Chaos Space - Marianne de Pierres [14]
‘Haven’t you heard?’ Her surprise had a mocking note to it. ‘Exterus is to be razed.’ She touched the block base and the marble crumbled off in her hand. ‘It has been injected with an industrial detrivore that will tunnel through it like a termite. In a matter of days it will fall. And it is only the first. Villon is next, then Averro.’
‘But that is outrageous!’ exclaimed Thales. ‘The Children of God are sacred.’ He glanced around the small group of candle-bearers, no more than ten of them. ‘Where is everyone else? Where is your assemblage?’
Magdalen pulled her veil up to cover her face again and her reply was muffled but unmistakable. ‘This is all there is.’
Thales left them and returned home, choosing to run up the stairs rather than take the lift. They mustn‘t harm The Children. The thought burned him. He must tell Rene. She would help extinguish the terrible heat in his chest.
The moud opened the front door but Rene’s remained locked.
‘Rene!’ He hammered on it. ‘Rene, we must talk. The Pre-Eminence is planning to desecrate The Children.’
Rene’s cool voice entered his head through the moud. Be quiet, Thales, I can hear you.
‘Open the door so I can see you.’
Your tone suggests that you are not in control of yourself. I would prefer to see you when you have calmed down.
‘Did you hear what I said? The Children—’
I know. My father has spoken of it.
‘Your father?’ Thales pushed his palms against his temples to suppress the building pressure. ‘You knew?’
It is only selected statues, Thales. Villon was an agitator. It will not be a significant loss.
Not be a significant loss. Rene’s last words shredded Thales’s self-control.
In one quick movement he overturned the table, dislodging papers and Rene’s favourite drinking cup. Then he tore the apartment’s aspect cube from its mounting and threw it against the wall. As it shattered he looked for something else to break. Anything, anything to relieve the unbearable frustration. He lifted a chair and hoisted it at the window.
Alambra, call the politic, Rene instructed.
The moud set off the house alarm.
Thales threw the chair down and fell to his knees. ‘Rene. Come out here,’ he shouted. ‘Moud, override that.’
The moud remained silent.
I am Alambra’s priority, Thales. She will obey me. I think that you need appropriate reflection time.
I don’t need reflection time. I need your appreciation. I need your prescience. I am being marginalised, shelved because of my ideas. What does that say about Scolar, Rene? What does that say about your father and the precious Pre-Eminence? To Thales’s chagrin his frustration turned to tears.
Behind him the outer door opened. He swung around to see the red sabres and brown robes of the politic guards as they swept into his view.
Rene, for Jain’s sake...
MIRA
‘Take us to the Rigel system,’ Rast badgered Mira again.
‘If help does not come to Araldis quickly, it will be too late. I must find an OLOSS representative first.’ Mira stayed resolute despite her churning stomach. Rast will not kill me. Not yet, she told herself.
They sat, all four of them, in the ship’s cucina, eating diverse fare: a freeze-dried porcini risotto for Mira, while Catchut was feeding Latourn soup between swallowing mouthfuls of rehydrated stew. Latourn had recovered from the worst of his injuries but his strength was slow in returning. He still could not walk without help.
Rast played with her pistol as though it was a favourite toy. But her expression was filled with suspicion. ‘What else is going on, Baronessa, to put you in such a hurry? Rigel is only two shifts away. A few extra weeks and you would be rid of us.’
Mira hesitated. Rast had sensed her tension; she could see no option but to tell the mercenary. ‘The biozoon’s contract with my clan has nearly expired. It may not choose to renew.’
Rast spat a mouthful of kranse back onto her plate. ‘What in fucking Crux do you mean by that?’
‘I mean . . . there was ... an agreement between Insignia and my ancestors. When the biozoon considers that agreement fulfilled, it may choose to do something