‘Impeccable as always,’ Borodin countered warmly. Nobody was looking at the Vulture crew. Yet. ‘And I appreciate your efficiency in setting this meeting. I’m glad the Parthenon are treating this matter as seriously as we are.’
Idris gave Kris an odd look. ‘But they didn’t have much choice, surely? Now they know the Architects are back . . .’ But Kris was listening intently, a slight frown on her face.
‘Perhaps we could commence with the Oumaru wreck and its location, as it remains unaccounted for?’ Tact proposed. ‘As per your request, we’ve left any questions for the Vulture God’s crew to this meeting.’ Except for debriefing Solace, Idris guessed. Because surely they’d done that. Had Solace noted where they’d ditched the freighter’s corpse?
‘Actually,’ Borodin put in, sounding apologetic. ‘I have some preliminary business we need to clear up. Specifically, Hugh requires that the Parthenon repatriates our citizens currently held aboard this vessel.’
Kris twitched, and Olli leant towards her, demanding, ‘That us?’ in a whisper that could probably be heard across the room.
‘Menheer Borodin . . .’ Tact said flatly.
‘The Council understands entirely the circumstances under which they came into your hands,’ Borodin said, conciliatory now, spreading his hands a little. ‘We appreciate you letting our medical personnel aboard to give urgent care where required. But a swift repatriation really is necessary now. No doubt you’ve seen the tensions we’re facing planetside – and indeed across the human sphere. We very much want to avoid suggestions from certain elements that anything like a hostage situation is brewing up here.’ Again that reasonable smile, conveying I-too-can’t-believe-we-have-to-deal-with-this-nonsense.
‘Your citizens . . .?’ Tact echoed, profoundly unimpressed, and Kris murmured, ‘Welp, this has gone some places fast.’
‘Olian Timo, Keristina Soolin Almier and Idris Telemmier.’ Borodin was not looking at the crew, as though their names existed only as a bureaucratic exercise. ‘I am aware there is a Hannilambra aboard, operating under Accredited Commercial Traveller status. There is also a Delegate registered to the Second Assembly. They or their governments will need to make separate arrangements.’
Tact leant back a little. ‘And the Hegemonic regalia . . .?’
‘Obviously custody of the regalia is the primary concern, for all of us. I’ve just been asked to deal with this bookkeeping first and foremost, which will allow us all to avoid, as I said, any suggestion of Partheni duress.’ Borodin nodded very seriously.
‘Do we get a say?’ Kris’s voice vanished into the space and she looked up for the ceiling mic that apparently wasn’t on. A moment later there was a loud buzz of static. The Partheni delegation twitched, almost as one. Idris guessed Olli had patched into their electronics with her implants. Must have given their electronic security department kittens.
‘Why don’t you try again?’ the specialist said to Kris, her voice loud and clear over the speakers. ‘I don’t think they heard you.’ At least someone was enjoying themselves.
‘I said—’ Kris started, but Tact and Borodin virtually trod on each other’s words to drown them out. Idris heard, ‘If you’ll allow me, as your representative—’ from him, and ‘When you’re called upon to speak—’ from her.
‘I am my own representative,’ Kris stated. However, the collective diplomatic glower was too much for her and she subsided.
‘We would prefer to leave such matters to the addendum,’ Tact said firmly. ‘Menheer, I’ll be blunt. We were on the point of dispatching the regalia for analysis when your communiqué reached us. Because certain inferences were contained therein, concerning how such Partheni actions might be construed, we put this on hold. I had very much hoped that Hugh was here to propose cross-border scientific efforts. After all, this represents a chance for both the Parthenon and the Council of Human Interests to attain parity with the Essiel Hegemony in the field of safely transporting Originator relics. Delegate Trine has already volunteered to head up this research.’
‘That research is, of course, the main event,’ Borodin agreed smoothly. ‘But our people are being held against their will on a military vessel. Until this is resolved, we cannot be expected to enter such delicate negotiations.’
‘Ah crap,’ Idris said, low as he could to avoid it being picked up. ‘This is about me, isn’t it. Me and the damn Int Program.’