Veppers pointed back towards the doors. “Just before I have my chief of security take you away for—”
“Information. Talk. Immediately,” the little alien said. “No further delay. I have orders.”
“Sir?” Jasken shouted from beyond the doors again. “Are you all right? It’s Jasken, with two Zei.”
“Yes!” Veppers shouted. “Wait there!” He turned to Diamle.
“My robe.”
The girl twirled, scooped his robe from the floor. Veppers lifted Sohne’s head up by her long golden hair and slapped her across the face a couple of times, bringing her round. She sat back, looking woozy, cheeks reddened.
“Both of you, out,” Veppers told the women as he wrapped his robe around himself. “Leave the door unlocked and tell Jasken and the Zei to wait where they are. Let him know what’s happened here, but nobody else.”
Diamle wrapped herself and Sohne in sheets and helped the other girl to the doors. Veppers heard Diamle saying something to Jasken, then the doors thudded shut again.
Veppers turned to the small creature. “Are you familiar with the phrase, ‘This had better be good,’ Over-Lieutenant Vrept?” he asked, knee-walking his way up the bed towards the sitting alien, then looking down, towering over it.
“I am,” it told him. “This is not good though; this is bad. Hence the urgency. My commander, the aforesaid honourable Bettlescroy-Bisspe-Blispin III, bids me inform you that there has been a security breach in the Tsungarial Disk; one of the currently ship-constructing fabricaria was damaged during the ongoing diversionary smatter outbreak containment action and a light space craft belonging to the Culture Restoria mission caught recorded sight of the extemporised ship being built within said fabricary, signalling this information to the rest of the Culture mission within the Disk, which has concomitantly relayed said information beyond to other Culture units while at the same time investigating other fabricaria to discover whether others amongst them are also building ships, the results of this investigation being positive, of course, though steps have been and are being taken to neutralise the Culture mission’s abilities.
“In sum: it is now known within the Culture, and feasibly beyond, that certain of the Disk elements are manufacturing a war fleet. The fleet is still a day and a half from earliest completion, excluding AM-fuelling. Several Culture ships are approaching the Disk. The NR seem not to have been informed of the full substance of the aforesaid intelligence, however they have expressed strong interest in knowing what precisely is going on in the matter of the Tsungarial Disk, and unconfirmed reports suggest they may be moving militarily relevant assets into position.
“That is the initial substance of my message. Any questions, good sir? Or, and also, you may wish to enlighten the aforesaid honourable Bettlescroy-Bisspe-Blispin III regarding the previously discussed but still unspecified targets pertaining to the still-being-built ships. That would be appreciated.”
Veppers stared open-mouthed at the little alien for at least two heartbeats, then wondered if he too was about to faint.
“Well, happy fucking day!” Demeisen said. He turned to Lededje with a grin that extended into a broad smile.
She looked at him. “I have the feeling that what you think of as good news might not strike everybody else as being quite so smashing.”
“Some nutter’s building a bunch of ships in the Tsungarial Disk!” Demeisen sat back in the seat, staring at the module’s screen, still smiling.
“How is that good news?”
“It’s not, it’s a fucking disaster,” Demeisen said, waving his arms.
“This’ll end in tears, mark my words.”
“So stop smiling.”
“I can’t! There are natural … Okay, I can,”‘ the avatar said, turning to her with a look of such abject sadness she instantly wanted to take him in her armour-suited arms, pat his back and reassure him everything would be all right. Even as Lededje realised quite how easily she was being manipulated, and started to feel furious at herself as well as Demeisen, he dropped the sad look and went back to looking quite gloriously happy. “I can help it,” he admitted, “I just don’t want to help it.” He waved his arms again. “Come on! This avatar naturally recognises my own emotional state and reflects it, unless I’m deliberately trying to deceive. Would you rather I lied to you?”
“Then what,” Lededje asked, trying to keep her voice cold and not get caught up in the avatar’s obvious enthusiasm, “is making you smile about a disaster?”