21
“You all right, sir?”
“Fine,” replied Vellerik, though he felt anything but.
Officer Kerreslaa turned his attention to Deputy Administrator Rasikaar, who was sitting on the other side of the table.
Vellerik was relieved to have made the meeting at all. Despite setting three separate alarms, he had slept through them all. The double and triple sessions had to end. In fact, it had to end completely. He pledged to himself he would destroy the box that night, kill the soarer: that way he couldn’t be tempted again.
Now that he was leaving earlier than planned, he’d expected it to get easier. But it was getting worse. He had begun to wonder if life away from it all with Seevarta would be so perfect after all. Would he really be able to forget everything? Start again?
There was an undeniable irony. Only now—when he was about to leave the service of The Domain—was he preoccupied by all he had seen and done.
Administrator Danysaan was last to arrive. As he sat down, Vellerik went to fetch himself some water from the machine in the corner. He drank it there; he didn’t want them to see his hands shaking—a side-effect that was noticeably worsening.
“I’ll keep this brief,” said Danysaan, elbows on the transparent table. “This is the first of our meetings to oversee planning for the visit of Viceroy Mennander. As you all know, the date has now been fixed and we have only twenty-two days until he arrives. I have assumed overall command for the day itself, while Captain Vellerik is responsible for security. Officer Kerreslaa will liaise with the mines to be visited, and Deputy Administrator Rasikaar is in charge of certain specifics. Firstly, I shall run through the schedule.”
Vellerik just about kept up. When Danysaan finished, the two junior men fired questions at him. Now they seemed to be talking about this ridiculous statue.
“Obviously, the terodite is not a problem,” said Rasikaar, “and apparently the engineers can manufacture a decent likeness. But blue diamonds? We’ve already ordered them, but they’ll arrive only a day or two before the tour. And the cost!”
“But it’s the Viceroy,” said Vellerik, mocking Talazeer’s previous words. “The Viceroy.”
Danysaan glared at him. “Captain, you may enjoy the privilege of disobeying the Count, but the rest of us do not. Now is as good a time as any to discuss the dispositions of your men. I suggest you and one of your senior officers accompany the party for the entire day.”
“No. I need to be with the troop. The Count has his Drellen, and the Viceroy has his own detail.”
“Have you mentioned this to him?”
“No, but I will. He was very insistent that an escort of my men accompany the shuttle in combat shells. The party are flying over every mine and visiting six locations, so that will be a rather hazardous and complicated operation. I will use three of my best men, but I will need to be with them.”
“Very well. And the arrangements at the location for the meal? Presumably you will coordinate this with Officer Kerreslaa?”
Vellerik offered a nod and leaned back in his seat. Danysaan had a few more questions for him, which he answered as cogently as he could. It was evident the other three were highly anxious about the Viceroy’s visit. Vellerik told himself he should at least ensure he did his part well; it would be his last duty as a soldier of The Domain.
When they eventually ran out of things to discuss, the Administrator concluded the meeting. Officer Kerreslaa still seemed very happy about the Kinassan operation and informed Vellerik there had also been no further trouble with the Batal. Vellerik was relieved to hear it; he wasn’t sure he had it in him to lead another massacre. Kerreslaa also asked about Triantaa. Vellerik told him that he would be back on duty within a week or so, possibly even in time for the visit.
Danysaan made it clear to the other two that they should leave, then took a seat beside Vellerik. He waited for the door to slide shut before speaking.
“If I may say so, Erasmer, you do not look well.”
“Nor do I feel it. Some… illness. The surgeon hasn’t been able to work out what it is. I will seek further help after I leave.”
“I saw the confirmation of your resignation. General Eddekal will be sorry to lose you. As will I. No reason was mentioned. I assume it is this condition?”
Vellerik nodded and finished the rest of his water.
Danysaan ran a finger down his neck. “It is obvious that relations between yourself and the Count have been strained. And that you are not particularly enthusiastic about your role in the Viceroy’s visit. But I must ask that you do your part. We all need it to go well.”
Vellerik almost snapped at him. But Danysaan was not the worst of his type—not by a long way—and Vellerik couldn’t blame him for being concerned.
“My men and I will do our duty. You needn’t worry about that. As long as Talazeer and the Viceroy keep a safe distance from the locals, there should be no danger.”
“Mine Fourteen is first on the itinerary, of course—where the Drellen killed that suicidal native. Perhaps the Count wishes to make a point.”
