Doctor Who_ Halflife - Mark Michalowski [88]
‘Stepped on them by accident?’ repeated Trove, rolling the words around his mouth as if they had a foul taste. ‘Not an easy thing to do with flycams, I wouldn’t have thought.’ He gave a theatrical sigh. And then, as if they hadn’t mattered at all, he waved a hand casually. ‘Oh well – easy come, easy go. I have plenty more.’ Trove inclined his head. ‘Sleep well, Your Highness.’
Javill narrowed his eyes, suspicious at Trove’s sudden change of tone.
Maybe he did have lots more of the insects. And what could he do, anyway? He nodded at Trove and turned away, heading for his rooms. He was the Imperator’s son, after all. No white-skinned, snooty offworlder was going to –
Javill gasped as a large, pale hand clamped itself across his mouth. He struggled and let out a moan, but Trove’s other arm gripped his arm and chest. Trove was so much stronger than he looked. In his ear – disturbingly close – Javill heard Trove’s voice.
‘You smug, arrogant little cretin,’ Trove hissed. ‘Do you know how much those things cost me? Do you know how important they are for my search here? And you’ve destroyed the last of them.’
Trove adjusted his grip so that one huge arm crushed Javill’s chest while the hand smothered his mouth. In the dim light, he saw the other hand rise up in front of him. Something silver and mechanical glittered in Trove’s fingers.
‘You wanted to see my toys, did you?’ said Trove. ‘Well here’s a very special one for you, boy. Take a good look at it.’
Javill struggled hopelessly as Trove brought his hand towards his face.
∗ ∗ ∗
159
Despite being unsure of the protocol involved in telling an Imperator that his wife and son sounded as though they were planning to have him poisoned at his birthday party, Trix went ahead and told Tannalis exactly that, watching his impassive face as she related the conversation she’d heard from Sensimi’s room. As a way of lamely safeguarding herself from execution for treason or sedition or whatever, she ended with: ‘Although, obviously, I might have misunderstood.’
Tannalis leaned back on his mountain of pillows, as if weighing up what manner of execution to demand for this traitorous offworlder. And then a broad, white smile cracked his face.
‘You, girl,’ he said, slapping the bed at his side vigorously, ‘are a tonic! You know that?’
Trix clenched her jaw, annoyed that, after all that, he just thought she was making it up.
‘Fine, your Imperial Excellence,’ she said coolly, standing up. ‘Fine. Just fine. I just thought you should know.’
‘Oh for Heaven’s sake girl, sit down! I believe you!’
Trix drew herself up, even more confused.
‘Those mercenaries have been gunning for my death for years,’ Tannalis said, still smiling, as though discussing some practical joke that his family had been planning. ‘The only reason they haven’t done anything before is because they’re too shit-scared to try it.’
‘So what’s changed? Sorry for being blunt, but. . . ’ She looked him up and down, measuredly.
‘But I’m getting on a bit? Ready to kick the bucket?’ His body jerked with laughter, and Trix found herself grinning along with him. ‘I know that. I’m not senile, girl – old, but not senile. Well, not so’s you’d notice.’ Trix sat back down on the bed as he leaned closer. ‘They know there’re things afoot, that’s what.
They’ve seen some of the government people a-coming and a-going, and it makes them nervous. And they’re damned right to be nervous.’ He paused and narrowed his eyes. ‘Are you in league with Trove?’ he asked sharply, and his tone suggested that, whether or not she was, he’d know instantly if she was lying.
‘Sorry,’ said Trix, recalling that Trove was the name he’d called when she’d first entered his room. ‘You’ve lost me. Trove? Who’s that?’
‘Mr Trove.’ He narrowed his eyes and tipped back his head. ‘You wouldn’t lie to an old man, would you?’
‘I might.’ She held her face for a moment and then smiled. ‘But I’m not.
Who’s Mr Trove when he’s at home?’
‘He’s another offworlder.