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the rebellion began.
"I know where his apartment is," she says. "I don't know whether he ever made
it back there. The fighting blew up right around him, and he might be injured
or in prison somewhere.
"He was well last I saw him. Call his apartment. We'll need every drop of
plasm we can generate, and I want him back on the project. He can call on
unlimited manpower and as much computer time as he needs.
"Yes, Minister.
Constantine gives a frowning look at the door. "As for me, I must call Hilthi
and Parq and summon them here. I cannot fill this political vacuum forever,
for all that Sorya thinks I can.
"Good luck." She stands, makes the Sign of Karlo over his forehead. His look
softens.
"Thank you," he says, and makes his way out.
Aiah turns back to the room, the hushed people going about their work. Sorya
stands by the big table, a pair of gold-and-ivory headphones worn over her
peaked cap as she tries to reach someone in the Timocracy, and she glances at
the map with a complacent look as she puts a cigaret in her mouth and flicks
her platinum lighter. As the little flame brightens Aiah hears Sorya's words
again, Declare yourself triumvir. Or better yet, Metropolitan.
Aiah's hand flies to her mouth in shock.
Declare yourself triumvir. That's what this is about.
Aiah's blood turns chill.
Sorya has arranged it all somehow. The countercoup is, in some sense, hers.
Probably she did not conspire with Radeen and Gentri and Great-Uncle Rathmen,
no. But she had to have known at least some of their plans. She allowed
their coup to take place, careful to preserve only those people she needed.
She was able to save Constantine from assassination, but not Drumbeth. She
and certain loyal people were on hand in the Palace in order to respond.
All truces are temporary. Sorya's principal maxim.
How else could she advance, except in a world of chaos? Who needs a political
intelligence department in a time of peace and relaxed tension? But in a time
of madness and war, Sorya will become indispensable.
And when Constantine rises, Sorya will follow in his wake. Until, in the end,
she no longer needs him, and then . ..
Sorya's green eyes flicker across the room, and Aiah looks abruptly down at
the floor so that Sorya won't see the terrible knowledge behind her eyes. ...
What can she do? Aiah wonders. She bites her lip.
In the humming silence, no answer comes.
TWELVEAiah asks for a meeting with Constantine, but doesn't get one till the
next day, and then it turns out to be in a basement room, and with a swarm of
other people.
There is a conference room in Constantine's suite of offices, but its huge bay
window faces Lorkhin Island and any rocket batteries or artillery that might
soon be placed there, and so the meeting is held deep in the Palace, in a
lounge intended for maintenance workers. The furniture is cheap plastic and
the walls vibrate to the sound of generators and compressors in adjacent
rooms. Taped to the bare walls are pinups of seminude women, some faded with
age. Aiah even recognizes the Nimbus Twins, frequently seen cavorting on her
brothers' walls when she was growing up.
Constantine's department heads sit impatiently in the plastic chairs and
glance frequently at their watches. Constantine has called this meeting, and
he is late.
There is little conversation. Aiah feels her eyelids droop. Her abbreviated
sleep seems a long time ago.
And then the door booms open and Constantine enters. He greets everyone,
grins as he inspects the pinups, and then sits on a waiting plastic chair.
"I've just come from a meeting of the cabinet," he says. "Minister Faltheg
has been appointed triumvir and president in place of the late President
Drumbeth.
People glance at each other, brows raised. Few seem to have heard of Faltheg
till this moment. Aiah knows at least a little about him she'd studied the
cabinet members before making her presentation to them but knowing his
biography makes her even less certain what might qualify him to become a third
of the government.
Constantine sees the puzzled looks. "The former Minister for Economic
Development," he explains, "a banker and a worthy man." A devil's grin plucks
at his lips. "It was felt that an image of stability and continuity should be
projected. No more military people." His grin widens, and he gives his
subordinates a confiding wink. "And no controversial foreigners, either," he
adds. Low laughter sounds through the room.
Besides, Aiah thinks, Faltheg was in the building.
"I have been given the War portfolio as well as Resources," Constantine goes
on, "along with a brief to run this war, as long as it lasts, and
extraordinary powers to mobilize war, economic, and plasm resources. Because
I will not be able to give full attention to the Resources post, I am hereby
appointing Secretary Jayg to run the department day to day in all matters not
relating to the war." He nods to one of his people, who smiles nervously at
the news of this two-edged appointment.
Constantine turns his intent gold-flecked eyes on Aiah, and she feels her
nerves stammer. She knows that look by now.
"Miss Aiah," he says, "I am going to invest your department with extraordinary
powers to increase the government's plasm reserves by any and all means
necessary.
Aiah stares at him. She has had her fill of impossible jobs lately. "Sir
"Have you contacted Mr. Rohder?" Constantine asks.
"No. I've tried several times, but he's not answered." A wave of guilt floods
Aiah's veins, and she gnaws her lip, wondering if she'd brought Rohder to
Caraqui only to have him killed.
"Then you must reassemble Rohder's team," Constantine says, "and recruit more
members. I want that work to go forward with all possible speed.
"Sir " She wants to protest, to announce to everyone here that she's
unqualified, already overwhelmed; but Con-stantine's gaze is on her, and in
the end she just says, "What about budgeting and so forth? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl akte20.pev.pl
the rebellion began.
