Read The Traders' War (Merchant Princes Omnibus 2) Online
Authors: Charles Stross
The Traders' War (Merchant Princes Omnibus 2) (64 page)
‘Okay. Then can you tell me where I am? Or when I’m going to be let out of this place, or what the hell is happening to my leg in there?’ Mike gestured loosely at the bulky
plastic brace and the cocoon of dressings. ‘It’s kind of disturbing . . .’
‘Damn.’ Eric glanced away. ‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘I’ll ask one of the medics to tell you. They told me your leg was broken, got chewed up pretty
badly – who the hell expected them to be using mantraps in this day and age?’
‘It’s not this day and age over there,’ Mike said dryly.
Eric laughed, a brief bark: ‘Okay, you got me! Listen, I figure the medics should give you the full rundown. What they told me is that you’ll be off your legs for a few weeks and you
won’t be running any marathons for the rest of this year, but you should make a full recovery. They were more worried about the infection you brought home, except it responds well to
penicillin, of all things. Something about there being no antibiotic resistance in the sample they cultured . . . anyway. You’re in a private wing of Northern Westchester. We’ve closed
it off to make it look like it’s under maintenance, the folks who’re seeing you are all cleared, there are guards on the front desk, and as soon as you’re ready to move
we’re going to send you home. Officially you’re on medical leave for the next month, renewed as long as the doctors think necessary. Unofficially, once I confirm this with Dr. James,
you’re going to be on station waiting for Iris Beckstein to get in touch. You can call in backup if you see fit – even a full surveillance team and SWAT backup – but from what
you’re telling me, she’s got tradecraft, which would make that a high-risk strategy. Think you’re up to it?’
‘I’ll have to be.’ Mike reached for the water again. ‘What a mess.’ ‘That’s what you get when you go back to running agents.’ Eric stood up.
‘Enough of that, I’ve got to go type all this up.’ He frowned. ‘Be seeing you . . .’
BEGIN TRANSCRIPT
(
Coldly
.) ‘You realize that if anyone else had done this, I’d have had them shot.’
‘Yes, dear: I was counting on it. This way, hopefully the auld bitches won’t be expecting it.’
‘Sky Father, give me patience! What did you think you were playing at? We’ve got a war on, in case you hadn’t noticed – ’
‘Oh, really? And I suppose the sky is a funny non-red color, too? I’m not playing, I’m deadly serious: this is more important than your little war.’
‘Damn it, woman! Can’t you leave your mother’s embroidery circle alone just this once?’
(
Exasperated sigh
.) ‘Who exactly do you think it was that started the war, brother?’
‘What – excuse me. You can’t be serious. Do you really expect me to believe that she’s in cahoots with Egon?’
‘Absolutely not! It would be beneath her dignity to be in cahoots with anyone below the rank of the Romish Pope-Emperor. But you know, she’s always been opposed to
the idea of marrying into the royal family, hasn’t she? ‘Marrying beneath our station,’ indeed. She set up this stupid business with Creon by way of Henryk, in order to
provoke Egon. And really, do you believe for a moment that Egon was a real threat to us, absent her maneuvering? She set Helge up as a target while she had me under her proxy’s thumb in
Niejwein. If she hadn’t overreached herself I’d still be stuck there.’
‘That’s . . . curiously plausible. Hmm. You said she overreached herself. Do you mean Hildegarde didn’t expect Egon to mount the putsch then and
there?’
‘I doubt it.’ (
Pause
.) ‘She wouldn’t have shown her precious nose at the betrothal if she thought it was going to be cut off by the hussars,
would she? But her intent was there. I know her schemes, the way her mind works. I think she meant to provoke Egon into doing something stupid, like the way he poisoned his younger brother all
those years ago. She doesn’t like Helge, as you might have noticed. Thinks I poisoned her mind against her. Which in turn makes Helge disposable, from my mother’s perspective. After
what she did to her sister, do you question her ruthlessness?’
‘All right.’ (
Pause
.) ‘Your mother’s embroidery circle dabbles in dangerous waters, and it is a bad idea to cross them. They’ve stirred up
a third of the nobility against us and Egon’s raiders are harrowing the countryside with fire and the sword – at least until we force him to group his army so that we can crush it
beneath our boot heel. As we shall, when the time comes, and make no mistake – they have carronades and musketry, but we have machine guns and radios. But, still. You have not yet
explained why you did that thing. You’d best try to explain it to me, and get your story straight – the council will be a much less receptive audience, sister.’
