“Sera,” Florian said then. “It’s not Yanni aboard, nor Amy. Two passengers show the name Corain.”
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They kept the media away, used the restricted arrival lounge, and the handful of passengers that debarked and walked to that area were an older woman–Emily Latu, ReseuneAir security informed Florian, and Florian relayed it: Emily Latu, wife of Mikhail Corain, her adult children Rebecca Latu. Rebecca’s spouse Andrew Gaines, and three children; and Alexander Corain, spouse Morag Westfall, and babe in arms.
It was beyond a disappointment. It was ominous. Ari stood looking at the arrivals with a chill about her heart, then bestirred herself to walk toward Latu, as Florian indicated her to be, and to offer her hand. “Sera. Welcome to Reseune. I’m Ariane Emory.”
“Sera Emory.” Latu looked to be on the brink of tears. “My husband wanted us to come here. Councillor Schwartz said we’d be safe here.”
“You’re very welcome. Is your husband all right?”
“Yes,” Latu said, “yes.”
“And Yanni Schwartz?”
“As far as I know, he is. Lao’s dying. Nobody can find her Proxy. Defense is walled up in their Bureau, and it’s just scary. It’s scary in the city. My husband–my husband sent this.”
Latu offered a datastick. Ari took it, gave it to Catlin.
“He doesn’t want publicity about your being here,” she said. “Is that so?”
“He said–he said go ahead and talk to the media once we’re safe. That they’re trying to call Council into session. Without the Information Proxy they haven’t got a special measures quorum. They’re hoping to get hold of Edgerton. Everybody says he’s in the city–that Trade actually knows where he is.”
That was hopeful news, actually. There were legal maneuvers. Yanni was still trying that.
“What is the information you gave me?”
“My husband–my husband has a message for the city. For everybody. If you can get it out.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” she said. Not knowing what Corain had said, she wasn’t going to run Corain’s family past the media, not yet, not now. She said to Catlin, “Get cars for them. Get them up to Wing One, our old apartment.”
“Yes,” Catlin said, and talked to ReseuneSec.
It wasn’t the arrival she wanted. And when she played for herself, on her handheld, what Corain had sent, it took on a far, far more ominous character.
“This is Mikhail Corain, Councillor for Citizens, addressing you not from the Council chamber or from anywhere I wish to disclose at the moment. The murder of one Councillor of Defense and the disappearance of another has left no doubt of the intent of persons inside Defense to stage a coup and takeover of civilian government. Citizens of Union, your Council still exists. We have not given up our lawfully elected posts in favor of murderers and conspirators, nor will we step aside. We call on the Defense electorate to reject all orders from Vladislaw Khalid. Citizens calls for the arrest and detention of Vladislaw Khalid and for the immediate declaration of legitimate elections in the Bureau of Defense. Khalid’s acts are void of authority and Citizens calls on Khalid to vacate the premises of Defense and submit to arrest.”
It wasn’t a great speech. But it was, given the arrival of Corain’s family, an earnest one. She sent it out over the public address in Reseune itself, for starters. That, for all the department heads that had lately objected to the drills.
And she sent a copy to the media waiting at the airport. The plane had taken off, on its way to Moreyville before it returned to Novgorod.
But Mikhail Corain’s speech was headed for Novgorod much, much faster.
And she hoped to God she was doing the right thing–and that Corain and Yanni both were braced for the fallout from it. It was a declaration of civil war.
Sitting on it, however, even for a matter of hours– thatcould have consequences, too.
The Enemy wasn’t likely standing still, not if things were so bad the Council was sending relatives to safety.
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“Khalid’s acts are void of authority and Citizens calls on Khalid to vacate the premises of Defense and submit to arrest.”
“They got there,” Yanni muttered to Frank. “Thank God. Time to move.”
Frank used the house phone to talk to their guard, which occupied the downstairs of the hotel, simple signal, verbal code. The hotel was down to five other guests, two women who were visiting a relative in the city, and a family from Novgorod who’d suffered an apartment fire, and was keeping very, very quiet under the circumstances. Four businessmen, three from Svetlansk and another from Big Blue, had checked out this morning to catch the flight, the first in two days, that had gone up toward Moreyville and Reseune. Amy Carnath had reported her hotel mostly vacant, and the news said barges were stacking up in the port because dock and warehouse workers weren’t showing up and there was no room to offload. Local groceries reported shortages, while food piled up on barges that couldn’t find a berth.
That was the condition of the city, as bad a mess as it had ever been during the War. There were rumors, constantly denied in news reports, of Paxer sabotage directed at the precip towers that defended the city, and workers consequently reported sick rather than go into large exposed areas like the docks and warehouses, construction and transport. Companies temporarily shut down operations rather than pay the few workers that did show, and in some families, credit was running short. The city ombudsman had launched a court inquiry as to whether companies would owe back pay, and the city mayor had threatened arrest and confiscation in any shop jacking up prices for necessities like food, water, and medicines.
It was a damned mess, was what, and it was getting worse. Yanni put on his coat over a tee that covered a bulletproof vest, Frank wearing the same protection under his, and carrying the critical briefcase. They met their exterior guard outside, picked up two more at the lift–the two at the hotel room door would stay there to make sure the room staved secure–and they took the lift down to pick up four more guards at the lot occupying the lobby. They numbered more than before. The ones from ReseuneSec offices across town had come over, and the hotel was an armed camp–in case. Reseune promised the hotel that it would pick up the tab–and that kept management happy about ReseuneSec filling hotel rooms and supervising in the kitchens–the Carnath girl and her azi were, he hoped, on that plane that had carried Corain’s family. He didn’t want the kid involved any deeper, not today, and the last thing they needed was those two getting swept up in some operation–or worse–and needing him to get them out.
The ReseuneSec locals had a car–several cars–and the hotel airport bus. They used the bus for a decoy and transport for the other guards, and Yanni got into a car with two others and a lot of guns. Frank got into the seat beside him, and they started off with a speed more apt for Reseune’s lonely portside road than a Novgorod street. They whipped onto Central, and sped along about a kilometer toward the white tower that sprawled onto a block off Central, then squealed around a turn and up to the emergency entrance of the hospital, where the hotel bus met them.