If we could wait, we would,’ Dreyfus said, ‘but right now we’re in a situation where even an hour is too long. Gaffney has information vital to the security of the Glitter Band. I need to speak to him immediately.’
Mercier wilted, clearly aware that this was not a battle he could hope to win. ‘You can force this through, can’t you?’
‘I have Jane’s authority. Baudry’s, too, as if Jane’s isn’t enough. Please, Doctor. Minutes are ticking by while you and I debate the health of a man who was quite happy to murder another of your patients.’
Mercier looked disappointed. ‘You think I didn’t put two and two together, Tom? I’m not that stupid. I guessed exactly what Gaffney did. But he’s still a sick man, no matter what he did to Clepsydra.’
Dreyfus placed a hand on Mercier’s green-sleeved forearm. ‘I need to do this. Please don’t make it any harder.’
Mercier stepped aside. ‘Do whatever you have to do. Then get out of my clinic, Tom. The next time you come here, you’d better be the one seeking medical help.’
Dreyfus stepped through into the recovery room. It was a spartan cube lit only by thin blue strips set into the upper walls. Gaffney was in a bed at one end of the cube, attended by a single medical servitor with a swooping white swan’s neck. The transparent passwall sealed itself behind Dreyfus, subtly changing the acoustics of the room. He walked to the bedside, then conjured his usual chair out of the floor. Gaffney’s face was an impassive mask, almost deathlike, but his eyes betrayed alertness. They tracked Dreyfus with reptilian intensity.
‘No flowers?’ Gaffney said, scratching the words out. ‘That’s a surprise.’
‘You’re more talkative than Mercier led me to expect.’