‘All right. You’re not going to like it, though. Between your incredibly foolish machinations and mother-dearest’s scheming, I’ve nearly lost my only
child. That’s not all I’ve lost, I’ll concede, but unlike some of our relatives, I hold her dear. If I can get her back, I will move heavens and underworld to do so.
That’s the first thing I’d like to remind you of. The second point is – and this had better not be advanced before the council, or we are all lost beyond redemption –
your niece knows about the insurance policy, but thanks to Henryk’s stupidity and mother-dearest’s venality, she’s on the outside. If you’d told me what bait you’d
used on her, I could have settled things, but oh no – ’
‘Henryk’s men got to her first. He knows – knew – too, you understand that?’
‘I’ve never understood why any of the old assholes should be allowed near the breeding program – ’
‘Stop and think about it. If we didn’t at least let them observe, they’d have assumed it’s a conspiracy against them. (As indeed it is, but not in such
crude terms.) Henryk’s participation was vital, to prevent a new civil war.’
‘Still. It’s a delicate matter, you used it as a carrot for Helge to get her teeth into, then you complain when the other donkey in the stable bites her?’
‘Enough. We can discuss might-have-beens some other time. But what of the American spy?’
‘If you must. When I found out who he was – at first he was an “injured Clansman”, you should remember – my first thought was to hang him from the
nearest available tree: but it turned out he’d already spoken to her. It was too late.’
‘Sky Father, you mean – ’
‘He was sent here to “talk to Miriam”. He didn’t know where she’d gone after the battle – my guess is, with a Lee family locket, she’s
somewhere in New Britain right now – but that’s not the point. She spoke to him. Let me assure you that hanging her ex-boyfriend would be exactly the most effective way to make her
turn traitor. She grew up in America, remember. In my opinion, the least damaging option was to spin him a line of disinformation, let his leg fester a bit, then send him back. If we’re
really lucky, we’ve got ourselves a back channel all the way to the White House. And if not – well, let’s just say, whoever debriefs him is going to get a usefully skewed view
of our politics.’
(
Pause
.) ‘That will probably keep the council from demanding your head.’
‘I know. Now let me draw you a diagram. The Americans have captured world-walkers and worked out how to make them serve. That means they know what they’re dealing
with. Helge – being Miriam – is on the run, she knows about the breeding program, and one of their agents has already tried to seduce her. Why haven’t you tried to kill
her?’
‘She’s my niece. You are not the only one who feels some residual loyalty, Patricia.’
‘Rubbish. There’s another reason, isn’t there? Is it something she knows? No? Oh. Something she did, no – the betrothal?’
‘Henryk wanted to ensure a fruitful marriage. He was in a hurry. He sent Dr. ven Hjalmar to see to her.’
‘Tell me you didn’t . . .’
‘
I
didn’t.
Henryk
did. With the queen mother’s connivance, of course. That’s the point, you see. It’s going to be a
world-walker.’
‘Oh no!’
‘Oh yes. It was always going to be a very short betrothal, just long enough for the pregnancy test to be confirmed. And, do you know something? Once we’ve put down
the pretender, all the surviving witnesses who were present at the palace will swear that it was, in fact, a lawful marriage ceremony, not just a betrothal.’
‘Holy mother of snakes! You’re telling me that with Egon out of the picture, she’s carrying the lawful heir to the throne?’
‘Yes. You did ask why I hadn’t issued a death warrant, didn’t you?’
(
Pause
.) ‘Angbard, I’ve really got to hand it to you: that is the most crazy, fucked-up, Machiavellian conspiracy I’ve heard of since
Watergate.’ (
Pause
.) ‘Does Hildegarde know?’
(
Pause
.) ‘You know, I really hadn’t thought about that.’
‘Because as soon as she finds out, she’s going to hit the roof. Who did you send after Helge?’
‘I sent Lady Brilliana after her. She’s to stop Helge if she shows signs of turning traitor – beyond that, she’s to try to bring her home. Ideally before
the pregnancy goes too far.’
‘Brilliana? That’s a good choice. Might even be enough, if we’re lucky.’
‘Enough? I hardly think Helge will be able to prevent her – ’
‘I meant, enough to stop the auld bitches’ assassins. If you’ll excuse me, Angbard, I have urgent arrangements to make. Is the prescription I asked for ready
yet?’
