Neal Asher - The Gabble

‘This hard evidence …?’ Salind said, moving round the treel spill.

‘Useless now of course. This weapon had her fingerprints and DNA traces on the handle.

It was found by the body of Aaron Dane. She’d blown off both his legs at the knee before beating him to death with the barrel. And so confident was she in her control of the judiciary, and certain police officials, she didn’t bother to get rid of the evidence. I had it all on record. .’

‘Well, it’ll all change with the arrival of Geronamid. Corruption tends to wither under AI governance.’

Garp made a rough hacking sound. It took a moment for Salind to realize it was a laugh.

Garp glanced sidewise at him. ‘I do not possess your faith in AI governance. Either the vote will be fixed to keep us out of the Polity or if we go in Soper will refocus her business interests. She’s wealthy enough now to play the upright citizen.’

‘Wouldn’t you say that what such people do is more about power than wealth?’

As they reached the gateway to the park, Garp did not immediately reply. They walked out onto the pavement alongside a street crammed with hydrocars. The air was humid with their exhausts.

‘Maybe, but Soper is not stupid enough to go up against the Polity. She’ll be a good citizen and her past will be dumped just as absolutely as mine. The amnesty will see to that.

Soper is sitting back in a no-lose position. If the Tronad prevents the Polity takeover they’re okay.

If they don’t, they get amnesty; the slate wiped clean, a new beginning.’

‘I can see how that would upset you.’

‘Masterly understatement.’

‘Perhaps we should begin at the beginning.’ Salind pointed to a roadside cafe. ‘Present your case to me and through me to the citizens of the Polity.’

Garp stopped at a crossing and before stepping out said, ‘We’ll need a private booth. My presence tends to put people off their lunch.’

Two five-metre-tall nacreous bull’s horns framed a shimmering meniscus eight metres across.

The shimmer broke, and somersaulting through it onto the black glass dais came a young man clad in a white slicksuit. His hair was blue, face painted.

‘Well, I’m sure we could call it something like: “He fought what he has become -

corruption”.’ said Salind.

Geoff, the staffer from the Tarjen offices, nodded, then made adjustments on the fullsense recorder he was holding — a device that could record with greater clarity than the hardware inside Salind’s skull. A tall woman with an external aug almost covering her head gave them both a dirty look from amid the crowd of reporters.

‘A rather flip way of treating his story. Garp was and is a good man,’ said Geoff.

Salind studied him for a moment. Tarjen employed its staffers from the local population.

It might be worth doing a few interviews.

‘I’m sure that’s true,’ said Salind. ‘But, though a good story, it’s a footnote to the main event. This.’ Salind gestured to the runcible portal as two Golem androids, without artificial skin, stepped through and aside as guards. He wondered what that was about. Their metal skeletons were grey, almost corroded in appearance — a highly unusual occurrence.

‘If this is what you’re here for, then shaddup and watch,’ said the woman.

‘Get your bloody great metal head out of the way, Merril,’ said the man behind her.

‘Is it my problem you’re a short-arse?’ she snapped back.

‘It’s certainly my problem that your pea-brain needs such a large augmentation.’

The bickering continued as next through the portal came four Earth monitors in full battledress. They were armoured and carried gas-system pulse assault rifles. They moved out on either side to stand by the Golem androids.

‘Bit OTT,’ said the man trying to see past Merril’s aug-shrouded head.

‘All show,’ said Merril. ‘The effective forces are already here.’

‘You what?’ said the man.

‘She means,’ said Salind, ‘that Geronamid’s agents have probably been arriving here and establishing themselves over the last few months if not years.’

Geoff gave him a look then returned his attention to his recorder.

‘I don’t need some kidrep from that Tarjen rag to explain my words,’ said Merril, without looking round. Salind ignored her and nodded to the waiting crowd of dignitaries.

‘Probably knows every one of their dirty little secrets. . Bloody hell, that’s a bit extravagant even for Geronamid.’

Those who had been watching the dignitaries, or subvocalizing commentaries, paused.

There came an intake of breath. Through the portal had come two voluptuous women clad as fantasy barbarians. This was not what drew the attention though. That they each held silver chain leashes connecting to the collar of a huge allosaur did cause a little consternation.

‘Someone tell me that’s an automaton and not from the fossil gene project,’ said the man behind Merril.

‘That’s an automaton and not from the fossil gene project,’ said Salind.

‘Thanks for that.’

Next came jugglers and street musicians, followed by a crowd who seemed to have just come from a party. The arrival lounge rapidly filled with a cacophony of sound and movement.

‘Well where the hell is Geronamid?’ asked Geoff, as he swept the area with the sensor heads of his recorder. Salind pointed to the lone acrobat who had come through first and was now doing back-flips in front of the increasingly irritated-looking allosaur.

‘Him usually,’ he said. ‘Though it’s difficult to tell. On Tarus Five Geronamid came through dispersed — memory units implanted in each of twelve circus clowns.’

The group of dignitaries began to make their way across the lounge, heading towards the acrobat.

‘Looks like I was right,’ said Salind. ‘They’ll have been told who to greet.’

The dignitaries had nearly reached the acrobat, who ceased his display and stood with his arms held out in greeting. There came a stuttering thud as of the sound of a lump of meat being thrown into a fan. The smile on the acrobat’s face disappeared along with his head. Brains and pieces of bone sprayed over the allosaur.

After a shocked pause someone started screaming.

‘Rail-gun,’ commented Merril and chaos broke loose. Police and security agents were running around shouting into personal com units. Salind saw one of these men lose his leg then fall to the ground, his expression puzzled. Salind was still watching and recording when Geoff grabbed him and dragged him to the floor.

‘Let me up! Let me the fuck up!’ Salind yelled. Eventually Geoff rolled away and Salind scrambled to his feet. He scanned quickly and saw where Merril and the rest of the vultures were heading. The two skinless androids had pinned someone to the floor. The Earth monitors kept the crowd from gathering around this individual, and the Banjer police encircled the acrobat’s remains.

‘Let me through! Let me through!’ yelled Salind, using his trusted elbows-and-knees technique to get to the forefront of the first crowd. When arrived there he recognized a slightly putrid smell, and seeing the pinned figure he felt a moment’s horrible glee.

‘Shit we’ve got a story,’ he said, then paused. He felt the crowd clearing from behind him.

A hot breath raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Turning, he looked straight into the tooth-filled mouth of the blood-spattered allosaur. It glanced aside at the dead acrobat then down at the prisoner. Salind quickly stepped aside.

‘Murderer,’ came the guttural accusation of the allosaur.

Garp glared up from the floor, his eye-irrigators working overtime. His eyes were blank white spheres overlaid with narrow gridlines.