A Dubious Peace

by Olan Thorensen

  “I’ve done the same—hopefully not too many times. The instance that stands out in my mind, and that I’m constantly aware of, is when I sent men on a dangerous mission with little chance of success. I was mad. The Narthani had attacked the home of Maera’s family to kill her father, the Keelan hetman. Maybe they were after me, too, and I happened to be at the house that night. We fought them off, but Maera’s sister Anid was killed, and her sister Ceinwyn got that scar on her face. Several workers and guards were killed and wounded, and Maera’s father lost a leg. Maera and Aeneas could have been killed.

  “I didn’t think rationally. I wanted to strike out against the Narthani, pay them back for the attack. I fixated on a high-ranking Narthani officer I thought was the most vulnerable, but I wasn’t thinking straight. By then, I had more credits with the people than I realized at the time. I convinced five men to try to assassinate this officer in a city occupied by thousands of Narthani soldiers. I didn’t order them. I told them the mission was strictly voluntary, but in retrospect at least some of them might have taken it as an order. And I suppose anger factored in for the men. The Keelan family is loved and respected by the clan, and everyone was furious.

  “Anyway, I sent the five men off to do something that within a day or two I wanted to cancel, but it was too late. They were lucky. Only one of them was killed. A man named Ulrith. I didn’t even know his name at the time. I learned it later when I looked into caring for his family.

  “Amazingly, they actually succeeded in killing the Narthani officer. Everyone accepted that my decision was right, and if anything, it only increased my prestige. I said they were lucky, and that’s true, but so was I. In retrospect, the more likely outcome would have been all five men dying. The four who returned were Balwis, Wyfor, Synton, and a man named Fixton.

  “As you know, Balwis ended up the new hetman of the Preddi Clan, where Wyfor is the clan’s police chief, what they call chief magistrate. Synton is one of the permanent guards for me and my family. More than that, I count all three as friends. I didn’t have anything more to do with Fixton, but he’s a local magistrate in one of the Preddi districts. Now, I seldom make decisions involving people without thinking about how blindly I focused on what I wanted without considering the consequences to other people.

  “What I’m getting at, in a roundabout way, is telling you that you can’t let past mistakes dictate the future—assuming you learned from the past mistakes. I need you to look at several of the ongoing projects and make suggestions. To be honest, I don’t know what you can do. Maybe you’re a lousy engineer, and we’re no better off than with me. However, my hope is that you can take over these projects and solve problems as yet beyond me or anyone else.”

  Mark shifted uneasily in his chair, one hand drumming on his thigh. “I don’t know if I want to be involved in running projects. It didn’t work out so well the last time.”

  “You’ve already been working on major projects since Tregallon. What do you think planning on children is, if not a major project? And the ranch you planned with Maghen. You talked about how you worked to save for your own place. That’s a long-term plan. Yes, some of our projects might involve larger numbers of people, but it’s a matter of scale, rather than commitment.”

  “And what if I don’t want to fit into your plans? What if I want to go someplace to have a peaceful life with my family? Are you going to put pressure on me or even try to compel me?”

  “I’ll be honest. I want you to do this voluntarily. No . . . more than that . . . with all your energy and intellect. We both know that’s the best way. As for compelling you to cooperate, who can say what could happen in the future? What if you were here on Caedellium while we fought the Narthani, and you knew something that would potentially swing the results in our favor, but you didn’t want to cooperate. What do you think I should do? Put it from another perspective. What would you do in my place?

  “I also shouldn’t have to remind you that this world can be a dangerous place. We drove the Narthani off Caedellium, but it was at a cost of tens of thousands of lives, Caedelli and Narthani. I don’t have direct experience like you with other people on Anyar, but I’m told if the Narthani weren’t the major problem, there are the Iraquiniks to the east. From what I understand, they’ve had a fractious history only eased by the Narthani threat. To our south, my limited experience with Landoliners makes me cautious. The Fuomi, although allies for the moment, might have their own agendas I could worry about.

  “For the moment, Caedellium is safe, but considerable effort is going into making the island as nasty a morsel as possible if anyone tries to take it over again. That’s my vision . . . or maybe I should say my hope, that Caedellium can prosper enough to defend itself, help other peoples at least hold the Narthani in check, and maybe contribute to pushing them back. Even that wish might not be necessary. If had my wish, we’d never be involved with them again. What I really want are peace and to advance Anyarian science as far as I can in my lifetime. To be honest, I’d rather spend my time developing the University of Caedellium than being Paramount. However, I accept that my wants unfortunately can’t trump reality. I’m hoping you’ll come to the same realization.

  “For now, there’s no urgency. You’re free to do what you want within the constraint of not talking about how any of us got to Anyar. If you want to disappear on some remote ranch, I can arrange that. I can help you find a place and buy it for you. But think about it. You had grand ideas about what could be introduced here. It didn’t work out, but you started literally naked with no support structure. Here it would be completely different. My resources aren’t unlimited, and I have other responsibilities, but you would be in a safe and supportive environment. Besides what’s available on Caedellium and depending on the innovations, the Fuomi might provide significant support. The same might eventually happen with some of the Iraquinik and Landolin states.

