Even there I couldnt be free of Gladstone. Far across the room, a flatscreen TV showed the CEOs face with the blue-and-gold background she used for state broadcasts. Several of the other drinkers had gathered to watch. I heard snatches of the speech: to insure the safety of Hegemony citizens and cannot be allowed to endanger the safety of the Web or our allies in thus, I have authorized a full military response to
Turn that goddamned thing down! I was amazed to realize that it was me shouting. The patrons glowered over their shoulders, but they turned it down. I watched Gladstones mouth move a moment, and then I waved to the bartender for another double.
Sometime later, it might have been hours, I looked up from my drink to realize that there was someone sitting across from me in the dark booth. It took me a second, blinking, to recognize who it was in the dim light. For an instant my heart raced as I thought, Fanny, but then I blinked again and said, Lady Philomel.
She still wore the dark blue dress Id seen her in at breakfast. Somehow it seemed cut lower now. Her face and shoulders seemed to glow in the near-darkness. M. Severn, she said, her voice almost a whisper. Ive come to redeem your promise.
Promise? I waved the bartender over, but he did not respond. I frowned and looked at Diana Philomel. What promise?
To draw me, of course. Did you forget your promise at the party?
I snapped my fingers, but the insolent barkeep still did not deign to look my way. I did draw you, I said.
Yes, said Lady Philomel, but not all of me.
I sighed and drained the last of my Scotch. Drinking, I said.
Lady Philomel smiled. So I see.
I started to stand to go after the bartender, thought better of it, and sat back slowly onto the weathered wood of the bench. Armageddon, I said. Theyre playing with Armageddon. I looked at the woman carefully, squinting slightly to bring her into focus. Do you know that word, m'lady?
I dont believe he will serve you any more alcohol, she said. I have drinks at my place. You could have one while you draw.
I squinted again, craftily now. I might have had a few too many Scotches, but they hadnt impaired my awareness. Husband, I said.
Diana Philomel smiled again, and that too was radiant. Spending several days at Government House, she said, truly whispering now. He cant be far from the source of power at such an important time. Come, my vehicle is just outside.
I dont remember paying, but I assume I did. Or Lady Philomel did.
I dont remember her helping me outside, but I assume that someone did. Perhaps a chauffeur. I remember a man in gray tunic and trousers, remember leaning against him.
The EMV had a bubble top, polarized from the outside but quite transparent from where we sat in deep cushions and looked out. I counted one, two portals, and then we were out and away from the Concourse and gaining altitude above blue fields under a yellow sky.
Elaborate homes, made from some ebony wood, sat on hilltops surrounded by poppy fields and bronze lakes. Renaissance Vector? It was too difficult a puzzle to work on right then, so I laid my head against the bubble and decided to rest for a moment or two. Had to be rested for Lady Philomels portrait hell, hell.
The countryside passed below.
Five
Data from the telltales he had set around the encampment flickers on Kassads tactical display and whispers through his implant. It is a calculated risk to leave Weintraub and his daughter, Martin Silenus and the Consul sleeping there, unprotected except
for the automatics and an alarm. But then, Kassad seriously doubts whether he can stop the Shrike anyway. They are all goats, tethered, waiting. It is the woman, the phantom named Moneta, whom Kassad is determined to find before he dies.
The wind has continued to rise, and now it screams around Kassad, reducing normal visibility to zero and pelting his impact armor. The dunes glow with discharge, and miniature lightning crackles around his boots and legs as he strides to keep Lamias heat signature in clear view.
Information flows in from her open comlog. Hoyts closed channels reveal only that he is alive and moving.
Kassad passes under the outstretched wing of the Sphinx, feeling the weight invisible above him, hanging there like a great boot heel. Then he turns down the valley, seeing the Jade Tomb as an absence of heat in infrared, a cold outline. Hoyt is just entering the hemispherical opening; Lamia is twenty meters behind him. Nothing else moves in the valley. The telltales from the camp, hidden by night and storm behind Kassad, reveal Sol and the baby sleeping, the Consul lying awake but unmoving, nothing else within the perimeter.
Kassad slips the safety off on his weapon and moves forward quickly, his long legs taking great strides. He would give anything at that second to have access to a spottersat, his tactical channels complete, rather than have to deal with this partial picture of a fragmented situation.
He shrugs within his impact armor and keeps moving.