Joseph Lewis - Halcyon

Under way? Syfax glared out the window at the little anchor buoys and crab pot markers slowly gliding past them, rocking as the wake of the ferry rolled up beneath them. The harbor was well behind them already and the open water of the Atlanteen rippled darkly out to the horizon. “Where are we going?”

“The ferry is going up the Zemmour Canal to Nahiz.” Chaou smiled briefly. “I haven’t decided yet where you’re going. My associates would have wanted to throw you into the middle of the harbor, but they’re not here. I dislike killing, especially our own people. Obviously, using Hamuy was a poor decision on my part, from an ethical point of view. From a practical point of view, it seemed very reasonable to employ someone with his particular qualifications.” The woman sighed. “I pride myself on being an excellent judge of character and for knowing how to manage people. It’s necessary in diplomacy, naturally. But I must admit there is a certain class of people that I have some difficulty with. And Hamuy is of that class.”

Syfax gently massaged his temples with his right hand, then looked down at his left wrist, still in the ambassador’s grasp. “What the hell did you do to me?”

“Just a mild electric shock, nothing to worry about. Usually people just tense up when it happens, which is quite a convenient and understated way to respond to physical pain, especially in a public forum such as this. But the device is malfunctioning, thanks to your assault on my person this morning. You gave me quite a worry when you jerked about like that, knocking your head on the wall. You very nearly made a scene.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that.” Syfax straightened up and studied the crowded deck, but after a moment he gave up hunting for the ambassador’s confederates. She must have more muscle somewhere. His head throbbed, mostly behind his right eye. “I take it you still want me to work for you.”

“Oh, don’t make it sound so formal and dry. It’s more than a business arrangement or career advancement.” Chaou shook her head. “No, it’s much more than that. It’s an opportunity to serve your country in a more noble capacity, to right wrongs on a national scale, in ways that speak directly to the preservation of our way of life.”

“Why do you people always talk in riddles about the evils in society, and your epic solutions that only you can make happen?” Syfax turned his attention to the window and a seagull bobbing on the waves. “I cornered a bomber a few years ago. Pastoralist. He hated machines because they made people lazy. But he couldn’t just come out and say that. We spent three hours in the hot afternoon sun pointing guns at each other and negotiating for hostages, all while listening to him babble on and on about the nobility of labor, the divine calling to sweat and bleed, the purity of living at the edge of survival. Blah blah blah.”

“What happened to him?”

“I shot him.”

“How terrible for you. For everyone.”

“You’re telling me. I don’t like guns. Never did,” Syfax said. “Shooting people doesn’t sit right with me. There’s something weak about it. And I’m not a fan of other people shooting people either. I’m more of a knife man. Any idiot can pull a trigger. But it takes guts to slice a human being open right in front of you.”

Chaou winced. “Yes, well, to return to my original point, your bomber was trying to stop progress, and he was as effective as any person standing in front of a locomotive. I have no such interest in hindering or harming our people. Quite the opposite. I intend to see Marrakesh elevated to much greater heights of power in every sphere of human endeavor.”

Syfax scanned the shifting wavelets, watching for the next yacht, the next fishing boat, the next opportunity to catch someone’s eye and… and what? He frowned and tried to focus on finding Chaou’s backup in the crowd, but there were too many candidates. People sitting quietly by themselves, people chatting, people glancing nervously around, and at least four people who seemed to be staring directly at him at any given time, though two were sleepy-eyed mothers cradling babies in their arms.

“So why did you join the service, major? Was your father in law enforcement? Or were you the victim of some unfortunate crime and vowed to never let such a thing happen again?” Chaou eased her grip on Syfax’s wrist for a brief moment to pat his hand gently, then gripped it again. “You’d be surprised how many people answer one of those two things.”

“Actually, I started in the army, hoping to see some real action. But after a few years, that clearly wasn’t going to happen since we never seem to actually go to war with anyone. So I transferred into Security Section Two.” Syfax kept an even tone as he mentally flipped through the negotiator’s handbook. Keep her talking. Build a rapport. “The pay is good and the work is interesting. Sometimes more than others.”

“And that’s important to you? Being interested?”

“I guess so,” Syfax said. “Killing bad guys is good for the soul, but it helps to keep your head in the game too. Otherwise, after a while, you start to lose focus on what’s important.”

“You’re wrong.” Chaou stared out the window past him. “I feel as passionate about my ideals as I did forty years ago. If anything, the time has only served to sharpen my resolve.”

Syfax glanced down at the ambassador’s wired fingers and said, “I can see that. So what’s the story with your hand? Did you get tired of not having a bunch of wires under your skin? I can see how that might bug you.”

“Hm. You’ve been quite patient and polite about bringing it up, major.” Chaou smiled briefly. “But I’m not going to tell you anything very useful. Suffice it to say, my organization has many enterprises, including medical and scientific research. The device implanted in my arm, well, you’ve felt its effects. There’s nothing more to say about it.”

Syfax’s basic training in electricity had not held his attention as well as weapons, tactics, and criminal psychology, but he managed to dredge up a few facts. “I suppose it’s insulated to protect you from being electrocuted all the time?”

“Yes, of course,” she said. “No, the breakthrough being tested was something else entirely. Something new, at the time.”

“Yeah, sure.” What would someone want to test something inside a person’s body? “How long have you had it?”

“Several years. It’s not uncomfortable, actually. But my associate has moved on to bigger and better things since then, and this little device would look like a child’s toy compared to her latest projects.”

“Such as?”

Chaou sighed. “I suppose it would be hoping too much to expect you to stop trying to interrogate me. It is your duty, of course. I respect that, more than you know. You provide a vital service for our people, protecting their lives. I can’t tell you how much I regret everything that happened last night. I had a plan, of course. A very good plan.”

“Right.” Syfax chuckled. They always have a plan. “So what went wrong?”

“My informants were misinformed. Something arrived in Tingis that was not supposed to be there. The plan fell apart and I did not have a contingency. I told Hamuy to make certain no one left Tingis after I departed in the airship. I never thought he would destroy whole engines or airships, or kill all of those innocent travelers.” Chaou swallowed. “The whole night was a dreadful fiasco and I take full responsibility for it. But good people died and now I must continue on or else those deaths are meaningless.”

“Continue on to do what?”

Chaou grimaced and shook her head.

So, she’s a patriotic lunatic, she’s recruiting, and she’s not a big fan of the queen. Delusions of grandeur and dreams of regicide. Always nice when they stick to the classics. Syfax glanced out the window to see the ferry was just entering the mouth of the Zemmour Canal and bearing east to Nahiz. Well, that’s enough of this crap. Time to go.