‘I remember the girl,’ Aothori said.

Philious held up a hand. ‘Not a girl, not this time. As I recall the gifting, there were at least two other men – one was quite young.’

‘I’ll find them,’ Trevene said.

‘Good. Now, professor, what do you think these fibres could be? Do they make the Faller’s teekay stronger, perhaps?’

‘Anything is possible, sir. All we know is that it’s new.’

‘Which is what this institute is actually for: discovering information about Fallers.’ He gave Aothori a pointed look. ‘So I’m assuming, professor, your next step is to find out if this Knole Street Faller is unique, or the start of some new development.’

‘Yes, sir,’ the professor said.

‘Right then, Aothori, you’re to speak to the Marine Commandant. From now on, every Faller the regiments kill is to be brought here for further research. Understood? All of them, no exceptions – not just the human ones, but the animals as well. The professor and his colleagues will examine every brain to see if there are more fibres.’

‘Yes, father. What about Slvasta?’

‘He’s chosen politics as his arena, so that’s the arena where we’ll deal with him.’

8

It had rained for half the morning, leaving the city’s cobbles and bricks slicked and shining. Now, a noon sun seared down on the streets, creating long wisps of vapour as the residual rainwater evaporated. The humidity was intense, making Slvasta sweat just walking a few metres from the cab to the entrance doors of the Westergate Club. Inside the grand building on Mortemer Boulevard, the marble walls and pillars and floors calmly absorbed the heat, taking the air down to an altogether more reasonable temperature.

The doorman was frowning as Slvasta came up the steps. Then recognition kicked in, and the doorman suddenly smiled.

‘Captain Slvasta, sir! Welcome.’

Slvasta gave the man a small nod, half-embarrassed. This had been the way of it for the whole ten days since the Doncastor Station Stampede (as everyone now referred to it). He hadn’t realized at the time, of course, but the shared vision from everyone in Eynsham Square had been perceived clean across the city. The one-armed man, standing resolutely in front of a group of terrified school kids, aiming a pistol at the charge of rampaging neuts and fearsome mod-apes. Calmly picking off the mod-apes while his teekay lanced into the brains of neuts until the children were safe. A few other people stood with him, but no one noticed them. Pamphlets and gazettes alike had been effusive in praising the ‘Hero of Eynsham Square’.

‘Thank you,’ Slvasta said modestly.

A footman was waiting by the reception desk just inside. He bowed in greeting. ‘Colonel Gelasis is waiting for you in the Nevada suite,’ he said. ‘Please follow me. It’s such an honour to have you here.’

And how do you answer that and its variants twenty times a day?

The Nevada suite was a private wood-panelled room off the club’s second-floor dining hall. Colonel Gelasis was sitting at the head of its long polished table, wearing his uniform. But not full ceremonial dress, Slvasta saw; no silk sashes or spiky oversize medals, just discreet gold braid and a line of ribbons. For the colonel, that was almost being in civvies.

‘My dear chap.’ Colonel Gelasis rose and shook Slvasta’s hand enthusiastically. ‘So good to see you again. Thank you for coming.’

Slvasta inclined his head politely. ‘Thank you for inviting me.’ His first instinct when the runner arrived with the invitation had been to refuse – with a vulgar reply. The others had talked him out of it.

‘We need to know what they want,’ Bethaneve had said.

‘We need to know what they think you are,’ Coulan countered.

‘What I am?’

‘If they know you’re the true head of Democratic Unity.’

‘We are the party leaders,’ Slvasta said, almost desperately.

‘In here among ourselves, yes,’ Javier said. ‘But after Eynsham Square, you’re the public face.’

‘Like Bryan-Anthony?’ he grumped.

‘That’s not going to happen. Not to the Hero of—’

Eight days, and he was already cringing at the term.

Bethaneve stroked his cheek possessively. ‘They won’t kill you,’ she said. ‘They want to seduce you. That’s why your old boss wants to see you.’

‘So what do I tell them?’

Looking at Colonel Gelasis as they sat down, Slvasta couldn’t think of anyone less likely to be a political agent. The colonel had served the Captain’s Marines with distinction. The damage to his leg was cleverly fuzzed, and he could walk with just the slightest limp; only if he attempted to run was the injury apparent. But then that was probably why he’d been chosen as the one to make contact, someone Slvasta could relate to.

‘I have to tell you,’ Gelasis said, ‘we were all shocked by your resignation. Personally, I was very disappointed.’

‘Really?’ Slvasta wasn’t going to let him off that lightly. ‘They were going to crucify Arnice. He was going to be blamed for everything. If that’s the kind of loyalty the Meor regiment shows, then—’

‘That wasn’t the regiment, and you know it,’ Gelasis snapped immediately. ‘Some little prick working in the basement of the National Council thought he could shift the blame away from his masters. The Meor commandant would have had that charge revoked by the end of the week, that or the regiment would’ve marched on the Council. Arnice was one of their own, dammit, a brother officer. Politicians don’t get to blame the regiments for their stupidity and incompetence.’

‘It wasn’t just that,’ Slvasta mumbled, annoyed with himself for being put on the defensive. ‘That was just the last straw.’

‘Ha.’ Gelasis poured him some wine. ‘Paperwork, eh? Now that I do understand. The number of times I’ve been tempted to tell the Treasury maggots to stick their triplicate forms up their arse . . .’

‘One reform. Just one. That’s all I wanted. And it wasn’t exactly a tough one.’

‘Well, if it gives you any satisfaction, it’s going to happen now. And sharpish. Doncastor station was a lesson too close to home for some. I mean, I knew Fallers have a better control of mods, but that . . .’ He shook his head and took some wine. ‘Bad business. And you did a superb job protecting those children. Commendable. You know, recruitment in the city has nearly doubled in the last week. That’s all down to you.’

‘I’m a private citizen.’ Though it hadn’t escaped his notice that all the gazettes kept calling him Captain Slvasta.

‘That was a regimental officer I saw out there. Saving Bienvenido’s citizens from the Faller menace, without fear, totally selfless. You made me proud, my boy.’

‘What menace? I haven’t heard a damn thing about the nest since. You and I both know he couldn’t have been alone.’

Gelasis grimaced. ‘That’s the bloody Captain’s police. There hasn’t been a nest in Varlan for five centuries. They’re shit scared one slipped through somehow. There’s a lot of backstabbing going on up at the sheriff’s office right now. And to their credit, there’s a lot of hard searching going on, too. Right now, you can’t get into any government building without having a needle jabbed into your thumb to see the colour of your blood. They’ll find the others, don’t you worry. Failure simply cannot be tolerated, not when it comes to nests.’

‘Glad to hear it.’ Slvasta was well aware of the political pressure right now. Even the gazettes had been scathing about the authorities allowing a nest into Varlan.

Their soup was brought in by two waiters in starched white jackets – tomato and red petter with crusty bread still warm from the baking oven. Slvasta had to admit it did taste good; the Westergate Club wasn’t just about status.

‘Nice,’ he conceded.

‘My pleasure. Enjoy it while you can; the economy is going to take a real beating now. We’re all going to have to tighten our belts.’