ornamental flower show

[middlingalong]

Destang isn't too thrilled with Ivan, but since his lack of thrill takes the form of sending Ivan to a flower show to be out of the commodore's hair rather than, say, confining him to quarters like poor Galeni, Ivan isn't going to rock the boat. He leaves the half-commlink with Galeni in case Miles suddenly has an emergency and goes off as directed to meet the lady he's escorting.

He finds her at the University of London's Horticulture Hall, shepherds her around, makes comments of limited sophistication but genuine enthusiasm regarding the pretty flowers, and excuses himself a couple hours into the affair for a bathroom break.

Comments

[spacetobreathe]

"Poor Cousin Ivan," murmurs Elli.

"Miles?" says Galeni from the commlink. "The private who drove the car spelled Ivan attending milady for a bathroom break, and when he wasn't back after twenty minutes went looking, and spent half an hour searching the entire mobbed hall before reporting back - how did you know?"

[thisvorlunatic]

"I got a call," says Miles. "Do you recognize whose operational style is at work here?"

[alicornucopia]

"Fuck," snarls Galeni.

[thisvorlunatic]

"My sentiments exactly. Meet me in fifty minutes at the Thames Tidal Barrier, Section Six. Pack a stunner, at minimum, and try not to alert Destang on your way out. We have an appointment with your father and my brother. One last chance to make this right. Not a good chance, just the last one. Are you with me?"

[alicornucopia]

"Yes."

[thisvorlunatic]

"Good. I'll see you there."

He thumbs the comlink off, pockets it, and heads into the shuttle. His jitters are only partly calmed by being on his way to action at last; only on the final approach, as the aircar makes a circling pass over the Thames Tidal Barrier, does he settle down fully at last.

The Barrier looms like a miniature mountain range over the starry expanse of old London below, running off out of sight in either direction, with the black sea lapping calmly at its outward side, decorated with a scant sparkle of nighttime navigation lights. Section Six is a deserted stretch of synthacrete, spiderwebbed with catwalks and access ports in a complex geometric arrangement, containing nothing more exciting than auxiliary pumping stations.

"So what happens at 0207?" wonders Miles as the aircar alights in a nearly empty parking area. "It's such an exact time..."

"High tide, sir," the driver supplies.

"Ah..." He rubs his face. "Highly suggestive. Ivan is likely to be nearby, and likely to be below the high waterline. Chained to a rock like Andromeda, or something equally horrifying... have the air patrol make a pass, check the external side of the barrier."

He glances at his chrono and suppresses some more jittering. Eight minutes left.

[spacetobreathe]

Elli gets out to scan the perimeter.

"There's someone approaching on foot, sir."

[thisvorlunatic]

"Pray it's Galeni," mutters Miles.

It's not Galeni. It's a jogger and his dog, both of whom seem very uneasy about the addition of four uniformed Dendarii into their late-night run. They pass on by.

The next one is Galeni.

"All right, this is where we part ways," says Miles to Elli. "Stay back, stay out of sight, but if you can get a good vantage, do. Let's have a comm check."

He uses his boot knife to carefully disable the transmit-indicator light in his wristcom, then taps the sound pickup a few times and listens to the echo from Elli's wrist. "Good. Got your med scanner? Take a baseline."

[spacetobreathe]

"Recorded and ready for auto-comparison," she says, when she's scanned him.

[thisvorlunatic]

"Good," he says again. "Am I missing anything?"

[spacetobreathe]

"There are, I think, still assassins after you in this uniform; if they cotton to where you're at...?"

[thisvorlunatic]

"Call my wife and get her over here to be haut at them."

[spacetobreathe]

"And if somebody who looks and doesn't scan like you comes along?"

[thisvorlunatic]

"Grab him, apply fast-penta, rescue Ivan if at all possible, then - " Miles shrugs unhappily. "Use your judgment."

[spacetobreathe]

"Yes, sir."

Galeni, lacking full context, tilts his head but doesn't comment.

[thisvorlunatic]

And now that Galeni is finally across the parking lot and ready to accompany him, Miles heads off. His chrono says three and a half minutes left. The symbolic barrier of a chain across the catwalk with a 'Closed' sign hanging from it eats a few seconds of that time.

