Read Online Galactic Empires by Gardner Dozois - Free Book Online Page B

around where I shouldn’t have, as you asked. I’m not sure how relevant this is now, but the Dynasties know who’s been backing the whole Merioneth independence movement.”
    “Who?”
    “Now promise you won’t shoot the messenger.”
    Paula grinned and took another sip. “I won’t.”
    “The Human Structure Foundation.”
    The surprise made her start. “Damnit!” She struggled not to let the tea spill onto the bed.
    “You okay?”
    “Yes, yes.” Beside her, Aidan stirred at the commotion.
    “Look, I can maybe make some inquiries at this end, see if my Dynasty will go along with a covert extraction. The Free Merioneth Forces hurt a lot of Halgarths. Heather was not happy about giving them Isolation. We could put together an operation with the Sheldons.”
    “That’s more like vengeance,” Paula said quietly. “Not due process.”
    “You’re running out of options.”
    “I know. I need to make a few more inquiries about this. I’ll get back to you.”
    Aidan blinked round, lifting his head off the pillow. “Something wrong?”
    “No.” She ran her hand through his disheveled hair. “Early start, that’s all. Something unexpected came up. I’ve got to take a trip.”
    “Where to now? Other side of the Commonwealth again?”
    “The Caribbean, actually.”
    *
    The nearest city on the trans-Earth loop was New York. When she arrived at the Newark station, Paula took a cab over to JFK and flew a Directorate hypersonic parallel to the East Coast, then on south to Grenada. The Human Structure Foundation campus occupied a broad stretch of rugged land behind a series of curving beaches whose pale sand was just visible in the low moonlight. A circular white-glass tower formed the center, silhouetted by liquid bifluron tubes embedded in the structure. The long sodium-orange web of streets radiating out from the base revealed the surrounding village of elaborate bungalows. Foundation members didn’t reside in any of the island’s ordinary towns; in the last century, few ventured out beyond the heavily guarded perimeter strip. It was a micronation of genetic ideologues, despised by just about everyone, yet continuing to operate under Senate-imposed research restrictions, restrictions that had grown ever stronger since the establishment of Huxley’s Haven.
    Paula was familiar enough with the setup, though she’d never actually visited before. The notion of walking around the place that conceived her-intellectually and physically-was an experience she simply didn’t want.
    Her plane landed on a circular pad by the tower. Long ply-plastic petals unrolled from the edges to form a protective shell over her little craft. An astonishingly attractive woman named Ophelia escorted her up to Dr. Friland’s office on the top floor of the tower. On the way through the atrium lobby, people stopped and stared at Paula. It was three o’clock in the morning local time; the tower should have been deserted. She was used to attention, but this was akin to religious respect. Some looked like they wanted to bow as she walked past. The effect was un-nerving-and she wasn’t used to that feeling at all.
    “You’re the living proof that the concepts for which we stand have been successful,” Ophelia murmured as they walked into the elevator. “There have been many sacrifices down the decades, so please excuse their wonder.”
    Paula sucked in her cheeks, unable to meet any of the ardent stares as the elevator doors slid shut.
    According to his file, Justin Friland was born toward the end of the twentieth century. Meeting him in the flesh, Paula couldn’t tell, and she normally prided herself in spotting the telltale mannerisms of the truly old. He didn’t have any. His effusive good nature matched his handsome adolescent appearance perfectly. Like the Foundation members down in the lobby, he gave Paula an incredulous smile as she came into his office.
    “Director, I appreciate you seeing me,” Paula said. “Especially