Peter Hamilton - Judas Unchained

“So you needn’t worry, this is definitely political advice I’m after,” she said as they sat on a long teak bench carved with antelope figures. She felt her stomach churn again, and clenched her throat. There was nothing she could do to stop the shiver running down her body.

“Are you all right?” Ramon asked, his face creased in genuine concern.

“Better shape than you.” She gave him a weak smile. “A lot better.” Her hand went to her mouth as her stomach rebelled again.

Ramon was studying her intently. He leaned in a little closer, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. “Dear God, you’re pregnant.”

“Yes.”

“I…That’s…Congratulations.”

“Thanks, Rammy.” She was worried she was going to start crying. Damn hormones.

“You’re really pregnant. He must be quite something. You didn’t even do that for me. Our child was grown in a womb tank.”

There was nothing she could do to stop it. The tears just came pouring out. “He’s dead,” she sobbed. “Really dead, Rammy. And it’s all my fault.”

“Dead?” His arms had gone around her, slipping easily into the comfy old position, her head on his shoulder, cheek pressed to his neck. “Are you talking about that boy at LA Galactic?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“So you’re punishing yourself like this.”

“No. It’s our baby, I want it to be safe. This way I can be sure.”

“I know you,” he said soothingly. “This is the penance you’ve given yourself.”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“He must have been very special.”

“He was. And I was stupid to ever get involved.” She drew back, and sniffed, wiping her hands across her eyes. “It’s all so goddamn complicated.”

“He was a young man with a cause he believed in. Everybody over a century old envies that. We might be able to buy youthful bodies with rejuvenation, but the integrity and intensity of youth, that is only ever a fading memory.”

“You don’t understand. He really was killed by the Starflyer.”

Ramon stiffened slightly, giving her a keen glance. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do. That’s why I’m here. Some of us are convinced that it does exist, that the Guardians are right.”

“Oh, Justine, no. You mustn’t do this. It’s a reaction to the loss, just like the pregnancy. You want to believe in what he believed.”

“It’s not just me, Rammy. A lot of us are of the same opinion; and we’re about to be joined by a very major player.”

“You should talk this through with your father. He’ll soon cut through all the bullshit. It’s what he does.”

“Gore believed before I did.”

“Gore believes this?”

“Yes.”

“Dear God. So this is what you wanted advice about?”

“Of course. Exactly how do I go about introducing the notion to the Senate that some of its own members are traitors to the human species?”

Ramon sat back, a slow amused smile spreading across his face. “Carefully. Very, very carefully. So this is the actual issue surrounding Paula Myo? The fight between you and the Halgarths.”

“Yes.”

“I see. Are you going to share any of the proof with me?”

“A lot of it is circumstantial. You have to be on the receiving end to appreciate it properly.” As she said it, she realized how weak it sounded. “I should have absolute proof in a couple of days. That’s why I’m preparing the groundwork now.”

“They accused Doi of being a Starflyer agent. The President herself.”

“She’s not.” Justine recalled the conversation she’d just had with Bradley Johansson. “That was part of a disinformation campaign to discredit the Guardians.”

He clicked his fingers. “Your interest in revisiting the Sorbonne Wood weekend. That’s a part of this as well.”

“We were being manipulated.”

“Preparing us for war. Yes, I see now. Just as the Guardians claim.”

“You say it with such skepticism.”

“And did you blindly follow your father’s belief?”

“No,” she admitted.

“Then kindly allow me to judge the facts for myself. And so far you have provided me with none.”

“If I do, if I show you proof that cannot be argued with, will you help me in the Senate?”

“Justine. Dearest of all my wives. I hate to see you suffer like this. First the shock of Thompson. Now the guilt of your lover being killed. You were there and think you are responsible.”

“I am responsible.”

“All this leaves you so emotionally vulnerable. In such times you cling to the wildest hope of redemption. People like the Guardians know how to exploit that. Cults have refined their recruitment operations down the centuries until they have become masters of extracting devotion and money from their damaged followers in exchange for their own vision of salvation.”

“Well, thank you, my darling; I would never have worked that out for myself.” She gave him an exasperated glare. “Rammy, I was dodging fortune hunters and investment shysters before your great-grandparents ever met. There is no money to be made from this. It is not a scam. It is not a warped religion. It is the most dangerous threat the human species has ever faced, and the most elusive.”

“I could never resist when you were cross with me.”

“Stop that!”

He pouted.

“Rammy, it doesn’t matter if you think I’ve gone right off the deep end with grief.” Her hand slipped down to her belly. “Given my state, that’s perfectly excusable. The least you could do is humor me. It’ll be good therapy. You do want me to recover, don’t you?”

“You diabolical woman. I can never win with you, can I?”

“Marriage was your victory. The greatest.”

“Arrgh, how I hate you.”

“Rammy, focus, please; if this proof does exist, will you help me?”

“I would have to see it before I even consider answering that question. And, Justine, it would have to be absolute proof. I need to see this Starflyer knocking up the Pope’s illegitimate underage daughter; the full in flagrante TSI recording. Nothing else will do. Even then I’m not guaranteeing anything.”

She grinned back at him. “Is she another tall blonde, then?”

“Evil woman!” He held her gently again. “Now I want you to promise me something.”

“What?”

“If this proof is not forthcoming, you will see someone who can help with the grief.”

“You’re kidding. A shrink? Me?”

His gaze remained steady. “An easy promise, surely? You know you are right, therefore you will never have to do it.”

“I taught you well, didn’t I?”

He gave a modest shrug. “Your word?”

“My word.”

“Thank you.” He bent forward and kissed her on the forehead. “And if you need someone there at the birth…”

“Oh, Rammy.” The tears were threatening to return. “It couldn’t be anyone else.”

***

Justine had just reached the elevators at the end of the Senate Hall’s long east wing when the alarm went off. She turned around to see doors opening all along the wide corridor, staffers looking around in puzzlement. A bright amber strobe was flashing above the door to Ramon DB’s suite of offices. “No,” she breathed. Shock turned her muscles to ice; she couldn’t move. It’s him! The assassin. He’s here.

“Priority call from Senator Ramon DB,” her e-butler told her.

“Authorized,” she gasped through tightened throat muscles.

“Justine.”

“Rammy! Rammy, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, shit, it hurts.”

“What does? Has he shot you?”

“Shot me? It’s my chest. Dear God. I hit my head when I fell. I can see blood.”

“Your chest?”

“Yes. Mitchan is trying to get me to drink water. Damn fool.”