of several of her colleagues. She had seen them smirking as this stranger flirted with her, bought her drinks and persuaded her to a quiet corner table. It amused them to see the harsh, plain, almost masculine Ursa apparently fall for the less-than-subtle approach of this man. She had been aware of them watching, passing close by, listening, eager to gather gossip for the next day at work. It had not concerned her.
They had spoken of trivial things, their conversation delving no deeper into politics than general comments about the unforgivable civil unrest in the outer suburbs and how important it was for the authorities to stamp hard on those responsible. Gradually her colleagues lost interest. By the time Ursa and the man she knew only as Richard stood up to leave the bar together, it raised nothing beyond a half-hearted smile and a whispered comment.
On the slow walk to the overland tram that would take her home, their conversation had switched to more serious matters, away from the curious attentions of others.
"The Council are now convinced that Suzex is involved," said her contact as they strolled beneath glowing street lamps.
"Any idea where he might surface in all this?"
"Not yet. There are some conflicting reports on that, but I've been told to advise you to look for anything that might indicate his presence here on Aks. It's very unlikely he'll ally himself with Earth, he was never that fond of it or its colonies. Aks, however, might give him some twisted satisfaction."
Ursa nodded. "I'll watch for it. Mayor Lane is becoming increasingly jumpy over this treaty business. If I were Suzex I'd work on him."
They had separated with a brief platonic kiss for the benefit of any onlookers.
Now, as the lights in her living room rose on her entry and then dimmed on her spoken command, she faced the situation she had always dreaded. She must break silence and make direct contact with the Council. This could not wait until her next meeting with Richard, and she had no way of finding him before then. The message to the Mayor, his reaction to it, had convinced her, sent a shudder of fear and excitement through her body. It had to be Suzex, here on Aks and conspiring with the Mayor. The Council must be told.
She crossed the carpeted floor of the living room quickly, stepping round the clutter of chairs and low table that indicated her lack of interest in interior design. At a further barked command, the window in the far wall faded to an opaque grey. The concealed panel in the wall slid open at her coded touch and she removed the communicator that lay within.
She hesitated. This was the first time she had done anything other than look at this communicator. She had never felt the need to directly contact the Council before, and the prospect made her hands tremble. It was dangerous. Such contacts, while secure from people listening-in, were not secure from general detection.
Taking a deep breath, trying desperately not to imagine Aksian scanners roaming the streets outside her door, she reached for the send button.
A noise outside, a strange shuffling, stopped her, finger poised almost touching the button. She strained to hear above the general background sounds of suburban life, traffic, doors opening and closing, a distant dog barking. Had she imagined it? Perhaps her nervousness about this communication was making her overcautious.
No. There it was again. A shuffling, scraping sound coming from the outer wall.
A cold block of fear settled heavily in her stomach.
She was pushing the communicator back behind the concealed panel when the explosion ripped a hole in the wall alongside the window, cracking the toughened glass, sending a shower of brick and plastic and glass cubes into the centre of the living room.
Ursa turned away instinctively, feeling the sharp stabs of pain as debris passed straight through her clothes and embedded itself in her flesh. The blast slammed her face first against the wall and she fell to
They had spoken of trivial things, their conversation delving no deeper into politics than general comments about the unforgivable civil unrest in the outer suburbs and how important it was for the authorities to stamp hard on those responsible. Gradually her colleagues lost interest. By the time Ursa and the man she knew only as Richard stood up to leave the bar together, it raised nothing beyond a half-hearted smile and a whispered comment.
On the slow walk to the overland tram that would take her home, their conversation had switched to more serious matters, away from the curious attentions of others.
"The Council are now convinced that Suzex is involved," said her contact as they strolled beneath glowing street lamps.
"Any idea where he might surface in all this?"
"Not yet. There are some conflicting reports on that, but I've been told to advise you to look for anything that might indicate his presence here on Aks. It's very unlikely he'll ally himself with Earth, he was never that fond of it or its colonies. Aks, however, might give him some twisted satisfaction."
Ursa nodded. "I'll watch for it. Mayor Lane is becoming increasingly jumpy over this treaty business. If I were Suzex I'd work on him."
They had separated with a brief platonic kiss for the benefit of any onlookers.
Now, as the lights in her living room rose on her entry and then dimmed on her spoken command, she faced the situation she had always dreaded. She must break silence and make direct contact with the Council. This could not wait until her next meeting with Richard, and she had no way of finding him before then. The message to the Mayor, his reaction to it, had convinced her, sent a shudder of fear and excitement through her body. It had to be Suzex, here on Aks and conspiring with the Mayor. The Council must be told.
She crossed the carpeted floor of the living room quickly, stepping round the clutter of chairs and low table that indicated her lack of interest in interior design. At a further barked command, the window in the far wall faded to an opaque grey. The concealed panel in the wall slid open at her coded touch and she removed the communicator that lay within.
She hesitated. This was the first time she had done anything other than look at this communicator. She had never felt the need to directly contact the Council before, and the prospect made her hands tremble. It was dangerous. Such contacts, while secure from people listening-in, were not secure from general detection.
Taking a deep breath, trying desperately not to imagine Aksian scanners roaming the streets outside her door, she reached for the send button.
A noise outside, a strange shuffling, stopped her, finger poised almost touching the button. She strained to hear above the general background sounds of suburban life, traffic, doors opening and closing, a distant dog barking. Had she imagined it? Perhaps her nervousness about this communication was making her overcautious.
No. There it was again. A shuffling, scraping sound coming from the outer wall.
A cold block of fear settled heavily in her stomach.
She was pushing the communicator back behind the concealed panel when the explosion ripped a hole in the wall alongside the window, cracking the toughened glass, sending a shower of brick and plastic and glass cubes into the centre of the living room.
Ursa turned away instinctively, feeling the sharp stabs of pain as debris passed straight through her clothes and embedded itself in her flesh. The blast slammed her face first against the wall and she fell to
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