  “Naturally, I have ideas about what you would work on, and I would have significant input, but I expect we would agree most of the time. You’d have the opportunity to spend time on at least some projects I’m not as enthusiastic about.

  “Mark, think about all this. We can talk again. No matter what, I expect I’ll want your ideas on specific projects. That much, anyway, I think you’ll owe me.”

  Mark was silent for a moment. He was angry about Yozef’s statement that he would under some circumstances apply pressure or even a level of intimidation to force Mark’s cooperation. He needed to think and clear his head. At the same time, he appreciated the clarity and honesty. He nodded.

  “You can be sure I’ll think about it,” he said more gruffly than he intended and stomped away without words.

  Carnigan and Synton had waited for several hours within sight but out of earshot. They saw Mark’s abrupt departure and walked over to where Yozef stared at the back of his countryman.

  “Looked to me like you two weren’t getting along as much as before,” said Synton.

  Carnigan grunted. “I think Yozef finally got around to telling Kaldwel his future on Caedellium isn’t totally up to him.”

  “Well . . . what did he expect?” asked Synton. “From what I’ve witnessed, Yozef’s been sucking up to him something fierce ever since he and the weird-looking woman arrived. Seems reasonable he should pay us back somehow.”

  “I may not have handled the conversation as well as I should have,” said Yozef. “He knows a lot of things I don’t and could be invaluable to Caedellium. I guess I hope he’ll enthusiastically volunteer to help. I still believe he’ll come around once he thinks it over.”

  “You’re probably right,” said Synton. “You usually are.”

  Carnigan gave a deep groan. “Merciful God, Synton! Don’t tell him that! He’s already acting too much like everyone should do what he says without asking questions.”

  “That’s not really true . . . is it?” said Yozef plaintively.

  “Well . . . only sometimes,” Synton reassured him. “But I ov
erheard a little while you switched between Caedelli and English. You think this Kaldwel is going to be useful?”

  Yozef smiled. “I do. He’s what my people call a ‘mechanical engineer’—someone who is expert with mechanical devices. There’s so much I can’t do that I hope he can. Too bad Heather will probably not be as useful. She’s a musician. If I could’ve gotten total wish fulfillment, Heather would be a medicant. Maybe even a surgeon.”

  “When do we go back home?” asked Carnigan. “And are the new Amerikans going with us?”

  “That’s still to be determined. I’ve given Mark things to think about that may him take a few days before we talk again. Until then, I’ve got meetings to attend. The ones dealing with Preddi will give me a good idea whether the amalgamation of the different clan factions is going well and if Balwis needs more help. I’ll also have to meet the representatives showing up from Landolin and Iraquinik.”

  “The ones with Balwis should be tolerable,” said Synton. “He’ll give you his blunt opinions whether he thinks you want them or not. He’s not much for nonsense either. If he can’t get Narthani-haters to work with ex-Narthani, then this whole Preddi idea might as well go into a shit pit.”

  CHAPTER 6

  WATCHFUL EYES

  The planet teemed with two distinct but compatible evolutionary ecosystems, a state extraordinarily rare. However, the artificial intelligence (AI) observing Anyar was not programmed to query how this had happened. It had been in position for nearly six thousand of the planet’s orbits around its sun, tabulated from the moment of the AI’s activation by the creators who then departed, not to return until three times in recent years. Each of the three visits involved depositing one or two sentient bipeds of the apparent same species as inhabited the planet.

  The only physical contact the creators had had with the planet’s surface confirmed that one of the systems was not native to the planet but had been transplanted there from another source, an identified planet whose organisms had been taken to five other planets, including the one orbited by the AI. On each of the five planets, the sentient bipeds developed civilizations and technologies that generally copied those on the sentients’ original planet.

  The creators’ realization that another advanced race had performed the transplantations for reasons unknown triggered the creators to abandon further surface contact with the six planets—the original source and the five transplant targets. Cloaked geosynchronous satellites and AIs continued observations while making an effort to avoid detection by either the bipeds or the “Others.” The exception was for the original planet, where the creators themselves studied the bipeds.

  The concealed observation without physical contact continued for 732,211 pulse periods of a Cepheid star used by the creators to mark time. At that point, a series of seemingly impossible coinciding computer failures resulted in a creator spacecraft colliding with a biped aircraft above the bipeds’ original planet. The creators saved a fraction of the aircraft’s occupants, leading to a conundrum. The survivors were injured to degrees varying from moderate to requiring extensive biotechnological repair.

  Convoluted ethical arguments among the creators settled that they had a limited obligation to the survivors. However, the creators started with no knowledge of biped biochemistry and physiology. After they repaired the most severe injuries, too much time had passed from the collision to the bipeds’ potential reappearance. Even though the survivors were unconscious during repairs and would have no explanation for their survival, their reappearance would raise too many questions, as would survivors appearing after different time lengths.

