Distress полностью

"Apparently his scan was clear." De Groot snorted, angry and bewildered. "He's unmoved by… all of this. He believes that Nishide simply died of natural causes, Violet has some harmless pollutant in her body, and your cholera analysis was some kind of forgery for the sake of a media beat-up. The only thing he seems worried about is how he's going to get home at the end of the conference if the airport is still closed."

"But he has bodyguards—?"

"I don't know; you'd have to ask him that. Oh—and Violet asked him to give a media conference himself, announcing the flaw in his TOE. The antiviral drugs are debilitating; she's so nauseous that she can barely speak. Buzzo made some vague promise to her—but then he muttered something to me about looking at the issues more closely before he retracted anything. So I don't know what he'll do."

I felt a stab of anger and frustration, but I said, "He's heard all the evidence, it's his decision." I didn't much want to think about Buzzo's enemies, myself. Sarah Knight's body hadn't even been found yet—but the possibility that her killer was on Stateless unnerved me more than anything else. The moderates had let me walk free, once they'd reasoned that they could still get what they wanted. The extremists had nearly killed me, once already—and they hadn't even been trying.

I said, "Even if this weapon is about to go off at any moment… there's nothing anyone can do on Stateless that couldn't be done in an air ambulance. Right? And… surely your government would be willing to send a fully equipped military hospital jet—"

De Groot gave a hollow laugh. "Yeah? You make it sound so easy. Violet has some friends in high places—and some sworn enemies… but most of all, a lot of fucking pragmatists who'll happily use her in whatever way they see fit. It would take a small miracle for them to weigh up the pros and cons, take sides, battle it out, and make a decision, all in one day—even if Stateless was at peace, and the jet could land right at the airport."

"Come on! The whole island's as flat as a runway! Okay, it's soft at the edges, but there must be a… twenty-kilometer radius in which the ground is hard enough,"

"All within reach of a missile from the airport."

"Yeah, but why should the mercenaries care about a medical evacuation? They must be expecting foreign navies to start moving in soon to take their nationals off the island. This is no different; it's just faster."

De Groot shook her head sadly; she wanted to be convinced, but I wasn't making sense to her. "Whatever you and I might think about the risks, it's just guesswork and wishful thinking. The government is still going to assess the situation from their own point of view—and they're not going to make a decision in thirty seconds. Tens of thousands of dollars for a mercy flight is one thing. A plane shot down over Stateless is another. And the last thing Violet—or any sane person—would want is three or four innocent people blown out of the sky for no reason."

I turned away from her, and crossed to the window. From what I could see of the streets below, Stateless was still at peace. But whatever bloody havoc the mercenaries were planning… surely the last thing their employers wanted was a world-famous martyr for technoliberation?. That was why EnGeneUity had never really made sense as her would-be assassins: her death would be as bad for them as her highly publicized emigration.

It was a delicate proposition, though. What would they be admitting, if they made an exception for her? And which scenario would they consider most damaging to the anti-boycott push: the cautionary tale of Mosala's tragic death from a reckless flirtation with renegades—or the heart-warming story of survival when a mercy flight whisked her back into the fold (where every gene belonged to its rightful owner, and every disease had an instant cure)?

As yet, they probably didn't even know about the difficult choice they were facing. So it was up to whoever broke the news to sell them on the right decision.

I turned to De Groot. "What if the mercenaries could be persuaded to guarantee safe passage for a rescue flight? To make a public statement to that effect? Do you think you could start things moving—on the chance of that?" I clenched my fists, fighting down panic. Did I have any idea what I was saying? Once I'd promised to do this, I couldn't back out.

But I'd already made a promise to swim faster.

De Groot looked torn. "Violet hasn't even told Wendy or Makompo yet. And she's sworn me to silence. Wendy's on a business trip in Toronto."

"If she can lobby from Cape Town, she can lobby from Toronto. And Violet's not thinking straight. Tell her mother everything. And her husband. Tell Marian Fox and the whole IUTP if you have to."

De Groot hesitated, then nodded uncertainly. "It's worth trying. Anything's worth trying. But how do you imagine we're going to get any kind of guarantee from the mercenaries?"