“Perhaps. I can’t claim to understand the working of that young man’s mind.”
Danysaan cast a look toward the door before continuing. “That night… with the girl. Those of us who were there know what we saw. If that information were to ever reach certain parties…”
“Administrator, I suggest you proceed no further along that line of thought. We both know that making an enemy of him is unlikely to end well. My advice—hope for the continued deterioration in the health of his father. If the Count fulfills his ambition, you will be rid of him for good.”
So far, recruitment was going well. Sadi had spoken to the two men who had arrived with her, and they were eager to help. She had decided not to approach Ralar—having changed her mind about how the woman might respond—but Cerrin had made solid progress. As well as Kannalin, she had approached an older Palanian women named Sirras.
Sirras had lost both her husband and son in an accident in the mine the previous year. Grief-stricken, she had vowed revenge. It was common knowledge that Dukas had dissuaded her from a plot to poison the Vitaari food. As soon as Cerrin said the words, Sirras gripped her hand and agreed to do whatever she could.
Another approach had not gone so well. Torrin was a young Echobe woman who had been captured the year before Cerrin. They had only ever spoken briefly, but Cerrin had seen her stand up to the Vitaari guards on several occasions. Torrin had been transferred to the night shift for a while but was now back in Block A. Cerrin had taken her aside while queuing for the elevator. The conversation seemed promising until she mentioned she was working with Sadi. Torrin simply walked away and refused to say any more to Cerrin or even look her in the eye.
This was just the type of thing Cerrin had feared. Torrin now knew they were up to something, but she was not with them. Cerrin was also concerned that it was Sadi’s involvement that had put Torrin off. What did she know?
“Has she gone in yet?” asked Kannalin.
“Just now.” Cerrin was waiting with him outside Block A. She couldn’t afford to leave it any longer, and he had agreed to help. They had to wait a while for the line to clear, as people entered their compartments and climbed the ladders.
“How are we going to handle her?” whispered Kannalin, head bowed. He was one of the few Echobe men taller than Cerrin. She supposed he was good-looking in his own way: a strong, broad face marked with several scars.
“Not sure. But we’re not leaving her alone until either she joins us or she swears to say nothing.”
It didn’t take long to find Torrin’s compartment, which was on the lower level. Unfortunately, she was not alone. Both women were about to take off their dirty overalls when they noticed they were being watched.
Cerrin smiled at the second woman. “I’d like a word with Torrin. Can you give us a minute?”
The woman—also Echobe but middle-aged—glanced at Torrin, who nodded her agreement. When the woman left, Cerrin sat on the edge of the compartment. Torrin came forward and sat with her legs crossed in front of her. Kannalin loomed over them.
“I have nothing to say to you.”
Like Torrin, Cerrin kept her voice down. “You did earlier. Then suddenly you walked off. Why?”
Torrin reached up and rubbed the large metal ring in her left ear. “If it were just you, I would help. But not with Palanians. Never.”
“That’s it? That’s why? Listen, we have to forget the old ways. We’re in this together—”
“It has nothing to do with the old ways. On the night shift, some of ours won’t even work with the Palanians. The Vitaari keep them separate just to avoid trouble. We’ve had six informers here. Five were Palanian.”
“But there’s been nothing like that for years.”
“How do you know? We only found out about those six because either someone worked it out or the Vitaari moved them on. Now suddenly this new lot arrive and you’re in with them straight away? Not me.”
“What if you wouldn’t have to work with them?”
“If they’re involved, I’m not.” Torrin pointed at the corridor. “Now go. And take your big friend. I’m not afraid of you, Cerrin.”
“I need your word—that what I told you goes no further. To anyone. Ever.”
“Wishing you hadn’t told me your plan?” A smile tugged at the edge of Torrin’s mouth. “Not very good at this, are you?”
She saw it coming and tried to pull away, but Cerrin was too quick for her.
She gripped Torrin’s collar and pulled her face in close. “I’m sorry you said no. I wish you’d change your mind. But if you don’t, know that I’m watching. If I even suspect you’ve opened your mouth, our next conversation will be a lot less pleasant. Do you understand me?”
Torrin tried to pull away, but Cerrin was too strong.
“Understand?”
When Torrin nodded, Cerrin let her go and stood up. She was about to leave when the woman spoke again:
“It’s not me you should worry about.”
Ignoring the curious looks, Cerrin turned and walked away, Kannalin beside her.
“Not good,” he said.