  If the survivors could not return to their planet’s surface, and staying with the creators was never an option, all that was left was to either take them to the other five planets or terminate their existence. The creators dispersed the survivors who chose exile to different planets and far from one another on each planet. The aliens deemed their potential impact too minor to change the course of the different biped civilizations and their story too unbelievable for each planet’s inhabitants. Once the transplanted bipeds’ lifespans ended, there would be no further link to the creators. At that point, the creators believed their obligation would be complete. Whether or not the transplanted bipeds survived was left to chance and their own abilities.

  However, after the creators discovered the existence of another sentient race, they felt an emotion they had not experienced for millennia. Fear. Who were the Others? What was their purpose in transporting a fraction of a biosphere, including a sentient race, to other planets? They knew of a dozen sentient races, all restricted to their own planets or solar systems. There had been no examples of other races spreading beyond their origin . . . until now with two examples, the Others and the bipeds. The creators had found evidence of other races long dead, some for tens of millions of years. It became part of their ethos that they were unique—a race who avoided what led others to vanish and who spread from their home system, thereby proving the creators’ special status. Until now.

  Thus began their remote observations to gather information on the bipeds and to monitor the possibility that the Others might eventually return to observe the consequences of the transplantations. For the planet orbited by one AI, twenty satellites watched for signs of the Others.

  Following the last of the three visits, the creators gave new instructions to the AI. It was to continue previous observations, with an emphasis on the locations of the five delivered bipeds. Years passed with no noticeable impact on four of the five locations. For the fifth, a battle among the bipeds inhabiting an island was unusual but not significant enough to warrant further investigation. Then another battle ensued, larger than before. This, too, would have been only noted without further action if not for evidence of balloons, chemical flares, and hydrocarbon-based incendiaries—all novel developments. Subroutines were triggered, dormant capabilities awoken, and the AI alerted the creators to anomalous events associated with one of the bipeds. The creators responded for the AI to increase surveillance of the island and attempt to locate the biped using images and data on the subject. The creators would return in approximately eleven of the planet’s years to assess the situation. They would then decide whether direct action was required to return the planet’s condition to one without outside impact and no evidence of the creators.

  The AI deployed a cloaked drone to carry out closer examination of the planet’s surface, emphasizing the five bipeds’ locations. Most of the drone’s time was spent over the island, where it accumulated visual identification of individuals and their apparent social interactions. The drone was able to hover while using facial recognition to mark locations and nearby individuals and send data to the AI, where a partition modeled the island’s society. The target was identified on about a quarter of the days observed, enough to establish routines. The target’s location centered in one city and two locales that were frequented more than others. Extended periods without identification were assumed to be when the target traveled around the island where identification was sporadic.

  The satellites recorded a steam engine explosion and relayed the observation to the AI, which, in turn, messaged the creators. A return message said the creators would move up the scheduled return to assess the situation.

  On three occasions, the drone followed the target as it moved elsewhere on the island. On a fourth occasion, the drone recognized the target as it left Location-1 in the inland city. However, it did not move to Location-2 within the same city but boarded an animal-drawn conveyance using rails and traveled southwest to a coastal city. There, the target went into a building where it remained unobserved until exiting in the company of other bipeds. The drone automatically captured images of those bipeds and transmitted the data in real time to the AI’s biped society partition for analysis. One specific facial image triggered an alert 15 milliseconds after reception by the AI. At a 61.4 percent probability, one of the target’s biped companions was another of the five biped
s deposited on the planet by the creators, this one on a continent distant from the island by 32 percent of the planet’s circumference. The drone had failed to find biped No. 2 for several years. The most likely explanation had been the biped’s death.

  The AI recognized the possibility of an invalid association because many of this planet’s bipeds had hair covering part of their faces, whereas the original images of the five deposited bipeds showed no such coverings. The AI used the original images to add different facial hair lengths and compared them to the new images. The potential match went up to 84.2 probability. The juxtaposition of the primary target with this second biped indicated biped No. 2 had somehow found the location of biped No. 1 and traveled to No. 1’s location. Discarded was the possibility of a chance meeting.

  The AI considered. Should it send this new information to the creators? It intuited that they would be deeply concerned. A single foreign biped was assumed to have no significant effect. Unaccounted for were possible synergisms should they meet. Then there was the question of how biped No. 2 had found the location of biped No. 1.

  The AI formulated a message and ordered the drone to obtain better images. When the two bipeds separated, the drone followed No. 2 to a building near a beach, then waited until it exited again, accompanied by three clean-faced bipeds of markedly different sizes. One was about the height of No. 2. The other two might have been child versions of this species, much shorter, slimmer, and having relatively longer hair. The drone approached the four bipeds closer than it had ever been to one of this species, the near proximity allowing it to probe the bone structure No. 2’s face. While the drone waited for the target biped to turn toward it, the drone automatically captured images of the three new individuals and sent the data onward. Then the target turned. Data was acquired, and the drone returned to a higher elevation to continue observing.