‘It’s in the outer office.’
(
Chuckle
.) ‘So you weren’t planning to kill me after all! Admit it!’
‘Don’t tempt me. You believe Hildegarde will try to kill Helge?’
‘Who said anything about Hildegarde? She’ll be pissed about me having a granddaughter to call my own, especially one who’s an heir and a world-walker, but
it’s still her lineage. No, what you’ve really got to worry about are the other members of the old ladies’ embroidery circle and poisoning society. Hmm. Then again, Helge
thinking she’s Miriam – thinking she’s an American woman – could really spoil all your plans.’
‘I hardly think that changes anything – ’
‘Really? You’re telling me you’ve never heard of
Roe v. Wade?
’
(
Pause
.) ‘Who?’
END TRANSCRIPT
Miriam found the journey uncomfortable. It wasn’t the compartment, for the seats were padded and the facilities adequate, but the lack of privacy. Of the eight places
– there were two bench seats that faced each other across the compartment – she and Erasmus occupied one side. The other was taken by the plump man in the loud coat, sitting beside the
window, and a pinch-faced woman of uncertain years who clutched her valise to her lap, her long fingers as double-jointed as the legs of a crane fly. When she wasn’t flickering suspicious
glances at the fellow in the check jacket, she parked her watery gaze on a spot fifteen centimeters behind Miriam’s head. Whenever the discomfort of being stared at got the better of her,
Miriam tried to stare right back – but the sight of the woman’s stringy gray hair sticking out from under the rim of her bonnet made her feel queasy.
It was also hot. Air-conditioning was an exotic, ammonia-powered rarity, as likely to poison you as to quell the heat. A vent on the ceiling channeled fresh air down through the compartment
while the train was moving, but it was a muggy, humid day and before long she felt sticky and uncomfortable. ‘We should have waited for the express,’ she murmured to Erasmus, provoking
a glare from Crane Fly Woman.
‘It arrives a few minutes later.’ He sighed. ‘Can’t be late for work, can I?’ He put a slight edge on his voice, a grating whine, and caught her eye with a sidelong
glance. The fat man rattled his newspaper again. He seemed to be concentrating on a word puzzle distantly related to a crossword, making notes in the margin with a pencil.
‘Never late for work, you.’ She tried to sound disapproving, to provide the shrewish counterpart to his henpecked act.
What’s going on?
She sniffed, and glanced out of
the window at the passing countryside.
Where did Erasmus go last night? Why were those guys tailing us? Was it him or me they were after?
The urge to ask him about the incident was a
near-irresistible itch, but one glance at the fellow travelers told her that any words they exchanged would be eavesdropped on and analyzed with vindictive relish.
Things improved after an hour. The train stopped at Bridgeport for ten minutes – a necessity, for only the first-class carriages had toilets – and as she stretched her legs on the
platform, Erasmus murmured: ‘The next compartment along is unoccupied. Shall we move?’
As the train moved off, Miriam kicked back at last, leaning against the wooden paneling beside the window. ‘What was that about? At the station.’ She prodded idly at an abandoned
newspaper on the bench seat opposite.
Erasmus looked at her from across the compartment. ‘I had to see a man last night. It seems somebody wanted to know who he was talking to, badly enough to set up a watch on the hotel and
tail all his contacts. They got slack: I spotted a watcher when I opened the curtains.’
‘Why didn’t they just move in and arrest you?’
‘You ask excellent questions.’ Erasmus looked worried. ‘It might be that if they were Polis, they didn’t want to risk a poison pill. You can interrogate people, but they
won’t always tell you what you want to know, and if they do, it may come too late. If you take six hours out to break a man, by the time you get him to spill his guts his own people will have
worked out that he’s been taken, and they won’t be home when you go looking for them.’
‘Oh.’ Her voice was very small.
Shouldn’t you have been expecting this?
She asked herself. Then she looked back at his eyes. ‘There’s more, isn’t
there?’
He nodded, reluctantly. ‘They didn’t smell like Polis.’ His expression was troubled. ‘There was something wrong about them. They looked like street thugs, backstairs men,
the kind your, ah, business rivals employed.’ The Lee family’s street fixers, in other words. ‘The Polis aren’t afraid to raise a hue and cry when their quarry breaks cover.
And the way they covered us was odd.’
