Free The Disestablishment of Paradise by Phillip Mann

found it difficult to accept that it was from a woman who until today she had regarded as an enemy. How little she had known
her. And how right the elegant Captain Abhuradin had been!
    Hera was still wobbly on her feet when she and Tania reached Central. It was half past seven in the evening, local time.
    An official from the Audit Unit, a strong-looking young man with cropped hair, was there to meet them. ‘Hi,’ he said. ‘I’m Kris. I’m your minder. I was one of the
team down on Paradise. Nice place. Sorry to hear what’s happened. But that’s progress, eh?’
    Once through the security doors, reporters were waiting. They pushed their instruments in front of Hera‘s face and shouted questions. It was as much as Tania and Kris, assisted by one of
the security guards, could do to shield Hera and get her into the safety of the lift leading up to the Space Council offices.
    ‘I wasn’t expecting that,’ said Hera when the sliding doors had hissed shut. ‘How did they know I was coming?’
    The young man shrugged. ‘This place leaks like a sieve when they want it to. Don’t worry. We’ve booked an apartment for you in the secure wing. You won’t be troubled
there.’
    ‘The secure wing?’ asked Tania. ‘Isn’t that just for people on trial?’
    ‘And VIPs,’ said the young man smoothly.
    A soft ringing tone announced that the lift had reached the apartment level. From there Kris conducted them to a pleasant suite of rooms on the outer ring of the torus, from which they had a
view of the cratered face of the moon turning slowly beneath them. ‘The hearing will take place at ten tomorrow, but I will come to collect you at nine. Breakfast will be delivered at seven
thirty. You can make your selection by call-up. Have a pleasant evening.’
    The door closed, and Tania, who had a streetwise and suspicious turn to her mind, counted to ten and then tried it. The door opened.
    Kris, halfway down the corridor, turned and smiled.
    At exactly nine a.m. the next morning Kris tapped on the door. The two women were ready.
    Kris conducted them to the main office of the Audit Unit, where Stefan Diamond – unsmiling as ever – handed her some forms. With him was a man Hera had not expected to see, a friend,
Senator Jack Stephenson.
    Jack Stephenson, formerly an Olympic swimming champion, was now an influential member of the Space Council, chairing several committees. He was also a loyal supporter of the ORBE project, and it
was largely due to his influence that the tourism proposals had been so roundly defeated.
    ‘I came as soon as I heard they’d brought you over to Central,’ he said. ‘I’ve no idea what this is all about.’ He gestured around, including Stefan Diamond
in the movement. ‘I imagine you have more pressing concerns than this, Hera.’ Then, in sudden irritation, he turned and addressed Stefan Diamond. ‘Get the women a coffee or
something, man. And then, please, I would like to speak to them for a few minutes in private.’
    Stefan Diamond shrugged and gestured to Kris, who took their orders and then departed. ‘I would remind you that the hearing begins in thirty-five minutes’ time,’ said Diamond,
‘so you have about fifteen minutes.’ And he left.
    Tania picked up the papers Diamond had left on the table. ‘If it is all the same to you, I think I’ll take a stroll outside and have a squiz at these. Then I can brief you,’
she said. ‘You talk in private.’
    Jack Stephenson took a small electronic monitor from his pocket and placed it on the table between them. Immediately it began to flash and emit a polytonal signal, indicating that recording
devices were operating. ‘And you can turn them off too,’ said Stephenson loudly. ‘And if I find out that any part of our conversation has been listened to, you’ll be
answerable to the Disciplinary Committee, which I chair.’ Seconds later the monitor became silent and its light faded.
    Stephenson looked at Hera for a