Panoply operatives be denied the day-to-day right to carry weapons, beyond those specified in the operational mandate. Panoply has always respected this decision, even when it has meant placing its own prefects at risk. During the last year alone, eleven field prefects have died in the line of duty because they carried no weapon more effective than a simple autonomous whip. And yet each and every one of them walked into danger knowing only that they had a duty to perform.” Having made her point, Baudry paused again before continuing.
“But it is part of the mandate that, when circumstances dictate, Panoply has the means to return to the citizenry and request the temporary right—a period specified as exactly one hundred and thirty hours, not a minute longer—to arm its agents with those weapons that remain in our arsenal, designated for use under extreme circumstances. I need hardly add that such a request is not issued lightly, nor in any expectation of automatic affirmation. It is, nonetheless, my unfortunate duty to issue such a request now. For matters of operational security, I regret that I cannot specify the exact nature of the crisis, other than to say that it is of a severity we have very rarely encountered, and that the future safety of the entire Glitter Band may depend on our actions. As you are doubtless aware, tensions between the Glitter Band and the Ultras have reached an unacceptable level in the last few days. Because of this situation, Panoply operatives are already facing heightened risks to their personal safety. In addition, Panoply’s usual resources—people and machines both—are overworked and overstretched. I would therefore respectfully issue two requests at this point. The first is to urge calm, for—despite what some of you may have heard—all the information presently in Panoply’s possession indicates that there has been no act of hostile intention from the Ultras. The second request is to grant my agents the right to carry those weapons that they now need to perform their duties. Polling on this issue will commence immediately. Please give this matter your utmost attention. This is Senior Prefect Baudry, speaking for Panoply, asking for your help.”
The deep-system cruiser Universal Suffrage sat in its berthing cradle, ready to be pushed out of the hangar into space. Final preparations were under way, with just the latter phases of fuelling and armament still to be completed. The midnight-black wedge of the ninety-metre-long vehicle was offset by the luminous markings delineating general instructions and warnings, power and fuel umbilical sockets, sensor panels, airlocks and weapons and thruster vents. Only when the cruiser was under way would these lines and inscriptions fade back into the absolute blackness of the rest of the hull. Conferring with the pilot, Dreyfus had already worked out an approach strategy. They would come in fast, tail-first, and execute a last-minute high-burn deceleration. It would be bone-crushingly hard, but the cruiser was built to tolerate it and the prefects would be protected by quickmatter cocoons. A slower approach would give Aubusson’s anti-collision weapons too great a chance of achieving a target lock.
Satisfied with the status of the ship, Dreyfus pushed his way out of the observation gallery into the armoury, where the other prefects were being issued with Model B whiphounds. He checked the time. Any minute now, the polling results should be in. He’d listened to Baudry’s speech and didn’t think anyone could have made a better case without galvanising the entire Glitter Band into mass panic. She’d walked a delicate line with commendable skill.
But sometimes the best case wasn’t good enough.
Set into one wall was a wide glass panel, oval in shape, with burnished silver pads on either side of it. Behind the panel, set into padded recesses and arranged like museum pieces, was a small selection of the weapons Panoply agents were no longer permitted to carry. There were vastly more weapons hidden from view, waiting to be rolled into place. All were matt-black and angular, devoid of ornamentation or aesthetic fripperies. Some of them were handguns scarcely more lethal than whiphounds. The heaviest weapons, Dreyfus knew, were fully capable of cutting through the skin of a typical habitat.
Baudry and Crissel had just arrived, stationing themselves at either side of the oval window. They each carried one of a pair of heavy keys that needed to be inserted into the pads on either side of the window and then turned simultaneously. Only seniors carried the keys, and it took two seniors to unlock the extreme-contingencies weapons.
“The vote’s in?” Dreyfus asked.
“Just a few seconds,” Baudry told him. Most of the field prefects had filed out of the room now, to take their positions aboard the Universal Suffrage. Only a handful were still dealing with their armour, or waiting to receive weapons.
“Here it comes,” she said, the set of her jaw tensing in anticipation.
Dreyfus glanced down at the summary data spilling across his bracelet readout, but it wasn’t necessary to see the result for himself. Baudry’s expression told him all he needed to know.
“Voi,” Crissel said, shaking his head in dismay.
“I can’t believe this!”
“There’s got to be a mistake,” Baudry said, mumbling the words as if in a trance.
“There isn’t. Forty-one per cent against, forty per cent for, nineteen per cent abstentions. We lost by one per cent!”
Dreyfus checked the numbers on his bracelet. There had been no error. Panoply had been refused the right to bear arms.
“There was always a chance,” he said.
“If House Aubusson hadn’t dropped off the network, they might even have swung it for us.”
“I’ll go back to the people,” Baudry said.
“The statutes say I can table another poll.”
“It won’t make any difference. You made your point excellently the first time. No one could have argued our case more effectively without inciting system-wide panic.”
“I say we just dispense them,” Crissel said.
“There’s no technical reason why we need a majority vote.
The keys will still work.”
Dreyfus saw the tendons on the back of Crissel’s hand standing proud as he readied himself to twist the key.
“Maybe you’re right,” Baudry said. There was a kind of awestruck horror in her voice, as if she was contemplating the execution of a glamorous crime.
“These are exceptional circumstances, after all. We’ve lost four habitats. We can’t rule out wider polling anomalies, either. We’d be within our rights to disregard that poll.”
“Then why did you bother tabling it?” Dreyfus asked.
“Because I had to,” Baudry said.
“Then you have to do what the people say, too. And the people say no guns.” Crissel was almost pleading now.
“But these are exceptional times. Rules can be waived.” Dreyfus shook his head at the senior.
“No, they can’t. The reason this organisation exists in the first place is to make sure the democratic apparatus functions smoothly, without error, bias or fraud. Those are the rules we hold everyone else accountable to. We’d better make damn sure we hold ourselves to the same standards.”
Baudry tilted her head in the direction of the Universal Suffrage.
“Even if it means going out there with nothing but whiphounds?”
Dreyfus nodded solemnly.
“Even that.”
“Now I understand why Jane never promoted you above field,” Baudry said, before shooting a conspiratorial glance at Crissel.
“But you’re outranked here, Tom. Michael and I have the keys, not you. On three.”
“On three,” Crissel said.
“One… two… and turn.”
Their hands twisted in unison. A mechanism clunked behind the wall and the oval window slid ponderously aside. The visible weapons emerged from their recessed partitions, pushed out on chromed metal rods. Crissel retrieved a medium-size rifle, sighted along its slab-sided, vent-perforated flanks and then propelled it through the air to Dreyfus.