Before humans came to Illuminatus, the tridelta area was a sandy marsh that flooded five or six times a year whenever the rivers rose, their torrents ripping out any vegetation that had rooted among the low saturated dunes since the last deluge. With the Commonwealth Council placing an absolute conservation order on the forests and jungles of Illuminatus, preventing any form of clearance, this was the one patch of land other than the mountains that had no trees. CST built a protective three-kilometer-wide groyne wall in the center, and constructed their planetary station amid the tropical heat and moisture. As more construction crews arrived, and the travel companies began to invest heavily, additional walls were built. Huge pumps drained and stabilized the boggy sand, new soil was either dredged out of the rivers or shipped in by train, raising the artificial island’s ground level. Foundations were sunk deep, and big high-rise blocks assembled. From that beginning, Tridelta City had mushroomed impressively, first outward, then when the limits of the flood marsh were consumed: upward.
Everywhere Adam looked he could see skyscrapers: towers of concrete, metal, composite, and glass producing a gothic landscape of sharp pinnacles rising out of the darker conurbation of low buildings. Most were a kilometer high, with the newer skyscrapers reaching even farther into the misted air. The Kinoki Tower, so far just a massive slender pyramid of scaffolding on the Logrosan’s east bank, was due to top out at three kilometers. Nearly every skyscraper had an airship docked to it; the taller ones had several at varying levels. The craft were all big, over two hundred meters long, with observation decks running the length of their undersides. None of them flew during the day; they just sat on the end of their docking gantry arms, rocking slightly in the misty gusts that swirled across the city.
“I deal in the underside of civilization,” the Agent said mournfully, keeping his back to Adam so he could face the window. “I look out at my city every day and I see how inspiringly high we can climb, yet in this room I also witness how low we can go as a species. I never involve myself personally, you understand, I merely survive by making arrangements. Out of this I live the life I want. I have the constant excitement which is the twin of danger; money, women, the thrill of being engaged at levels of politics and corporate enmity which the ordinary citizen doesn’t even know exists. Yet here you are, independent of all this, planning some act of violence on behalf of the Guardians of Selfhood. I find myself wondering if for once I should involve myself.”
“You want my advice: don’t. There’s a chance none of us will be coming back.”
“Honestly spoken. But my dilemma is this: you attacked the navy before, and now here we are, desperately waiting for the return of the starships. Did you know governments have been advised to put their defense systems on grade two alert? Grade one is when you switch them on. And the navy won’t say if it has had any success.”
“They won’t know until the ships return.”
“How wrong that is, and you know it. If the attack on Hell’s Gateway was successful, all the alien wormholes open in Commonwealth space would shut down. Yet they haven’t. Instead we’ve had the confidential warning to make ready. Now you appear, wanting troops inside of a week. I have to ask myself if this is coincidence. I will do many things for money, yet betraying my species is not one of them.”
“This is not betrayal, quite the opposite.”
“Your ideology claims that we are being manipulated by aliens. Is that right?”
Adam was rather surprised to find himself sweating despite the unobtrusive air-conditioning. He’d never considered that the Agent might be a problem, least of all on a moral level. For once he had no emergency exit plans. Stupid. “It is, but it’s not my ideology. I am not a Guardian, I work as their agent from time to time. And the navy didn’t exist when the Second Chance was attacked. Consider this: if it had been successfully destroyed, then there would have been no flight to trigger the barrier’s collapse.”
The Agent turned from the window and held out a shot glass. “If not then: later.” He smiled again. “I see your logic. Your word, then?”
“We’re on the same side.”
“For such tidings grown men weep.”
Adam took the shot glass and knocked back half of the liqueur. He was sure the burn was harder this time. “You take somebody’s word?”
“I pride myself on being an anachronism. Surprised? I know how you judge me. Think of this as a small retribution.”
“Cheers.” Adam finished the drink.
“Are you leaving us? I do truly believe this city to be safe from assault. Our weapons industry is small in comparison to that of a Big15, but we are very sophisticated.”
“One lone fortress holding fast against the barbarian horde? I don’t think that’s for me. Try accessing the records of the siege of Leningrad sometime and ask yourself who really won.”
“You’re going out in a blaze of glory?”
“No. That’s actually what we’re trying to prevent.”
“Bravo. And incidentally, one of the main reasons I accept your word is because I do know who you represent. What concerns me is that there are some strange people walking the darker streets of Tridelta these days.”
“Is that so?”
“Ah, mockery; the righteousness of fools everywhere. We are a microcosm of the Commonwealth, Señor Duanro. Look at us, and see yourself.”
“All right, I’m buying. What strange people?”
“That’s the thing. Despite all my efforts, and to be immodest for a moment, they are not inconsiderable; I cannot discover their allegiance. They certainly don’t belong to any Isolationist movement, nor a crime syndicate as far as I can determine. Yet they have money, enough to gain exclusivity in several of our more surreptitious clinics. Over the last few months many of my clients have been bounced off waiting lists so the affiliates of these new people can receive armament wetwiring and other services. Taken as a group, they are a considerable force.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
The Agent raised his glass in salute, and drained it in one.
Adam stood to leave. He couldn’t resist one last glance through the window. The Agent was right about Tridelta; it was about the most ethnically cosmopolitan city in the Commonwealth. That was why its government was so fractious and radically independent. Contempt for Commonwealth laws and hatred of Senate “interference” were always high on the agenda of any City Hall politician. It made the relocation of specific services and research laboratories to Illuminatus very attractive for companies who could take advantage of the more liberal laws. Its economy accelerated as fast as its population, an atmosphere in which the local crime syndicates thrived. Consternation in the Senate at this burgeoning “crime central” was another cause of antagonism. It had culminated seventy years ago in a local campaign for Isolation. But although they didn’t have much regard for Commonwealth laws, Tridelta’s population did have a lot of respect for Commonwealth cash. Illuminatus remained integrated.
“You’re very well connected with the political class here,” Adam said. “I wonder if I might ask a favor.”
“I’d be interested to hear it.”
“A lot of lifeboat projects have been started in the Commonwealth.”
“Yes, I caught the Michelangelo show last week. That young reporter did an excellent job. I always take pleasure in Dynasty members squirming in public.”
“If you hear of any companies on Illuminatus supplying the Sheldons with components for a lifeboat, I’d enjoy hearing about it.”
“That’s certainly a favor I’d be happy supplying. I will inquire for you.”
“Thank you. A pleasure, as always.”
Adam had been back at the Hotel Conomela for barely half an hour when Jenny McNowak called.