Iain Banks - Surface Detail

“Yes, sir.”

He watched Jasken as they passed over the roofs of the mansion. The cladding was dotted with scattered bits of flaming twigs and small branches which a few of the staff were running around trying to put out. Rather pointless, Veppers thought; the roof was fire-proof. Still, people needed to do something, he supposed.

The flier poised, ready to drop into the central courtyard of the house. “There isn’t anyone special to you that I don’t know about here, is there, Jasken?” Veppers asked. “On the estate, I mean. You’ve hidden it very well if there is.”

“No, sir,” Jasken said, as the flier descended into the empty heart of the torus-shaped building. “No one special.”

“Well, that’s as well.” Veppers glanced at the antique watch as the skids touched the flagstones of the courtyard and the craft settled. “We need to be back aboard in twenty-five minutes.” He pushed the seat restraints aside and stood. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll stay with you if you want,” Demeisen said.

“I don’t want,” Lededje told him. “Just go.”

“Right. Guess I’d better. Stuff to shoot.”

Ambassador Huen held up one hand. “Wait; you don’t think we need any extra protection when that second wave comes through?” she asked, looking sceptical.

“I — another bit of me — might have run them all down before they can get here,” Demeisen said. “I strongly suspect I’ll account for a few myself in passing on the way back to the main event out at Tsung. Plus the Inner System and Planetary boys will be better prepared and have longer this time; this lot look like they’re preparing to crash-stop. Which also implies greater accuracy from them. Should be safe enough.” He nodded towards the city, where a little smoke was drifting, lessening all the time, from the summits of some of the towers and skyscrapers. “Last resort, that’s what your glitterage is for.” He looked quizzically at the ambassador, performed a curtsy. “By your leave, ma’am.”

Huen nodded. “Thank you.”

“Pleasure.” Demeisen turned grinning to Lededje. He winked at her. “You’ll get over it.”

Then he was a silvery ovoid stood on its end. It vanished with a faint popping noise.

Lededje felt herself let out a breath.

Huen looked at the drone Olfes-Hresh, then closed her eyes for a moment as though tired. “Ah,” she said. “Finally we get the official version.” She looked at Lededje. “I’m told you are indeed Ms. Y’breq. In that case, I am glad to see you again, Lededje, though, given the circumstances of your death—”

“Murder,” Lededje said, standing and going to the window looking over the park to the city, her back to the other woman and the drone floating at the ambassador’s shoulder. Beyond the city, in the dimming evening light, more flashes lit up distant dark clouds that had not been there before.

“Murder, then,” Huen said. “The rest of what Demeisen alleged…”

“All true.”

Huen was silent for a few moments. “Then I am very sorry. I truly am, Lededje. I hope you realise we had little choice. To let Veppers go, I mean. And to treat with him.”

Lededje stared at the distant buildings, watching the little wisps of smoke die, her eyes full of tears. She shrugged, flapped one hand in what she hoped looked like a sort of dismissal. She didn’t trust herself to say anything.

In the reflection, she saw Huen turn her head fractionally towards the drone. “Olfes-Hresh,” the ambassador said, “tells me you are in possession of considerable funds, controlled by a card in one of your pockets. I was going to ask what you intended to do now, but…”

Then another silvery ovoid appeared, just where the one that had taken Demeisen had stood. It was gone in an instant, while Lededje was still turning round, and Demeisen was standing there again. Lededje almost yelped.

“Suddenly busy round here,” Demeisen said to Huen. He spared Lededje the briefest of nods. “You’ve more visitors. I’d better stick around for a few moments; say hi.”

Huen looked at the drone.

“The ex-LOU Me, I’m Counting , of the Ulterior,” Olfes-Hresh announced. “Just arrived.”

Two more silvery ellipsoids came and went, revealing two tall, pan-human but most certainly not Sichultian people: a man and an androgynous figure that looked slightly more female than male. The man was bald, and dressed in severe-looking dark clothes. Lededje recognised him, though he looked more alien than the last time they’d met. The other person wore a sort of suit, even more formal-looking, in grey.

“Prebeign-Frultesa Yime Leutze Nsokyi dam Volsh,” the drone announced, “and Av Himerance, of the ex-LOU Me, I’m Counting .”

“Ms. Y’breq,” Himerance said softly, bowing to her. “Good to see you again. Do you remember me?”

Lededje swallowed, wished she’d had time to dry her eyes, and did her best to smile. “I do. Good to see you, too.”

Himerance and Demeisen exchanged looks, then nods.

Demeisen stared at Yime Nsokyi, gaze flicking over her from boot sole to high collar. “You know,” he said, “I’m sure I’ve seen somebody else in Quietus wearing exactly the same clothes as you’re wearing now.”

“It’s called a uniform, Av Demeisen,” Yime told him patiently. “It is what we wear in Quietus.”

“No!”

“We feel it shows respect for those on whose behalf we work.”

“Really?” Demeisen looked thunderstruck. “Fuck me, I had no idea the dead could be so demanding.”

Yime Nsokyi smiled the tolerant smile of those long-used to such remarks and executed a sort of nodding-bow to Lededje. “Ms. Y’breq. I have come a long way to meet with you. Are you well?”

Lededje shook her head. “Not great.”

Demeisen clapped his hands. “Well, riotous fun though this is, I really need to be putting some heliopauses between me and here. See you all around. Ambassador.”

Huen held up one hand, delaying Demeisen, to his obvious annoyance. “Do you think Veppers told the truth earlier?” she asked. “When he implied he had yet to reveal the targets for this second wave of ships?”

“Of course not. Can I go now? I mean, I’m going to go, but may I with your permission, given we seem to be observing excruciatingly correct protocol?”

Huen smiled and gave a small nod.

There was just about a delay between Huen nodding and the silvery ellipsoid forming and collapsing. The popping noise was more of a bang this time. Huen saw Lededje’s shoulders relax again.

The girl shook her head, muttered, “Excuse me,” and went back to looking out of the window.

“Are we clear, Olf?” Huen asked the drone.

“We are, ma’am,” the machine told her.

“Ms. Nsokyi, Av Himerance,” the ambassador said. “To what do we owe the honour?”

“I have been sent by Quietus to check on Ms. Y’breq, as she is a recent reventee,” Yime Nsokyi said.

“And I promised to bring Ms. Nsokyi here,” Himerance said. “Though I also thought it would be pleasant to pay my respects to Ms. Y’breq.”

There was an anguished noise from near the window, where Lededje was staring at her reflection, her nose almost pressing against the glass, while the fingers of her right hand stabbed at the skin on the inside of her left wrist. They all looked.

She whirled round. “Now the fucking tat’s stopped working!” She looked round all of them, meeting mostly blank looks.

Huen sighed, looked at the drone. “Olfes, would you?”

“Calling.”

Demeisen’s image appeared, translucent, on the polished wooden floor, just bright enough to throw a reflection.

“ Now what?” the image said, waving its arms, gaze directed at Lededje. “I thought you couldn’t wait to get rid of me?”