‘Well,’ and he addressed the bivalve master, not the cyborg servant, ‘it is of course an honour to be in the presence. You’ll forgive me for not knowing the proper etiquette, but let’s take the awe and respect as read, if we could?’
Another basso rumble from the creature, joined by a tortured groan from the flayed Tothiat. Havaer was proud that his voice had been steady, devoid of either fear or awe. Before the Hiver could start their rigmarole again he added, ‘You were talking about something belonging to you that my people have no claim upon? I hope I’m not here to discuss that. I’m on Tarekuma for information. I came from Mordant House, as you say, because some spacers dragged a ship here recently – one that had been wrecked by Architects. I imagine you appreciate why that’s of interest to us.’
The Hiver took three precise steps at an angle to him, arms spread in a fan that mimicked the rayed figure on the thugs’ banners. ‘The drivers of destruction that have brought demise to worlds are of no interest here. We seek what’s ours. And let not Hugh or Mordant – nor the lords of the Hegemony itself – step in between us and our treasure.’
‘No interest?’ Havaer echoed. ‘The Architects’ return is of no interest?’ He looked around at the audience of thugs and monsters. ‘You wouldn’t raise an eyebrow if one of them arrived in the sky over Tarekuma?’
They still seemed profoundly unimpressed, which was either criminal sang froid par excellence or just utterly inward-looking stupidity. Unless this Aklu carted around its own Originator defence kit.
‘Well look, I don’t know what you’re seeking. But it doesn’t sound like it’s anything to do with us. I’m after bigger fish.’
The Unspeakable Aklu actually shifted slightly in its couch, and he saw the whole assemblage hinge and flex beneath its weight. The trio of red globe eyes spread wider, as though trying to find a crack through which to weigh his soul. A long, slow vibration built through the room until the walls shook, and everyone around him tensed. He saw hands go to knives, to guns . . . Heremon, the other Tothiat, stepped into a fighting stance and Havaer found himself matching her. He was ready to go down swinging, if that was all that was left to him. Died for the honour of Mordant House. Lousy thing to go on your permanent record.
‘Know this,’ the Hiver chimed, their bell-like voice clashing with the mood in the room. ‘Not all the nations of the worlds may stand between the Razor and its mark. We do not fear the tyranny of state nor brook the bite of laws. What we shall do is that which we decree.’
‘You’re not afraid of us, right, I get that.’ Goddamn gangster’s facing down the whole Colonial government, apparently, while hiding in a bomb shelter on an armpit world. ‘You’ll do what you need to, to get whatever it is that’s been taken from you. I get that. Like I say, it’s the prospect of Architects destroying whole worlds that has us all flustered.’ On the basis that he was as screwed as he was likely to get, he wagged a finger in the Hiver’s face. ‘You put that in a respectful way, you hear? Because I do not know the dance steps around here.’
To his surprise the golden head revolved, giving him a moment of smiling regard from their other, benevolent face before returning to the exaggerated frown. They paced through a half-dozen stylized attitudes, strutting before Aklu like a peacock – arms folding and fanning repeatedly. The Essiel thrummed and belched, its own myriad limbs fluttering like a debutante’s fan.
‘The compact is agreed, and reverence given,’ the Hiver announced. Then everyone relaxed, just like that. Everyone except the tortured Tothiat, anyway, who didn’t really have the option. Havaer didn’t like the sound of the words, which implied he’d just signed up to something – possibly as a representative of the entirety of Hugh and the Colonies – but that ship had left dock and gone into the void. He’d just have to live with whatever misunderstanding had been perpetrated. Maybe I agreed to give them back their drug shipment if we get to the Oumaru first. Well, we’ll see. Other heads would handle that. And that could actually happen, if someone felt the Broken Harvest would make a useful tool in some other Mordant House gambit. A back door into the Hegemony was no small thing, even one that might slam shut on your leg without warning.
*
Back at the local office, safely in orbit, he completed his report and fed back to Albas. It was her bailiwick and she probably needed to know.
‘An actual Essiel?’ She shook her head, already updating the records on her slate.