Regenesis

Much less traffic once they were going that direction, which was to be expected, so much of Wing One being under construction, but once they got to the Wing One concourse, there were faces Justin didn’t immediately recognize, and that was entirely surreal; people standing around in the generally dim light the tu

He could hardly ignore it. “Jordan,” Justin said, as they joined the group in passing. “Councillors.” A nod to Councillor deFranco, Councillor Chavez.

“My son Justin Warrick,” Jordan introduced him. “And Grant ALX.”

“Sera. Ser.” Justin set down the briefcase and offered a hand in courtesy. Grant did the same. “An honor.”

“I’d say it’s a pleasure,” deFranco said, “except for the circumstances.”

“Khalid, damn him.” Chavez said. “Taking this little business up a notch. Probably aiming at the airport. Maybe at the media people. Or us. This is getting damned serious.”

“A crazy universe,” Jordan said, and put a hand on Justin’s shoulder, just a little unfriendly pressure of the fingers that said he was, at the moment, as welcome as the plague. “Here we are expecting the rest of the Council, and Vladislaw Khalid casts an early vote. I don’t think it’s going to win him friends.”

“I’ve got to get back to Alpha Wing,” Justin said.

“You aren’t going anywhere until they open the upstairs doors,” Jordan said.

“I’ve got a responsibility next door. And twenty kilos of records to stow. I’ll at least get through to the tu

“My talented son,” Jordan said, and let him go.

He went. He picked up his briefcase, gathered up Grant and Mark and Gerry without a word and went on into the nook that separated Alpha Wing. “Try the key,” he asked Grant, not even looking back, and to his vast relief it did work, and let them through, out of Jordan’s vicinity.

It let them through at least as far as the guard station and two others of Mark’s and Gerry’s unit.

“Can I possibly get upstairs?” he asked.

“Keycard will actually override, ser,” one said, “but it’s advised you stay below. We don’t know that that’s the last that will come in. Best to go into the safety tu

Nothing sensible to do, then, but go aside, down the ramp to the deeper fortification, where, in fact, everyone else had gone. There was a bank of chairs, a galley an auxiliary command post, quite a few of Ari’s staff out and about. Maddy Strassen, Tommy and Mika–they were there. Wes and Marco were busy at the command post…

“We’re all right,” Justin said to Mark and Gerry, and walked into the command post alcove to set down the heavy briefcase. “Wes, Marco: these belong to Ari.”

“Thank you, ser,” Wes said.

“What have we got out there?”

Monitors were active. There was a large one above the console. Wes moved a hand, and that one went live.

It didn’t make sense for a moment…a floodlit area in the dark, beside a white strip that appeared to be part of a road. A lot of twisted metal, lit against the night.

“That’s the airport road,” Grant murmured.

Then the scale made sense, the twisted metal–a small plane, maybe; but large enough to make a hell of a hole. It was surreal, the crater and that wreckage beside the main road, right near the streetlight–it was tilted; outraged bots were scurrying along the perimeter, never coming closer. A handful of hazard‑suited figures were out there, in the shadows.

That it hadn’t hit any building when it had come down had been, Justin thought, their supreme good luck.

That crater was–dammit–right near the hospital.

“What is it?” he asked. “What was it?”

“Missile,” Wes said, and Marco, “Seems to be out of Svetlansk. There’s a Defense base up there.”

“God,” he said. “They’re crazy.”

And then he thought that Mark and Gerry might have had training that enabled them to accept explosions as part of the environment, but that Grant certainly hadn’t. Justin took hold of Grant’s arm. “Are you all right with this?” he asked.

“I’m not sure I ever quite expected things falling on the grounds,” Grant said in his best attempt at levity. “I think I’m doing all right. It’s like being shot at, isn’t it?”

“I think it’s a little worse than that,” he said. It wasworse, for everybody. “Come on. Leave the briefcases here. Mark, Gerry, you’re on your own.”

He walked with Grant just outside the alcove, and ran into Maddy. “Any news?” Maddy asked.

“Not much, except it may be a missile,” he said quietly “Is there coffee?”

“In the galley. Staff will get it. Sandwiches if you want them.”

“Thanks,” he said. His stomach didn’t want food. But a drink of something hot was more attractive. He and Grant walked on toward the galley–didn’t even get close, before one of Ari’s staff–Del, it was–presented them a choice of juices and sweet rolls.

Juice, he decided. Grant took one, too, and they went and had a seat at the galley tables, which had been let down from the wall. There was a news monitor nearby, people talking into the camera, a low, steady sound.

“I think they wanted to take a tower down,” he said, “just like upriver. They wanted to scare us.”

“Well, they’ve certainly done that,” Grant said over a sip of juice. “What are the chances of another one, I wonder?”

“I don’t know,” he said, which was the truth.

“Reseune defenses will get it,” a young voice said, and Tommy Carnath arrived with his sister, settling near them, likewise with juice. “If they come near the towers and they’re not aircraft, they’ll knock them down.”

Not saying what they’ll fall on, Justin thought unhappily, but, considering Grant, he kept that observation to himself.

“Attention.”The vid changed abruptly. Ari was suddenly on camera, not with the news, but somewhere else, somewhere office‑like. “We’ve identified the object as an I‑82 air to ground missile, serial number 38298, which did detonate conventional explosives. It came from the military base at Svetlansk. It fell in the green space between the airport and the warehouses, and it’s no longer a threat. We have the following statement:

“Reseune asks why any Defense installation on Cyteen is in possession of such armament and what enemy they anticipate to exist on this planet. Reseune asks who authorized its import and storage. Reseune asks who targeted it at a sovereign Administrative Territory, where only Union civilians are present.

“Reseune calls on the Council Office of Inquiry to ask these questions where appropriate and to relay their findings to the Council of Nine and the Council of Worlds. The citizens of Reseune call on patriotic members of the Bureau of Defense to consider this event and act immediately to prevent another such attack on the constitution and the rights of the people of Union.

“We will interrupt tonight with bulletins only if necessary. Security doors will open at this point. Please proceed to your destinations and remain alert in the event we are not done with alarms. Thank you.”

Justin finished his drink, put a hand on Grant’s shoulder, and said, “Well, what do you want to do? Stay here, or go up?”

“I leave that to the wisdom of born‑men,” Grant said, and gave him a look that said he really wished he could. “Do you think there’ll be another?”

“No way to know. I think if they know where that came from, they’ll be watching. We’ll get an alert.”

“Well, I suppose it’s more comfortable upstairs,” Grant said.

So they went. So did the rest, except part of Ari’s staff, who might intend to keep the tu

Ari herself was over in Admin, now, Justin had no personal doubt, probably in ReseuneSec or up in Ya