Timo entered at that point, in a damaged-looking walker frame that still had half its panels off. ‘You again,’ she observed.
‘Hi.’
She shook her head. ‘Just don’t take too long. I need to work in here.’ Then she left, apparently not at all interested in whatever he had to say. Kittering had scrambled up onto another chair and was perched there precariously.
Havaer found a smile hard to put off. ‘You know, I do get to go to embassy functions now and then,’ he told them, lowering himself into a seat and hearing the cheap plastic creak. ‘I know just the sort of well-dressed backs you’re trying to put out, with this sort of carnival. Make do and mend, right? Spacer diplomacy.’
Almier sent a complicit look towards Kittering, face too deadpan. And then the Hiver, Trine, came in with a tray. The aroma of something like biscuits gusted in with them, just off enough to suggest the Vulture’s food printer needed looking at. Trine bent low before Havaer, proffering the tray in a lattice of their chest-mounted arms.
‘As I am now apparently some manner of ambassador, my honoured guest, it is only appropriate that I extend what hospitality I may,’ the Hiver announced. Their translucent face bore an expression of snooty disdain. ‘Have a cookie.’
Havaer took one. ‘Please tell me you’ll put on this same show for Borodin and Tact. Let me have a mediotype of it, in fact. So I can watch them rupture their etiquette.’
‘Indubitably,’ Trine assured him. ‘Now, you’ll be wanting some manner of electronic privacy?’
‘Actually . . . this isn’t even gov business, not even spy business,’ Havaer said. ‘This is just me with my police hat on, trying to tie off an investigation. Just me trying to get my report square before I hand it in and go off the case.’
That had their attention. They’d only put on this act to put unwelcome visitors’ noses out of joint. It was only Telemmier who wasn’t enjoying their five minutes of fame.
‘Go ahead . . .’ Almier said cautiously.
‘Why’d you come to Berlenhof?’ he asked, flat out.
‘When we met, you said we should come here and—’ Almier began. Havaer was only looking at Telemmier but he answered her anyway.
‘I know I said you should come here. But even when I did, I thought why the hell would you? With a whole universe at your fingertips, why would you suddenly get a dose of the law-abiding and hand yourselves in? Since when did you people do anything anyone told you to without a contract?’
‘You’re excluding simple patriotism?’ the lawyer suggested.
‘You know what? I absolutely am,’ he agreed. ‘Menheer Telemmier, was it your decision?’
‘Yes.’ The Int was staring at his own toes.
‘So tell me why. Did you decide you wanted to do the right thing? Or was it chance, even, that you ended up here?’ Havaer pressed. ‘I want to understand.’
‘Berlenhof was like a beacon,’ came Telemmier’s quiet, worn voice. ‘Could see it from across the universe. The grave marker of the Architect we killed here.’ Solace put a hand on his shoulder, and he unconsciously covered it with his own. ‘And we were lost, by then. Too many jumps, too far out. But that marker I could follow— What?’
Havaer had jumped to his feet. They were all staring at him, these ragged diplomats, as though he was the strange one.
‘What is it?’ Almier pressed. ‘Agent Mundy?’
In his mind he heard the Int’s voice at the hearing, telling of the storm coming from the deeps, the great fleet of the Architects returning from the unthinkable vast places they had retreated to.
It was like a beacon . . .
‘You’ve been very helpful,’ he managed, dry-throated. Then, from sheer force of habit, he added, ‘We’ll be in touch.’
*
He did not, in fact, return to Borodin and Stoel to help them plan their negotiation. Instead it was time to call home. Chief Laery didn’t make him wait, which suggested either it was a slow day for spying or she was also having some worried thoughts about the whole business herself.
‘So the Int believes his story?’ she asked him.
‘For what it’s worth, yes. I mean we both know they do burn out, go scatty. And this one’s been around as long as any, aside from Saint Xav herself. But it’s not some scam they’re running, that’s for certain. Despite how the Oumaru turned out, he’s absolutely convinced.’
‘And?’