Luc watched with interest as Cheng pointedly cast his gaze around those gathered, and recalled what Offenbach had told him: Vasili had been given the job of Reunification not as a perk, but as a kind of punishment duty.
‘We all know how hard Sevgeny worked towards that goal,’ Cheng continued. ‘He may not have lived to see it fulfilled, but his body, if not his soul, will journey where his heart and his mind often did, to the mystery at the heart of our island universe. God speed, Sevgeny,’ he said, glancing towards the dark projection hovering in the air. ‘We’ll miss you, but you’ll always be with us, in spirit at least.’
Cheng stepped down from the platform, and someone new stepped up to say their piece. Luc meanwhile found his attention drawn to a figure that stood alone on the far side of the auditorium, and felt his skin prickle as if he had just been doused in ice-water.
Whoever they were, their face was entirely invisible beneath a mirrored mask. The mask formed part of a suit of cloth and metal that was covered in turn by a loose, flowing coat that billowed gently in the light breeze flowing down the slope of the hill.
The same figure he’d seen in his dreams, with Antonov’s angry face reflected in it.
<Who is that?> he demanded, pointing.
De Almeida glanced towards the masked figure, then regarded him with an expression of amusement before turning her attention back to the man delivering his eulogy on the stage. <That, Mr Gabion, is the Coalition Ambassador, Horst Sachs.>
<I know him,> Luc insisted. <I saw him in my dreams.>
<He certainly fits the description you gave me a few days ago, yes.>
<Coalition Ambassador?>
She gave him a sidewise glance full of irritation. <Of course. You know that we’ve had visitors from Darwin prior to the new transfer gate’s official opening. The Ambassador is our most frequent visitor of all. Sevgeny Vasili was scheduled to introduce him to the public during the Reunification ceremonies.>
Luc felt a shiver run through him at the sight of the masked figure. <I’m not sure how people are going to react if he’s still wearing that mask. Doesn’t he ever take it off?>
<Not to my knowledge, no,> she replied. <People in the Coalition are . . . very different from us, it seems. How different may prove to be a shock for many.>
<Then what I saw really was real,> he replied, feeling dazed.
<Clearly.>
<Then you understand what this means?> he sent back. <Antonov must have had dealings with the Ambassador. Why didn’t you tell me he was real before?>
<Because I knew there was a very good chance that he’d be here, and I wanted to see if you genuinely did recognize him.>
‘Zelia.’
Luc realized with a start that Ruy Borges had come over to join them. He stiffened with apprehension before remembering Borges could neither see nor hear him.
De Almeida’s response was filled with bored exasperation. ‘Whatever it is, can’t it wait, Ruy?’
‘I was just thinking,’ said Borges with a lopsided grin, ‘of what Javier might say if he was here. He’d have a few words to say about Sevgeny, wouldn’t he?’
Javier. He could only be talking about Javier Maxwell.
De Almeida scowled. ‘This really isn’t the time or the place.’
‘I almost forget sometimes how much those two men hated each other,’ Borges continued, his grin growing wider. ‘If it wasn’t for Javier being locked up in that prison of his, I’d have thought he was behind Sevgeny’s murder.’
‘I’m serious, Ruy,’ de Almeida growled. ‘Go away.’
‘Now if Javier were the next to be assassinated . . . well, it’s not like there’s a lack of volunteers when it comes to pulling the trigger.’
De Almeida stared at him with baleful contempt. ‘What, exactly, are you saying?’
Borges shrugged. ‘Just that if the security systems around that prison of his were to fail and something were to happen to him as a result, well . . . we’d be free of a serious thorn in our side, don’t you think?’
Luc saw some heads towards the front of the auditorium had turned away from the latest eulogy, and were keenly watching Borges’s confrontation with de Almeida instead.
She stood. ‘You’re suggesting I killed Vasili, and I should do the same to Javier. Is that it?’
Borges’s grin grew wider, his voice slightly louder, easily carrying across the auditorium. ‘It’s not like everybody doesn’t already think you did it. But if something were to happen to Javier, then it might help tip the balance in your favour a little.’
De Almeida stared at him with undisguised loathing. ‘Am I on trial?’ she demanded.
‘All I’m saying,’ Borges continued, ‘is that were you to allow the security on Javier’s prison to slip at the right time and place, there are a few people who might be prepared to take care of Javier the way you took care of Sevgeny.’
‘Would you be the one who pulled the trigger, Ruy?’ A cold smile twitched the corners of her mouth. ‘No, of course not. You just like to make speeches and threaten people. And let’s be clear on this: the one thing I don’t control is the security cordon around Javier’s prison. You know that just as well as I do. The Sandoz handle it under Joe’s direct supervision.’
Ruy’s hands twisted at his sides. ‘You know I’m not the only one who wants nothing to do with that thing masquerading as a human being,’ he spat, stabbing one finger in the direction of the masked Ambassador. ‘Joe’s hand is being forced when it comes to Reunification. He doesn’t say it, at least not to anyone outside of the Eighty-Five – but we all know it. Something’s going on that we aren’t being told about.’
Zelia’s expression became incredulous. ‘What the hell does Javier have to do with any of that?’
‘Because that’s what Javier’s always wanted, isn’t it?’ Borges’s voice was rising again, and even the woman delivering her eulogy had paused to listen. ‘To expose us to those . . . those monsters in the Coalition.’
Luc glanced towards the Ambassador, wondering how he felt about being described in such terms.
De Almeida waved one hand in dismissal. ‘You’re a fantasist, Ruy. Show some respect for Sevgeny’s memory and sit the hell back down.’
Out of the corner of his eye, Luc saw Cripps moving rapidly up the steps towards them.
‘Somebody has to say it,’ Borges spat. ‘Those people in the Coalition have all been changed by the Founder Network. For God’s sake, Zelia,’ he continued, a pleading tone creeping into his voice now, ‘how can we possibly know there’s anybody left alive on Darwin who’s truly human anymore, even in all of the Coalition? How do we know they weren’t compromised, even replaced by whatever it is that’s lurking in the Network?’
‘Stop this now.’
Borges turned to stare at Cripps, his nostrils flaring. ‘No,’ he said, shaking his head adamantly. ‘There are things that have to be said.’
‘This is a difficult enough time as it is,’ Cripps growled. ‘You’re making a scene, Ruy.’
‘Everyone knows she—’
‘Ruy.’
Borges’s lips quivered, but he went silent and walked back down the steps without another glance at de Almeida. Luc followed him with his eyes as Borges stalked past the platform, giving Horst Sachs a wide berth as he made towards a group of fliers parked a short walk away.