The avatar’s eyes narrowed. “Okay,” it said. “So, to be clear: you’re happy that we head there directly, I make no mention of picking you up to anybody in your own regiment, and I can leave Ar Parinherm deactivated until we get there?”

Cossont nodded. “That all sounds fine to me.”

∞

oUe Mistake Not …

xMSV Pressure Drop

So there we are.

∞

Indeed. Ospin. Home of the Centralised Dataversities and the conglomerate of associated hangers-on. Something QiRia gave her? Too precious or too dangerous?

∞

Or something she made, perhaps, or recorded, which she’d thought to leave to posterity.

∞

If it’s a Culture artefact it might have some processing or ident tech embedded. Useful to have that pinned.

∞

Point.

∞

One way to find out. Try and get her to be more specific, though you are already the nearest asset we know of, so no way apparent of getting somebody there before you arrive.

∞

The avatar bowed. “We are now on our way to the Ospin System.”

“Brilliant.”

“And may I dispose of the trooper’s body?”

“Yes. Wait; how?”

“I thought I’d just leave it floating in space with the suit’s comms broadcasting a weak signal; that ought to attract a Gzilt ship before too long. Then he can be disposed of as you would normally think fit.”

Cossont nodded. “Fair enough. Also, do you have any food? I am fucking famished.”

“Septame, I am a mild-mannered man, I am known for my forbearance and general good humour, my tolerance and my indefatigable desire to give the other person the benefit of the doubt in all matters and at all times, but in all my wide and valuable experience in matters of inter-species diplomacy I have to say that even I, sir, even I am shocked to find my clients and – yes, my friends, my valued friends, for so they have become, and I am absolutely not ashamed to say it, no; in fact I am proud to, proud to say it, I am – the Liseiden legation being so roundly deceived and so ill-used is as appalling as it is shocking. Their good nature, their instinctive trust, their admiration for a species they have long looked up to and desired, why, to … to praise, to honour, indeed, by their emulation; all have been taken advantage of, in a most shameful and unbefitting way.”

“My dear Mierbeunes,” Banstegeyn said, putting one hand on the other man’s arm. “I hear everything you say. I do. I am as appalled as you are.”

“I doubt that, sir! I doubt that most severely!”

They sat in a tiny bower in the parliament building’s gardens. The Liseiden in their strange floating fish bowls had departed in a huff to their ship in orbit, leaving the humanoid Iwenick, Ambassador Mierbeunes, to speak on their behalf. Banstegeyn had listened as patiently as he could, but he was starting to wonder if the fellow was being paid by the word.