"I know where his apartment is," she says. "I don't know whether he ever made
it back there. The fighting blew up right around him, and he might be injured
or in prison somewhere.
"He was well last I saw him. Call his apartment. We'll need every drop of
plasm we can generate, and I want him back on the project. He can call on
unlimited manpower and as much computer time as he needs.
"Yes, Minister.
Constantine gives a frowning look at the door. "As for me, I must call Hilthi
and Parq and summon them here. I cannot fill this political vacuum forever,
for all that Sorya thinks I can.
"Good luck." She stands, makes the Sign of Karlo over his forehead. His look
softens.
"Thank you," he says, and makes his way out.
Aiah turns back to the room, the hushed people going about their work. Sorya
stands by the big table, a pair of gold-and-ivory headphones worn over her
peaked cap as she tries to reach someone in the Timocracy, and she glances at
the map with a complacent look as she puts a cigaret in her mouth and flicks
her platinum lighter. As the little flame brightens Aiah hears Sorya's words
again, Declare yourself triumvir. Or better yet, Metropolitan.
Aiah's hand flies to her mouth in shock.
Declare yourself triumvir. That's what this is about.
Aiah's blood turns chill.
Sorya has arranged it all somehow. The countercoup is, in some sense, hers.
Probably she did not conspire with Radeen and Gentri and Great-Uncle Rathmen,
no. But she had to have known at least some of their plans. She allowed
their coup to take place, careful to preserve only those people she needed.
She was able to save Constantine from assassination, but not Drumbeth. She
and certain loyal people were on hand in the Palace in order to respond.
All truces are temporary. Sorya's principal maxim.
How else could she advance, except in a world of chaos? Who needs a political
intelligence department in a time of peace and relaxed tension? But in a time
of madness and war, Sorya will become indispensable.
And when Constantine rises, Sorya will follow in his wake. Until, in the end,
she no longer needs him, and then . ..
Sorya's green eyes flicker across the room, and Aiah looks abruptly down at
the floor so that Sorya won't see the terrible knowledge behind her eyes. ...
What can she do? Aiah wonders. She bites her lip.
In the humming silence, no answer comes.
TWELVEAiah asks for a meeting with Constantine, but doesn't get one till the
next day, and then it turns out to be in a basement room, and with a swarm of
other people.
There is a conference room in Constantine's suite of offices, but its huge bay
window faces Lorkhin Island and any rocket batteries or artillery that might
soon be placed there, and so the meeting is held deep in the Palace, in a
lounge intended for maintenance workers. The furniture is cheap plastic and
the walls vibrate to the sound of generators and compressors in adjacent
rooms. Taped to the bare walls are pinups of seminude women, some faded with
age. Aiah even recognizes the Nimbus Twins, frequently seen cavorting on her
brothers' walls when she was growing up.
Constantine's department heads sit impatiently in the plastic chairs and
glance frequently at their watches. Constantine has called this meeting, and
he is late.
There is little conversation. Aiah feels her eyelids droop. Her abbreviated
sleep seems a long time ago.
And then the door booms open and Constantine enters. He greets everyone,
grins as he inspects the pinups, and then sits on a waiting plastic chair.
"I've just come from a meeting of the cabinet," he says. "Minister Faltheg
has been appointed triumvir and president in place of the late President
Drumbeth.
People glance at each other, brows raised. Few seem to have heard of Faltheg
till this moment. Aiah knows at least a little about him she'd studied the
cabinet members before making her presentation to them but knowing his
biography makes her even less certain what might qualify him to become a third
of the government.
Constantine sees the puzzled looks. "The former Minister for Economic
Development," he explains, "a banker and a worthy man." A devil's grin plucks
at his lips. "It was felt that an image of stability and continuity should be
projected. No more military people." His grin widens, and he gives his
subordinates a confiding wink. "And no controversial foreigners, either," he
adds. Low laughter sounds through the room.
Besides, Aiah thinks, Faltheg was in the building.
"I have been given the War portfolio as well as Resources," Constantine goes
on, "along with a brief to run this war, as long as it lasts, and
extraordinary powers to mobilize war, economic, and plasm resources. Because
I will not be able to give full attention to the Resources post, I am hereby
appointing Secretary Jayg to run the department day to day in all matters not
relating to the war." He nods to one of his people, who smiles nervously at
the news of this two-edged appointment.
Constantine turns his intent gold-flecked eyes on Aiah, and she feels her
nerves stammer. She knows that look by now.
"Miss Aiah," he says, "I am going to invest your department with extraordinary
powers to increase the government's plasm reserves by any and all means
necessary.
Aiah stares at him. She has had her fill of impossible jobs lately. "Sir
"Have you contacted Mr. Rohder?" Constantine asks.
"No. I've tried several times, but he's not answered." A wave of guilt floods
Aiah's veins, and she gnaws her lip, wondering if she'd brought Rohder to
Caraqui only to have him killed.
"Then you must reassemble Rohder's team," Constantine says, "and recruit more
members. I want that work to go forward with all possible speed.
"Sir " She wants to protest, to announce to everyone here that she's
unqualified, already overwhelmed; but Con-stantine's gaze is on her, and in
the end she just says, "What about budgeting and so forth? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]