"Any trouble getting out of the embassy?" he asks as they ascend the stairs.

[alicornucopia]

"Not particularly. It's getting back in that's the trick. As for the way out, I just left through the side entrance and got on the tubeway. Conveniently, the guard wasn't under orders to shoot me."

[thisvorlunatic]

"Which you found out in the trying," Miles guesses, and shakes his head. "So. Destang's going to know you left. Think you were followed?"

[alicornucopia]

"Not immediately, not with the embassy security staff so undermanned at the moment. And I'd be hard to trace; I left my wristcom and paid cash for the tubeway."

[thisvorlunatic]

"Right."

Up they get, to the very top of the Barrier. Daytime tourists get their marvellous view of the ocean this way; Miles sees it only incidentally as he leans over the railing to look down at the narrow ledge below. There are ladders, of course; retracted and locked up for the night, of course. Rather than fuss with the ladder controls, Miles gets out his Dendarii-issue gravitic grappler, attaches it to the railing, squirms into the ribbon harness, and lets himself down the outside of the wall on a thin, thin wire, trying not to think about what would happen if any part of this arrangement broke sufficiently to let him fall.

At the bottom, he unharnesses himself and hits the control to make the contraption reel back up for Galeni; once they're both down, he hits a second control, and the grappler lets go of the railing up above and slurps itself neatly back onto its reel for later use. Miles folds it up and pockets it again, then draws one of his stunners.

"This way," he says, nodding along the ledge to the right. "What have you got? I brought two stunners."

[alicornucopia]

"I could only get one."

[thisvorlunatic]

It'll have to do. Miles leads the way, single file by necessity. The ledge follows the curve of the wall, out and back in again, so that Miles and Galeni are mutually invisible to whoever and whatever lies beyond the bulge; Miles gestures Galeni to stay back out of sight, and proceeds alone, his quiet footsteps lost in the gurgle of seawater not far below.

[unmarred]

Around the curve, the narrow ledge widens, its outer railing arcing out past the inward-turning concrete wall of the Barrier to come back in and meet it some four meters along. The tall oval hatch of a watertight door interrupts the smooth curve of the wall about a meter before the railing, and standing in front of that door are Mark and Galen, each holding a stunner.

Mark is wearing a partial Dendarii uniform, black shirt, grey trousers, boots, but no jacket. Miles's grandfather's seal-dagger is strapped to his waist. He looks tense and unhappy.

"A standoff," Galen observes, looking over the three stunners in view. "If we all fire at once, you go down, taking at most one of us with you, and I win. If by some miracle you drop us both, we cannot tell you where your oxlike cousin is. He'll die before you can find him. I trust you do not consider that a positive outcome. Your pretty bodyguard may as well join us."

[alicornucopia]

Galeni comes around the corner.

"Some stand-offs are more curious than others."

[thisvorlunatic]

"You were to bring the woman," hisses Galen, eyes widening slightly at this unexpected sight.

"Really? You just said 'your bodyguard'," says Miles. "But you said two, and we are two. All the interested parties are gathered. Now what?"

"The stand-off remains. If you're both stunned you lose; if we're both stunned you lose anyway."

"What would you suggest?" inquires Miles.

"I propose we all lay our weapons in the center of the deck. Then we can talk without distraction."

From which Miles deduces that Galen has a concealed weapon too. "An interesting proposition," he says. "Who puts his down last?"

Galen frowns, in equal parts deep thought and deep displeasure.

"I too would like to talk without distraction," says Miles. "I propose this schedule. I'll lay mine down first. Then M—then the clone. Then yourself. Then Captain Galeni."

"What guarantee—?" Galen cuts himself off, looking at his son, unvoiced tensions weighing the air between them like some deadly invisible poison cloud.

"He'll give you his word," Miles says smoothly, and looks to Galeni to confirm; the captain nods once.

"All right," says Galen, after a long moment of inward reflection.

Miles steps forward, making no sudden movements, and kneels down to lay his stunner in the center of the deck.