Surface Detail(223)
“Yes yes yes,” Veppers said. “You’ve done your research; well done. Clever girl.” (Still, Demeisen noticed, Veppers’ involuntary stress signs had peaked again, and Jasken was suddenly trying hard not to stare at either his master or Lededje.) Veppers turned to Huen. “Madam. Can we get to the point of things here?”
Demeisen turned quickly to Lededje. “Are you mad?” he asked her quietly.
“Burning my boats, you treacherous fuck,” she said, her voice sounding quiet and hollow. “If I can’t kill the bastard maybe I can unsettle him a little. It’s all you’ve left me.” She barely looked at the avatar as she said this.
“Av Demeisen,” the ambassador said, sitting up straight and brushing some crumbs from her fingers, “you need to listen to this.” She nodded to Veppers.
Veppers looked at the avatar. He took in a breath, then expelled it, glanced at Huen. “This … person really does represent a Culture ship? You’re sure?”
“Yes,”the ambassador said, watching Demeisen rather than looking at Veppers as she addressed him. “Get on with it.”
Veppers shook his head. “Oh well.” He smiled insincerely at the avatar, who smiled just as insincerely back. “The smatter is a diversion,” Veppers told him. “I made one agreement with the Flekke and NR, to stay out of any conflict regarding the Hells. Smokescreen. I never intended to keep it. I made another agreement with the GFCF to provide them with targets for a fleet of ships they would build in the Tsungarial Disk while the Culture and anybody else who might have interfered was tied up with the smatter outbreak. That is the agreement that I intend to keep, so long as nothing untoward befalls me. Those targets are the Hells–well, the substrates running them; the vast majority of them at any rate. All the important ones.”
“And they are here,” Huen said. “On Sichult, is that right?”
Veppers smiled at her. “Here or hereabouts.”
Huen nodded slowly. “The latest reports I have indicate that a substantial number of the Disk- built ships have, surprisingly, escaped the confines of the Tsung system, possibly powered by unexpected amounts of power no one thought they might possess, and are headed this way,” she said, glancing at Demeisen. “To Sichult.”
“Sudden rush of anti-matter to the engines,” the avatar said, nodding vigorously. “I’ve an element or two running them down, but a number will likely get through.”
“Their targets are in or around Sichult,” Veppers said. “I’ll call in the exact locations when they’re closer.”
Demeisen’s eyes narrowed. “Really? That’s cutting it awfully fine, isn’t it?”
“Timing is everything,” Veppers said, smiling. “The point is,” he said, sitting forward on his couch, towards Demeisen – who sensed Lededje tensing, and, without looking, put one arm out and behind him, across her chest, preventing her from moving – “that I’m on your side, sailor boy.” Veppers directed another perfectly insincere smile at the avatar, who this time did not reciprocate. “On my say-so,” Veppers continued, “if I’m around to give it, and enough ships get through to deliver the killer blows, all those nasty, horrible Hells will get wasted and all the poor tortured souls will be released from their torment.” Veppers tipped his head to one side, interrogatively. “So what we need from you is some sort of guarantee that you won’t interfere with any of this. Maybe you’ll even help the ships get through, or at least stop anybody else – the NR, say – from interfering with them.” Veppers glanced at Lededje before looking back to the avatar. “Deal?”
“Good grief, yes!” Demeisen said, reaching across the table to the Sichultian. “Deal!” He nodded vigorously. “Sorry for any earlier remarks! Nothing personal!” He kept his hand stuck out, and nodded at it. Veppers looked at Demeisen’s open, waiting hand.
“You’ll forgive me,” he told the avatar. “I prefer not to shake hands. One never knows where other people’s have been.”
“Totally understand,” Demeisen said, withdrawing his hand without any apparent self-consciousness.
“I have your word?” Veppers said, looking from Huen to Demeisen. “Both of you; I have your word, your personal and representational guarantee that I’ll come to no harm, yes?”
“Absolutely,” ambassador Huen said. “Given.”
“A deal is a fucking deal!” Demeisen agreed. “You’ll suffer no harm from me, I swear.” The avatar looked round at Lededje, sitting simmering on the couch behind him. “Or my little pal here!” He took her by the shoulders with one arm, shook her.