She took up her knitting again and went back to staring into space while the computer before her worked furiously, making a list of everyone’s secrets. I armoured up and returned to the corridor, carefully locking the door behind me again. Because she did need protecting, after all.
* * *
I armoured down once I’d left the danger zone outside the room, and strode quickly through the corridors. People took one look at my face and hurried to get out of my way. Which was just as well. Gemma was right. I couldn’t just take her away, not when she was doing such necessary work. People might suffer or die if Gemma wasn’t there to protect them. Remove her from Lark Hill and I could be crippling this country’s ability to defend itself from terror.
But on the other hand, I was damned if I’d let the Government bully an old woman and keep her as a slave.
I stood outside the Commander’s door and knocked politely. His voice came through a grille above the keypad.
“Not now. I’m busy.”
I armoured up, smashed the keypad with my golden fist, kicked the door open, and strode into his office. He jumped to his feet behind his desk, outraged, and then his jaw dropped as he took in my armour. I stood before him, golden arms folded over my gleaming chest. The Commander started to reach for the gun holstered on his hip, and then had the good sense to stop himself.
“I should have known,” he said bitterly. “Of course they’d send a Drood. Who else could they trust with a situation like this . . . No wonder you had such authority!”
“What were all those alarms about?” I said innocently.
“An attack on our communications,” he said. “Not the first time it’s happened. The enemy is always testing us.”
“Which enemy?” I said.
“Does it matter? We’re spoilt for choice, these days. That’s why the Big Ear is so vital to this country’s defences.”
“You mean Gemma Markham.”
“Of course you’d find out. Drood. Yes, I mean her—and the device. She’s nothing without that machine. It made her the telepath she is today.”
“About that,” I said. “Gemma isn’t too happy with the way she’s being treated.”
His jaw dropped again. “How the hell did you get in to see her?”
“I’m a Drood, remember?”
“You can’t have her,” he said bluntly. “She’s ours. We found her; we made her! She’s a vital part of this country’s national security!”
“You don’t need her,” I said. “You’ve got my family. We’ve been protecting this country for centuries.”
“But we can’t always rely on you,” said the Commander, regaining some of his composure. He sat down behind his desk again. “You aren’t always here. You get distracted. Running off to fight your secret wars against God knows what and forgetting all about us. Our everyday concerns and dangers. But you don’t need to worry about Gemma Markham. We are aware there is a problem with her, and there have already been serious discussions, at very high levels, on how best to control her. The current thinking seems to indicate some kind of lobotomy. Surgical, chemical, psionic. For the moment, my superiors are understandably reluctant to do anything that might interfere with the goose’s ability to deliver golden eggs . . . But we’ll work something out.”
He was actually smiling, and I was just a moment away from kicking him through the nearest wall. But he was only the man in the chair, carrying out orders. No wonder the Prime Minister went bleating to the Matriarch when he saw his precious secret being endangered. Who else could he trust with a secret like this? Taking down the Commander wouldn’t help Gemma. So I just turned my back on him and stalked out of his office.
* * *
I armoured down and went wandering through the corridors again. I always think better when I’m walking. Several corridors later, I was no nearer an answer, so I contacted Kate and filled her in on everything I’d discovered.
“Where the hell did they find such a powerful telepath?” she said immediately. “One we knew nothing about?”
“I think that’s down to the device,” I said. “Whatever it turns out to be. It made her what she is.”
“Well, where did they get such a powerful device? That we knew nothing about?”
“It’s not like there’s any shortage of black markets for strange and unnatural tech,” I said. “The point is, what do you want me to do?”
“The Matriarch will have to consult with her advisory Council,” said