The Ascendant Stars - Michael Cobley [130]
‘I got yore note, Mr Nic.’
Nicodemus regarded Julia and Harry. ‘Because you’re such a distinctive pair – when you consider the contrasting data profiles – I asked Alfred along to foil anyone scanning on that basis. I am going to leave you for a short while – I’ve had minion-messages telling me that two of our VIPs are away from their chief residences and not responding to our exquisitely worded blandishments.’ He snapped his fingers and a datapad appeared in his hand. ‘Here’s the original list you gave, along with up-to-date pix of the exters they’re likely to be wearing, as well as their appointed times.’ He swivelled his gaze round to the yellow-garbed desk clerk. ‘I assume that the eightfold multi-occupancy is now in operation?’
The clerk nodded. ‘Exactly as you requested, sir.’
‘Better be,’ Nicodemus said to Julia, handing her the datapad. ‘So when they arrive, verify what they’re here to see, usher them through and Buttercup here will switch the door onto the next stratum, and so forth.’
Harry laughed suddenly. ‘So all eight of our Sino reps will be present in the auditorium yet unaware of each other.’
‘Give that AI a tune-playing, self-lighting cigar!’ Nicodemus cackled. ‘Right, time I wasn’t here.’ With that he stepped onto the walkway and a moment later was an upright blur zipping up and away. Harry looked at Julia.
‘I think that means that we’re in charge,’ he said.
Julia tapped the datapad. ‘And our first guest is due any moment.’
A little under a minute later a small group arrived in quick succession, three white-robed monks led by a cardinal in black. Julia quickly matched the exters to a name, Jirawat Pamang, over-councillor for the VietLao–ThaiCam co-territory. The cardinal drew near and in a low voice said:
‘I am here for the Amelia Borjan installation.’
She nodded, then gestured them towards the draped entrance.
‘Please proceed.’
He passed through, followed by his monk escort.
The next VIP was due four minutes later but was a no-show. The following three were punctual, arriving exactly five minutes apart. The sixth was a no-show and when the seventh likewise failed to appear Julia began to wish they’d agreed some method of contacting Nicodemus. She was about to ask their muscly companion, Alfred, if he knew of any way when she started to hear laughter and voices from beyond the drapes. Then came a man’s voice, shouting to be let back through. She looked at the yellow-clad clerk.
‘Can you turn this partition wall transparent but only for us?’
A nod, and the wall duly became see-through, like a misty veil. One of the VIPs, a man in the garb of a prosperous Victorian, was rapping the wall with a walking stick while groups of garishly dressed people ran around in the background, between and over the seats, pelting each other with fruit which burst into sprays of tiny flowers on impact.
‘Where did all these people come from?’ she said to the clerk. ‘There’s not supposed to be any other entrances … ’
There were more voices from behind. Turning, she saw more people starting to arrive by the walkway in a continuous stream. In moments there were a dozen, then a score, then more. At her side the imposing Alfred looked on impassively, arms crossed.
‘What are we going to do?’ she asked Harry.
‘Whatever it is, I think we’ll have to let our guests out,’ he said, pointing at the wall where all four of the VIPs were now demanding an exit from the auditorium. Paralysed with indecision, Julia stared at them, gradually coming to the sickening realisation that the entire complicated ruse had failed. But before she could speak to Harry the growing crowd surged towards the draped entrance and several people at the flank pushed her to the side, scarcely even apologising.
‘Julia,’ Harry shouted from the other side of the sudden mob. ‘Wait there – I’ll go around … ’
He broke off as three brightly dressed people in masks rushed at him from the side. He dodged the zazins’ tackles and launched himself up onto the crowd