“No. And we still need another body.”
“Leave that to me.”
Sonus examined the components. He had begun work on the firing mechanism, starting with the spring, which would fire a piston into the faulty power cell. If his theories proved practicable, the cell would detonate and the resultant blast would launch the shrapnel-filled casing out of the barrel. He had already taken the spring apart in order to understand its workings. Now he had to reconfigure it as part of the weapon. But he was tired from a day’s work back in the mine; his mind was foggy and slow.
He would not use the data-pad tonight. He’d already spent countless hours reading the documentation and now felt he understood the basics of the combat shells. Recently, he’d been studying the controls, a wondrous but worryingly complex system involving sensors mounted on fingers and various screens. Though the guards never seemed to have much trouble controlling them, Sonus imagined they had been through hundreds of hours of training. He was determined to know every last sentence of the manual by heart but appreciated that no amount of preparation could compensate for actual experience. In truth, he reckoned he would do well to get one of the machines off the ground.
But what gave him hope was what he could do with that machine. He’d only had time for a cursory glance at the section detailing weapons and equipment, but if the armory had even half of it, there was almost no limit to the damage he could inflict. The targeting systems seemed simple by comparison with the controls, and the shells could be equipped with up to four weapon modules including assault cannons, disruptor beams, anti-personnel clusters, anti-structure missiles, flare-bursts, and incendiary bombs. As interesting were the defensive measures: deflector fields, anti-missile systems, armor plates, jamming nodes.
Once more, Sonus looked down at the components laid out on the floor. He was squatting behind a barrel, working under a weak light he didn’t have time to fix. There was still so much to do, but if he were to ever get close to the combat shells, he would need a weapon; and it would have to be lethal.
They had decided on a few rules. Firstly, everyone was to work in an order decided daily by Cerrin and Sadi (and passed on to all involved by Yarni). Secondly, no one should communicate during the hours of night unless there were an emergency. Thirdly, no one was to work longer than twenty minutes.
Cerrin was to dig last on the first night, and she did not sleep at all. Sadi began, followed by the two Palanian men, then Kannalin, then Sirras. Kannalin’s new prospect was his cousin, but they had decided as a group not to approach anyone else until they were up and running.
Cerrin was scared. Not for herself, but for the others and the possibility they might be discovered. She could not be absolutely certain of anyone other than Yarni, and Torrin’s warning had stayed with her. She could not see that the Vitaari would gain a great deal by going to the trouble of planting someone like Sadi, yet Torrin had seemed so sure she was not to be trusted. Cerrin remembered a time when her attitude toward the Palanians had been similar—as it was amongst many Echobe. She told herself she had to go with her instincts, and they told her Sadi was no liar.
When the time finally arrived, it was only eagerness to do her part that overcame her exhaustion. Assuming Sirras had finished her turn, she slipped out of the doorway and into the darkness. They had even discussed the dangers of leaving a visible trail on the ground, so she took an indirect route toward the containers.
Startled by a cough from Block B, she composed herself before moving on. The noise had probably come from someone too ill to work who had not yet been admitted to the infirmary. Cerrin reminded herself to be doubly careful on the way back; it was possible the Vitaari might send someone over.
She reached the gap and moved between the containers. There was a lot of drilling going on below, enough to cause a tremor in the walls of metal. The hole was covered by plastic sheeting: another of Sadi’s ideas. Cerrin pulled it away and stared down into the darkness.
It was surprisingly deep: she was impressed by what the others had achieved. Lying next to the hole was a shovel and a large bucket, which had been liberated from the latrine. Tied around a strut at the base of one of the containers was a rope that ran down into the hole. Attached to it were several loops to help the digger climb in and out. The level of the ground was already higher where the excavated earth had been dumped and then flattened. Sadi had been the first to point out that redistributing the waste would soon become a major issue; yet another problem they would have to solve.
Cerrin took a last look around. Even the high lights of the tower and the wall were obscured by the containers. Directly above, streaks of silvery cloud drifted past. She listened for a moment, but there was only the buzz of the drills to be heard.
She placed the shovel in the bucket, hung the bucket over her arm, and climbed down. Finding the loops with her feet in the darkness wasn’t easy, but she reached the bottom safely, estimating it was at least ten feet from the surface.
The shaft was four feet wide as agreed; they needed that much space to work. Cerrin put the bucket down in a corner and took out the shovel. Even the memory of tiredness was long gone. With a grim smile, she bent over and started digging.