"Probably come for the docking charges," Gant suggested to Cento.
Cormac glanced at Gant. "Who are these?" he asked.
"Could be anyone," the Sparkind replied. "There's about a hundred private armies here employed by various corporations. More likely though that these are Elysium Security — each corporation provides a percentage of its own forces for overall security."
"Got some serious weaponry," noted Cormac, indicating the drones.
"They are ship drones built for Earth Central Security," said Aiden.
Cormac turned to the Golem. "Any communication?"
"They are somewhat… terse," Aiden replied.
The drones reached them first and floated out to either side of them, turning to the horizontal as they did so, training their weapons on the four of them. Each drone, Cormac noted, possessed a missile-launcher and an APW — antiphoton weapon — obviously whoever had sent this welcoming committee was taking no chances. The soldiers halted smartly while the two leaders advanced and came to a halt five metres from Cormac. The one on the right, who was bald, quite obviously boosted, and had skin the colour of orange cheese, carefully surveyed Cormac and his companions.
"Welcome to Elysium." he said, at last.
"Interesting that you chose those words," said Cormac, eyeing the drones. "I don't feel particularly welcome."
"We are always cautious here," the man replied. "And we become especially cautious when paid a visit by an ECS dreadnought. What business do you have here?"
The man's companion, who was shorter, not so heavily built, and had long black hair spilling across his shoulders, showed a set of chrome teeth in a grin. "Lons here is always a little blunt," he said. "But you must understand that many living here have interests that they wish to preserve." He moved forwards, with Lons trailing a step behind him, and held out his hand to Cormac. "Alvor," he said, clasping Cormac's hand in a sweaty grip.
"Ian Cormac."
Both men's expressions abruptly hardened, but Alvor continued: "I'm surprised you would want to come here. But now that you are here, if you would accompany us?" He turned and gestured towards the drop-shafts.
"I think you are misconstruing the purpose of my visit. I'm here solely because Elysium is the only place on my present route to possess a runcible facility," said Cormac.
"Unfortunately I am not the one this needs to be explained to." Alvor was now surveying Cormac's companions. He went on, "Also, because of certain security considerations, your friends will unfortunately have to remain here meanwhile."
Cormac raised his hand to silence Gant, who had been about to protest, and asked, "Who do I need to explain this to, and what are these 'security' considerations you mention?"
Lons replied with, "We've no objection to Golem here, except of course when they are Golem Twenty-sevens disembarking from an ECS dreadnought. Then we become suspicious."
Alvor shrugged. "Dreyden is understandably nervous of such company."
"Dreyden?" Cormac asked.
Alvor stared at him for a long moment before going on, "Our employer has been the de facto ruler of Elysium for some years now — of which ECS must be well aware?"
"Well, I'm not," said Cormac. "As I said to you, my business here relates only to this place's location — nothing else — and I can't be expected to remember the name of every tinpot autocrat, since hundreds of them rise and fall in every decade around the edge of the Polity." The two men frowned at this, but Cormac continued. "I'll now accompany you to see this Dreyden, but meanwhile my companions will continue with the real purpose of our visit here."
"Are you sure about that, Agent?" Gant asked him.
Cormac glanced at him. "If I'm not back here with you when you're ready to leave, and if I haven't communicated with you… then you'll know what to do." He glanced coldly at the two grey-suited men. "I'm sure Captain Tomalon would be more than willing to give his weapons a test run."
"Unfortunately Dreyden does not want ECS Golem running about this place unsupervised, so they must remain here," said Alvor.
"And how do you intend to make them remain here?" Cormac asked.
Alvor glanced at the two huge drones, and winced as if it was painful for him to even mention their presence.
"Let me put it another way," Cormac went on. "Is this Dreyden prepared to murder ECS Golem androids out of no justification other than his paranoia? When all they will be doing is going over to the runcible facility to await someone's arrival?"
Alvor put his fingers against his aug, as he obviously received further instruction. "The arrival of whom?" he asked after a moment.
"Not that it concerns you greatly, but a Polity scientist, that's all," Cormac replied, starting to feel irritated now.
Smoothly Alvor went on, "If that is their only purpose here, then you'll have no objection to them being accompanied, then?"
"No objection, just so long as there are no more delays," said Cormac. Then, to his three companions, "No screw-ups. This place is for another day."
Cormac waved a hand in the direction of the drop-shafts, and began heading in towards them. The two grey-suits fell in beside him, and the attendant soldiers parted before him, then closed behind.
Upon reaching the shafts, Cormac glanced back to note that the two drones had remained with the Golem — obviously human soldiers were not considered sufficient accompaniment for those three. Alvor punched a code into the touch-console beside one of the shafts, then stepped out to where the irised gravity field wafted him upwards. Cormac quickly followed. As he was dragged up he felt that familiar slight tugging each time he passed a floor and, counting thirty of such sensations, realized he must be nearing the top of the station. At one point there was a pause in his ascent, before he passed 'Restricted Area' signs, and thereafter the sides of the shaft were striped orange and black — the universal colours of danger. At the required level, he stepped out behind Alvor into a vestibule before twin wooden doors. The floor of this space was slabbed with alternate white and translucent-red stones — probably of alabaster and artificial ruby. Suspended from the ceiling by ominously heavy cables was a standard design of security drone, but with an APW bolted underneath. It observed him with matt-black visual receptors and turned to track his progress as he followed Alvor to the door. Glancing back, he saw that only Lons had joined them — the soldiers having departed the shaft somewhere below. No doubt Dreyden considered them unnecessary now Cormac was within his internal security system.
At the doors, Alvor turned and held out his hand. "Your weapons."
Cormac pulled his thin-gun and tossed it across to the man. As Alvor caught and inspected this, Cormac unstrapped his shuriken holster, then handed it across. With raised eyebrows Alvor studied the weapon before pocketing it.
"Interesting," he said, before turning to lead the way in.
Beyond the doors was a glass lock, and through this Cormac saw a huge biodome with a roof constructed from hexagonal panes of chainglass, through which sunlight was reflected from a pylon-mounted mirror on top of the station. Following Alvor through the glass door when it hissed open, he found himself beginning to sweat in the humid atmosphere inside the dome. All around grew tropical plants: cycads, tree ferns, orchids, and other adapted or exotic species. To his right a stand of cyanids reared up into shadow, their sharp blue leaves like huge machete blades, metre-long flower pods open to expose intricate yellow convolutions like the surface of a brain. A low creaking attracted his attention towards his left, where a plasoderm's circular grey seed case slowly opened and oozed the flattened worms of jelly that were its slime-mould spore carriers. Seeing this last plant — a native of Callorum — immediately raised Cormac's suspicions. However, he knew that samples of such plants were always in circulation, and could be easily obtained by an enthusiast. He told himself not to have such a nasty suspicious nature.