Urzueth Ragh raised a desultory claw. “Ambassador Riordan had much need of what you call ‘restrooms’ during his stay with us.”
Ruap’s voice was dismissive. “Not surprising. I always heard that fear loosens the sphincters of cowards.”
Caine pretended disinterest in the gibe. That same sphincter is also “loosened” by my need to study the only room where I might have enough privacy to figure out a plan of escape, asshole.
Urzueth was offering further explanation. “Ambassador Riordan was almost killed during an explosive decompression incident while attending the Convocation. If I am not mistaken, it is not uncommon for humans to suffer this kind of intestinal—affliction—amongst other sequelae of such an event.”
Ruap made a disgusted noise. Astor-Smath checked his watch. “Three minutes,” he announced.
Urzueth Ragh made a gesture to the two Arat Kur guards. They powered down their combat armor, opened the hatchlike helmets.
Caine frowned. “What happens in three minutes?”
“You’ll see,” smiled Astor-Smath.
“Along with the rest of the world,” added Ruap bitterly.
Urzueth looked up at Caine. “I will explain. Slightly more than two days ago, we—the Arat Kur and Hkh’Rkh—sent new terms for capitulation to your governments. In three minutes, the fifty-hour response deadline will have elapsed. If we have not received a reply by then, our leadership has determined that, rather than initiate further communications, we will deploy a nonlethal means of demonstrating that your governments may not ignore us.”
Caine noted the precautions that were being taken: computers were unplugged, batteries were removed from palmcomps, and a whole bank of hall lights went dark. “You’re going to launch an EMP strike. You have weapons that can generate a heavy pulse without an accompanying nuclear detonation.”
“We shall. We do. The pulse is not as strong as the kind generated by a nuclear weapon, of course, so it will not affect shielded systems.”
But most civilian systems aren’t shielded, not even in hospitals, or on planes, or in skyscrapers, or at communication nodes, or… The list was endless.
As Riordan observed the ongoing preparations of his warders, he also found himself only peripherally observed. He palmed a fifty rupiah coin he had spotted on a nearby desk. Not like anyone would miss it, given its almost incalculably small purchasing power. But both his instincts and his training disposed him to see any object as a potential tool. And a humble coin could, in the next several minutes, prove to be an important, if imperfect, substitute for a screwdriver.
“Are we ready then?” Eimi asked, scanning the room with her trademark tentative smile. “We should leave as soon as—”
“I’m sorry, I have to use the bathroom,” Caine interjected quietly. “Again.”
“Well, that might be another embarrassment you’ll have to suffer today, Riordan,” Ruap snapped, dabbing at the hole in his smile with red-stained handkerchief. “I hope you—”
Urzueth Ragh lifted a claw. “President Ruap, sir. I apologize, but I cannot countenance this. And until I relinquish custody of Mr. Riordan to you officially, I must point out that his well-being and comfort is my personal responsibility. I may not, in good conscience, allow a situation to develop where the ambassador is compelled to soil himself.” He turned to Caine. “You may once again use the eliminatio—er, the ‘bathroom,’ attended by an escort. Who will remain outside, as before.”
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” Caine said with a nod. “Thank you, Urzueth.”
Who made a brief bob and gestured for one of his Arat Kur guards to accompany Riordan.
“No!” objected Ruap. “He must be guarded by humans, as well!”
“As you wish,” agreed Urzueth in a tone that bordered on exasperation.
Ruap made a gesture to the sergeant in command of the Indonesian troops. The NCO smiled, nodded at the scrawniest of his men. “Djoko, you go guard the bule ambassador. Make sure he doesn’t fall in.” Laughter followed the small man over to where Caine waited. Once there, Djoko stared at the Arat Kur guard, at Caine, then pitched his head in the direction of the restroom.
The three of them left the rest of the group to complete their preparations.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Graagkhruud put his hand to his ear. “First Voice, Jakarta reports the airspace is secure.”
“Time?”
Graagkhruud checked his armguard. “Oh seven fifty-nine hours, local, First Voice.”
“First Fist, contact GHQ and pass the word to ground all airborne platforms and power down all electronics, except hardened radios. We will send them an all clear in a few minutes. And summon the troop-leader to my side.”
“At once, First Voice.” First Fist began passing the orders, motioned over the troop-leader, pointed to First Voice. To Darzhee Kut, the summoned Hkh’Rkh seemed to grow in size: its barrel chest expanded, the slope of his species’ natural posture disappeared.
First Voice evidently heard him approach. Without turning, he asked, “Troop Leader, how are you called?”
“Vrryngraar, of the Clan Skelekd’sh.”
“Your clan is of the moiety of the Family Haanash, is it not?”
“My Clan does hunt in the lands of the Family Haanash, First Voice of the First Family. We are their vassals.”
“You speak of the old ways in the old words. This is good. Remit your duties as troop leader to your second, Vrryngraar. You shall replace Kra Rragkryzh in my retinue after the human uprising is crushed. Until then, you are to lead my one of my elite hunter-killer Honor Troops, which I shall use to teach the humans of Jakarta the posture of submission. You will take command and commence your counterinsurgency duties immediately upon our arrival in the presidential compound.”
“I hear and obey, my Overlord N’Erkversh, First Voice of the First Family.” The Hkh’Rkh immediately loped away, calling to one of his troop.
First Voice looked after him, spoke to the other Hkh’Rkh of his retinue. “Remove Kra Rragkryzh’s body to our shuttle.” He kept one calar claw suspended momentarily, and then finished, “Gently.” When the body was being moved, he swiveled his head slightly toward the rear. “Speaker Kut.”
Darzhee Kut edged slightly closer to the Hkh’Rkh leader. “Yes, First Voice of the First Family?”
“Tell me, are your people usually punctual?”
“Most assuredly so.”
“So they will not extend the deadline?”
“No, First Voice. Hu’urs Khraam gave the humans fifty hours in which to respond. That expires at oh eight hundred, local time.”
“Good, for my patience is at an end.”
Darzhee Kut heard a confirmation and a warning tone in his audio-insert. “So too is our wait. The attack is being launched now.”
Trevor’s commplex toned then peeped shrilly. The caller’s number was suppressed. Langley, for sure.
“Hi, Duncan. What’ve you got?”
“A lot. What do you want first?”
“The weirdest shit you’ve found.”
“Okay. First, the State Department was notified just half an hour ago that Elena Corinne Corcoran has received immediate clearance for travel to Beijing.”
“What? How could she even get there, with ships overbooked since—?”
“Weirder shit, still. She has a berth reserved in her name on board a government—as in Chinese government—high-speed hulclass="underline" Baltimore to Shanghai via transfer at the Panama Canal. That was just posted ten minutes ago.”