Surface Detail

“Timing is everything,” Veppers said, smiling. “The point is,” he said, sitting forward on his couch, towards Demeisen – who sensed Lededje tensing, and, without looking, put one arm out and behind him, across her chest, preventing her from moving – “that I’m on your side, sailor boy.” Veppers directed another perfectly insincere smile at the avatar, who this time did not reciprocate. “On my say-so,” Veppers continued, “if I’m around to give it, and enough ships get through to deliver the killer blows, all those nasty, horrible Hells will get wasted and all the poor tortured souls will be released from their torment.” Veppers tipped his head to one side, interrogatively. “So what we need from you is some sort of guarantee that you won’t interfere with any of this. Maybe you’ll even help the ships get through, or at least stop anybody else – the NR, say – from interfering with them.” Veppers glanced at Lededje before looking back to the avatar. “Deal?”

“Good grief, yes!” Demeisen said, reaching across the table to the Sichultian. “Deal!” He nodded vigorously. “Sorry for any earlier remarks! Nothing personal!” He kept his hand stuck out, and nodded at it. Veppers looked at Demeisen’s open, waiting hand.

“You’ll forgive me,” he told the avatar. “I prefer not to shake hands. One never knows where other people’s have been.”

“Totally understand,” Demeisen said, withdrawing his hand without any apparent self-consciousness.

“I have your word?” Veppers said, looking from Huen to Demeisen. “Both of you; I have your word, your personal and representational guarantee that I’ll come to no harm, yes?”

“Absolutely,” ambassador Huen said. “Given.”

“A deal is a fucking deal!” Demeisen agreed. “You’ll suffer no harm from me, I swear.” The avatar looked round at Lededje, sitting simmering on the couch behind him. “Or my little pal here!” He took her by the shoulders with one arm, shook her.

She looked into his eyes. “Liar,” she said softly.

Demeisen appeared not to hear. He sat back, grinning.

Veppers found some un-spilled infusion in an insulated pot, poured a little into his cup and sat back sipping it, gazing levelly at Lededje. He smiled at her, shrugged.

“Oh, come on, whoever you are. This is just how things are done. Those of us with advantage will always seek to increase it, and those wishing to make deals will always find somebody like me on the other side of the table. Who else would you expect?” Veppers gave a small, nasal laugh like a single half-snorted breath through his healing nose. “Life, frankly, is mostly meetings, young lady,” he told her. He favoured her with a more relaxed smile. “Lededje, I should say, if that really is you.” He frowned, looked at Huen. “Of course, if she really is who she says she is, she does rather belong to me.”

Huen shook her head. “No, she doesn’t,” she said.

Veppers blew unnecessarily on his infusion. “Really, my dear ambassador? That may have to be settled through the courts, I’m afraid.”

“No, it won’t,” Demeisen told him, grinning.

Veppers looked at Lededje. Before he could say whatever it was he had been going to say, Lededje said, “Your last words to me were, ‘I was supposed to appear in public this evening.’ Remember?”

Veppers’ smile faltered only briefly. “Were they now?” He glanced at Jasken, who quickly looked down. “How amazing.” He pulled an old-fashioned watch from one pocket. “Heavens, is that the time?”

“Those ships are just about upon us,” Huen said.

“I know,” Veppers said brightly. “And where better to be when they arrive than with the Culture ambassador, under the protection of a Culture warship?” He gestured from Huen to Demeisen, who nodded.

“Few hundred got through,” Demeisen said. “Inner System and Outer Planetary defences somewhat struggling to cope. Modicum of panic amongst the clued-up societal strata, thinking this might be The End. Masses happily ignorant. Danger will have passed by the time they find out about it.” Demeisen nodded, seemingly with approval. “Well,” he said, “apart from that second wave of ships, obviously. That might cause some excitement later.”

“Isn’t it about time you told them where their targets are?” Huen said.

Veppers appeared to consider this. “There are two waves,” he said.

“Sensing some rather premature glitterage from the city, there,” Demeisen muttered, waving towards the buildings across the park. The wall screen was cycling through some blank, hazed, static-filled channels now. The rest were still concentrating on graphics and talking heads.

Displays of sparks like daylight fireworks, and some thin beams of light directed straight up, seemed to be issuing from the summits of some of the higher skyscrapers in Ubruater’s Central Business District.

Huen looked sceptically at Demeisen. “‘Glitterage’?” she asked.

The avatar shrugged.