James steered Bache through the labyrinth of corridors and elevators that made up the sprawling edifice known as the Council Plaza. Being the primary centre of power for over sixteen hundred humanoid worlds meant the complex covered several square kilometres and more than half of downtown Kentro.
It had its own internal mini-rail system and James, struggling with the higher gravity, headed straight for the nearest terminal. Even Bache, who’d been away from the gravity on Dasos and the majority of GDA ships for some time now, noticed how unfit he had become. Luckily, they didn’t have to wait long as one of the small two-carriage trains soon whirred to a stop in front of them.
There were six others in the carriage and Bache eyed them all as they boarded, but none seemed remotely interested in them. He made sure they sat near a door and were able to keep an eye on the whole train. The Dasos-style coats they were wearing, hastily made up by Cleo, had snow hoods and face wraps for blizzard conditions. They kept these on so the cameras wouldn’t give them up.
‘Where’s our first port of call?’ asked Bache.
‘Chamber Foreman,’ replied James. ‘I have to book an emergency recitation.’
‘Have you done one before?’
‘No, but I’ve watched others do it.’
‘How quick will they get you in?’
‘Depends on the agenda. If there’s an all-day debate going on, it might not be until tomorrow.’
‘That would be a serious problem,’ said Bache. ‘The chances of avoiding these killers here overnight would be difficult. We’re not on Panemorfi and able to sneak off and sleep on a beach, we’re going to need a hotel and that means an electronic payment.’
‘I’ll put pressure on the Foreman.’
‘D’you want me to join you to add more weight to the accusations?’
‘Perhaps not – if there’s an arrest warrant out for you involving mass murder, it might not be prudent. After all, I have all the evidence uncovered so far on the data chip.’
Bache nodded, and looked up as the train swept into Chamber Terminal. They alighted and made their way to the main security checkpoint. Here, of course, they had to finally uncover their faces and show their identification, which included an iris scan. James went through first and then Bache, who held his breath, expecting alarms to sound and guards to come running. He was surprised when nothing happened and he entered to look for James. He found him sitting on the plinth of the statue of the ancients in the main reception hall with a grin on his face.
‘Pays to be dead sometimes, eh!’ said James. ‘They can’t have taken your credentials off the database yet.’
‘Or they let me in to trap me,’ Bache replied.
No sooner had he said it than a group of six uniformed men appeared from behind the statue and surrounded the two men.
‘Yes, gentlemen?’ said James, adopting a mildly puzzled expression and getting to his feet again.
‘Ambassador Dewey, Commander Loftt, you are both under arrest. If you’d like to come with us please,’ said the leader of the group. He was sporting ominous Skirmat Eagles sewn onto his tunic’s lower arms, which hadn’t gone unnoticed by Bache, who rolled his eyes, as he’d had dealings with these ignominious bastards before. The dreaded GDA galactic detectives, with almost god-like authority and resources, they were not who you wanted searching for you.
‘On whose authority and on what charge?’ James demanded.
‘Mine – mass murder, conspiracy to overthrow an alien government and most recently, the murder of Admiral Geltz.’
‘Geltz is dead?’ Bache exclaimed, giving James a worried glance. ‘When?’
‘Last evening.’
‘We weren’t even here then,’ said Bache.
‘No, of course you weren’t. Like you weren’t there when you destroyed the 28 and murdered its forty-seven thousand crew. But here you are, right at the scene of your latest crime.’
‘They’re worried,’ said Bache to James. ‘They’re cleaning house.’
‘The prisoners will not speak to each other, you will now come with me,’ the Skirmat said, nodding his head at the others, who grabbed Bache and James’s arms and began marching them towards a small door at the side of the hall.
‘What’s going on here?’ boomed a voice, behind them.
Everybody stopped and turned to find ex-GDA Council President Jamill Xutan and his entourage of bodyguards glowering at them.
Bache couldn’t help but notice the Skirmat flinch slightly before speaking.
‘These men are under arrest; it is no concern of yours.’
‘It is no concern of yours, what?’ barked Xutan.
‘Erm, it is no concern of yours, Mr President?’
‘Well done, son,’ he said sarcastically. ‘But unfortunately, it is my concern, because, you see, I invited these fine gentlemen here today as my guests. So, you will unhand them, turn around and quickly disappear back under whatever pile of excrement you recently oozed from.’
The Skirmat stared at Xutan, opened his mouth, then closed it again, before finally plucking up the courage to speak.
‘Mr Presiden—’
‘OFF-YOU-FUCK,’ bellowed Xutan, waving the detective away acerbically with one finger, his security detail inserting hands inside their coats and the sound of six laser weapons beeping as safeties were removed.
The men handling Bache and James capitulated first, released them, turned and walked away. The Skirmat admittedly held his ground initially, but finally caved to Xutan’s authority and turned, not before deliberately fixing eye contact with all of them, which Bache knew was just to say, This isn’t over.
‘Can I say, Mr President, I always did find your speech writing inspirational,’ said Bache, watching the Skirmat disappear through the small door with a sneer before slamming it shut.
‘Why, thank you, Commander,’ Xutan said. ‘And may I ask what the fuck is going on?’