Expatria: The Box Set by Keith Brooke Page B

to seize him and take him back. At one time he would have agreed, but not now.
    Back when Mathias had been under close arrest, Idi had been right. The new authorities did not know how to handle the situation. Edward had known that he couldn't allow a trial—they had no evidence—and he couldn't simply keep Mathias locked away while he stole the Primacy.
    So he had been allowed to escape.
    Sala, in her efforts to keep Newest Delhi from falling into chaos, had gone along; maybe it had even been her idea—it would smooth the transition and, at the same time, ensure that Mathias could escape to some sort of freedom.
    From the security of Orlyons, Mathias could see how neat the plot to let him flee had been. To any outsider, it would be apparent that he was the guilty party. Why else would he run? At the time, there had been no other option, but now, even Mathias saw that it had cast him in an unfair light. He could never return to Newest Delhi.
    Presently, he could make out the docks. He stood and stretched. Other skippers would be hurrying about at this stage, but Mathias was not like that. His crew was experienced—the best fisherpeople in Orlyons queued up to work under Mathias—and he preferred to let them do their own thing. He had never had any problems working this way, so he joined the crew, sorting the ice-boxes ready for unloading.
    Sukui was on the docks, watching Mathias unload his boat and sign chitties for a number of traders. Mathias did what he could to occupy some more time but Sukui waited patiently, writing the occasional note in his small book.
    'Sukui-san,' said Mathias, finally, clambering out of the cat. 'I hope your visit has been successful.'
    Sukui nodded slowly. 'I am told that you designed these twin-hulled vessels. Your talents have been noted.'
    Mathias didn't know quite what to make of Sukui's genial approach. 'Thanks,' he said. 'They're a lot more stable than the old ones. You need that when you have a catch like this.' He gestured at the remaining crates of iced fish waiting to be wheeled away from the docks. 'The sea was generous this time.'
    'You have an affinity with the sea.' Sukui nodded and visibly stopped himself from opening his diary to make a note. 'That is not a characteristic we share.'
    'The sea's always helped me think.' They began to walk. 'I used to spend a lot of time by the sea, when I was in Newest Delhi. If I ever wanted to get away I just made for the cliffs.' He sighed. 'That's a long way back, now.'
    Sukui gave Mathias a quizzical look.
    'I know,' said Mathias. 'Everyone who knows who I am eventually asks me the same question. No, I didn't kill my father. The Primacy didn't matter that much to me. I...' He faltered. 'The stories aren't true.'
    'In Alabama City we have a Project,' said Sukui. 'There are many people of a certain type. We are scientists. We have the favour of the Lord Salvo Andric, Prime of Alabama City. We work in many fields but our main goal is to restore understanding of the ancient technologies.' He stopped and smiled at Mathias. 'Let me be succinct, Hanrahan. You are lazy and unscrupulous—I have investigated you thoroughly—and your history is tainted with dishonesty'—he raised his hands to silence Mathias—'but you also have a vestigial talent. At some level you are gifted. There is a place for you in Alabama City. You must think about it. Talent must not go to waste.'
    Mathias was surprised by the offer. Sukui didn't like him, and it was clear that he did not trust him either. 'No,' he said, grinning, happy to overlook Sukui's insults. 'You're too generous.'
    'Think about it,' said Sukui. 'You may wish to reconsider.' The scientist started to walk away.
    At least Mathias had an explanation for why someone had been asking about him: it was Sukui, as crude with people as he was with the cards.
    Then the scientist stopped and turned to Mathias. 'I am growing old,' he said. 'I almost forgot: there is someone looking for you. She is, apparently,