Judge by Karen Traviss

Author:Karen Traviss [Traviss, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780060882402
Google: xtMePZg6vC0C
Amazon: B00125JO68
Barnesnoble: B00125JO68
Goodreads: 12061202
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2008-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

10

The FEU has until midnight to hand over ex-EFI5 agent Katya Prachy to the Canadian authorities for involvement in alleged war crimes in the Cavanagh’s Star system. The Eqbas Vorhi task force is also seeking custody of Prachy, but is said to be in talks with Canada about dropping the claim pending a UN war crimes tribunal held under Canadian law.

BBChan 445 international bulletin

F’nar, Wess’ej.

“Are you coming to bed, Eddie?”

Erica leaned against the doorframe and pulled an exasperated, weary expression that was exactly like Serrimissani’s disapproving scowl. Eddie didn’t risk telling her that she looked like a stroppy ussissi.

“I have to watch this, doll. Sorry.” He gestured at the ITX link showing BBChan live. “You’ve got no idea how frustrating this is.”

“You want to see Brussels wiped off the map, is that it?” She walked across the room in front of the screen and started boiling water and rattling glass cups. “Armageddon, live and uninterrupted. Lovely. But we’ve got hours yet. Time to get some beer and snacks in, and make a night of it.”

“If I’d gone,” he said sourly, “I might have been some use.”

“If you’d gone, poppet, you might have made it worse. And you’re still sticking your oar in, aren’t you? I saw that piece on Prachy. I can’t believe you did that.”

“It needed saying.”

“Shan needed you to say it, more like.”

Erica made the tea and held the cup out to him, a beautiful piece of wess’har domestic art, all violet and gold swirls; they made the most wonderful glass. Transparency was their obsession. The drains running from terrace to terrace around the caldera were a kind of glass too, like all their utensils, and on Constantine, before Aras had let the nanites loose to erase all signs of human settlement, even the church bells had been royal blue glass like antique Bristol ware. One of the things Eddie had grown to love about wess’har was that what you saw was exactly, painfully, and unremittingly what you got. They hid nothing.

If they said midnight was the deadline, they didn’t mean 2359 or 0001. And the consequences would be swift.

“If anything,” Eddie said, responding aloud to his own thoughts, “Esganikan’s gone soft. I’m piecing together what I’m getting from the news with the little I hear from Shan, and I’m amazed no shit’s hit the fan yet. The Eqbas expect the death penalty. They can’t even imagine that a trial would acquit, either. Big cultural mismatch there. Lull before the storm, maybe.”

“If memory serves, the Eqbas were hanging around here for ages before they started on Umeh.”

“Did it scare you, knowing they’d turned up?”

“Bloody right it did. You?”

Eddie tried to remember. He’d logged and recorded a museum’s worth of experiences since he’d first come here, but recalling his emotional state accurately at any one point was hard. “I think I knew it was scary, but I was more wrapped up in the ethics of how I reported it all. My footage kicked off riots. It’s like realizing you’ve pulled the trigger without looking where you were aiming.

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