‘Yes, he’s here, on-planet,’ Solace broke in. The interruption resulted in them losing the link for five whole minutes. Then they heard Anchortown station’s tremulous tones again and were patched back through.
‘Look, you’re not the only one who can do spy stuff, Patho,’ Olli asserted belligerently, apparently as part of a tirade that had been going on for some time.
Solace was gritting her teeth. ‘Gold City to Jenny Kite, repeat, over.’
‘Repeat what? Would you stop with the—’ and they lost Olli for another moment. Solace kept on patiently asking her to repeat until her voice phased back in.
‘。 . . I said that Kit hacked the Raptorid’s comms. All that shit on-planet means Uskaro’s not using encryption.’
‘Olli, we are losing you every few seconds. What do we need to know, over?’
‘Oh. Right.’ Idris pictured the specialist swallowing her annoyance. ‘Did you get the bit where I said they were coming for you?’
‘No,’ said Solace with some restraint. ‘No, I did not.’
‘They think you’re here to grab this Trine character,’ Olli said, static rising and falling behind her voice like surf on a shore. ‘They think you’re stealing Originator secrets or some damn thing. Were waiting in town for the Hiver to come to them, but you taking off for the dig kicked them into gear and they’re on their way after you. Maybe twenty hours behind you.’
Solace blinked, and Idris could see her doing the maths. He reckoned that meant Any time now, if Uskaro’s people had commandeered the same type of transport.
‘Olli, we need evac, over. We need to get out of here with Trine.’ Solace met Idris’s look. They both knew that wasn’t likely to happen, given local atmospheric conditions.
Olli apparently had a different take on things. ‘Well obviously,’ she said sharply. ‘Been working on it since I knew you were in the shit. Sit tight. I will be with you as soon as I’ve finished refitting the Joan’s shielding.’
‘Wait, what do you—’
‘Seriously, the longer we’re jawing here, the less time I’m spending saving your ass, Patho girl.’ And then Olli had cut the line, leaving Solace staring angrily at nothing.
The pair of them bundled outside and grabbed Kris. ‘We’re getting company,’ she announced to Trine, Robellin and the dig staff. ‘Armed Nativists from Anchortown, coming for Trine.’
Everyone stared at her, Kris included.
‘We’re going to need a defensive perimeter,’ she said. ‘Just as well the jungle’s just stubble close to the dig or . . .’
‘Solace, mate,’ Robellin put in awkwardly. ‘We’re . . . you do understand we’re not soldiers, right?’
She blinked at him.
‘You’re serious about this? There’s a squad of bloody gunmen on their way?’ he pressed.
‘So I’m told. They’ve tried to kill Trine before, right?’
Idris looked from face to ashen face. ‘Solace,’ he said hollowly, ‘we can’t stay here.’
‘It’s not the most defensible position,’ she agreed, not quite understanding his point. ‘But this is where Olli’ll come looking for us.’
‘If we stay here, people are going to get hurt. It’s not their fight. We’ve just screwed them over by turning up.’
‘Not entirely true, mate,’ Robellin said. ‘I mean, Trine’s one of ours, right, and they’d have come sooner or later, I reckon. But . . . beanbag shooters aren’t going to be a whole lot of fucking good if these clowns have real guns.’
‘They will.’ Solace stood very still, and Idris imagined her mind working like a military machine, breaking down the problem. How much weight did the Parthenon give to civilian lives, exactly? Colonial civilian lives, at that.
‘I hear vehicles . . .’ someone called, voice twisted in panic. ‘They’re coming!’
‘Kris, Idris, Trine,’ Solace said. ‘With me. We’re going to head up the trail, and then into the jungle. We’ll break their advance and then fall back. We’ll hope to lose them in the trees and circle back in time to meet the Joan, if Olli can get it down here. Compris?’
They nodded, although Idris felt it was anything but Compris. As plans went it was a series of unknowns tied together with string.
‘These guys, they’re likely Voyenni, house guards for a Magdan Boyarin,’ Kris told Robellin. ‘They’ll be all very pushy, arrogant . . . Probably won’t just go mad with bloodlust though. So give way and tug your forelocks. It’s us they’re after.’