“The last two criteria are long term . . . something we’ll have to be aware of into the indefinite future. Checking on people who have moved will take work, but it is doable. There may be eight hundred thousand people on Caedellium, but I doubt if more than ten to twenty thousand would be suspects, based on their movements. For example, Welman, you can have each of your boyermen investigate who in his district has moved there from another province in the last few years. It may only be a few dozen or a hundred or so. He can then have their local magistrates look closer at each person.”
Orosz frowned. “That should be no problem for my clan. My family has always maintained careful records, but that’s not the case elsewhere.”
“Tomis is correct,” said Maera. “I doubt Nyvaks has hardly any records at all. I don’t know about the others, but it wouldn’t surprise me if half of the clans have incomplete records, especially for the last few years.”
“I acknowledge that’s a problem,” said Yozef, “but it’s a start. We have two clans where the problems may be greater than all the other clans put together.”
“Preddi and Brell,” said Morgan.
Stent’s face suggested, but only suggested, humor for the first time since he’d heard Morgan’s report. “I can just imagine Balwis’s response when he hears about this. He may have to investigate literally every single member of the Preddi Clan. Brell’s isn’t as bad, but it’s still more complex than the other clans.”
“We’ll deal with the complexities of the Preddi Clan later,” said Yozef. “The important thing at the moment is to develop a plan. I don’t believe this is the highest priority, but it’s something we have to work on over the next few months.”
He turned to Morgan. “Sissel, I’d like you to give this some thought and develop a plan to try and find more of these moles. I know you were planning to leave your position leading the MIU, but that doesn’t have to change. Gartherid and Isla can continue taking over while you shift to the mole problem. Maera and I will then look at it and communicate with the other hetmen before we make any changes or start an implementation. Would it be reasonable for you to have a plan proposal within . . . shall we say, three sixweeks?”
Morgan smiled. “I see it’s a reward for bringing bad news.”
The other attendees laughed—the tension momentarily broken.
“I won’t know for sure until I’ve given this some more thought, Paramount. I should be able to make an estimate by sometime tomorrow.”
That evening, after eating and putting the children to bed, Yozef, Maera, and Anarynd sat on the veranda of their house. It was a clear evening, and they could make out distant lights from Orosz City as they looked down the cleft in the mountains north of the capital. As Orosz City grew, the evening’s visible lights seemed to increase monthly.
“How worried are you about this, Yozef?” asked Anarynd.
“I can’t say that I’m worried. More concerned. After everything that’s happened to me in the last few years, my criteria for what to worry about has definitely changed, compared to my earlier life.”
“So, you don’t think this is serious? Maybe this person who you think is the Narthani spy is the only one?”
“I’d be surprised if that were the case. The fact that this Wyntal man lived such a quiet life, removed from any people or places where he might get information important to the Narthani, makes me think there must be more. Maybe many more.”
“In a way I wish you hadn’t told me,” said Anarynd. “Now I might wonder if everyone I meet could be a Narthani spy.”
“I know, Anarynd, but I want to be honest with you about what’s happening. Maera and I are at the center of it, but you’re an important part of our lives. You need to know as much as we can tell you. You’re also the informal regent for Odysius. I know you prefer to leave Moreland Clan affairs to Abbot Abelard, but I respect the effort you make to learn more and be aware of events.”
Anarynd leaned aside and patted Yozef’s leg. “Thank you, and I’m all right with the things the two of you can’t share with me.”
Fuomi Spies
Before Sissel Morgan finished a proposal, another meeting raised more concerns. Gartherid and Isla Kennrick sat side by side across the table from Yozef, Maera, and Tomis Orosz. They had given a preliminary report the previous month but had sent word they had more definitive information.
“So . . . it’s confirmed, I take it,” stated Yozef. “The Fuomi are developing a spy network throughout Caedellium.”
“I’m afraid so,” acknowledged Isla. “The ambassador’s aide, Taponi Namaki, is the central figure, but we think at least five other staffers are implicated, all of them among those who came with Koskanin. We’ve also identified eight Caedelli who are involved. Two live in Orosz City, and one is a rancher from central Orosz Province who has occasion to come to Orosz City every month or two. The other five are scattered in other provinces, but all have reasons to visit Orosz City. At this point, only one of the others travels enough to be a problem. He’s a driver for the train lines. So far, he’s worked between Orosz City and Moreland City, but the last month he’s been trying to move to either the line from Orosz City to Adris City or the line toward Preddi City.”
“Well, I think we can pass word to the line manager not to allow that,” said Maera, “but we need a plausible explanation if we don’t want to alert the Fuomi.”
“How long will that work?” asked Tomis. “But even more important is how confident are we that all the Fuomi and Caedelli spies are identified and can be kept track of?”
Eyes turned to the Kennricks. Gartherid answered. “We could never be completely confident with the Caedelli. That’s just the way it is. Of course, with the Fuomi it’s easier because we know exactly who they are, and their numbers are small.”
Tomis turned to Yozef. “What if you simply tell the Fuomi to stop it?”
Yozef nodded. “That’s always an option, but not yet, I think. At least as long as we think we’ve identified everyone involved. I’d like to see just how serious they are before we brace them that we’re aware. Of course . . . once we do that, we’ll have to take action. For the moment, I suspect it’s a matter of both sides pretending it’s not happening.”
Tomis scratched his beard. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
Yozef smiled. “Well . . . we know they’re spying, but we’re not telling them we know. Unless they think Caedelli are stupid, they have to believe we know about it, but they pretend they don’t know we know. Once it’s in the open, we’d have to formally restrict their movement more than now—not something that’s necessarily good for relations.”
“I suspect that’s exactly Ambassador Koskanin’s opinion of us,” said Maera. “Eina won’t say it directly, but I get hints that she believes he came with a preconceived low opinion of us and is too fixated to change.”
Yozef turned again to the Kennricks. “Still no indication Eina is involved in this?”
Both future co-leaders of the MIU shook their heads. “Not that we have any evidence,” said Isla. “Their relationship, if anything, seems to get colder each month. She’s being slowly cut out of all decisions and any reports sent back to Fuomon. Along with the personal animosity between her and Koskanin, her defense of Reimo Kivalian is making it worse. We’re almost positive Koskanin would have sent him back to Fuomon, except for her insistence that he’s too valuable a connection to important Caedelli.”
Yozef reflexively glanced at Maera, who had more control and appeared indifferent.
The Fuomi man had taken up with a Caedelli woman named Elsik, and by every indication, the relationship was serious. Maera had first speculated that Kivalian might decide to settle permanently on the island. They had refrained from pushing the issue . . . overtly, at least, although Yozef had let Kivalian know he would be more than welcome to become a Caedelli, and that important roles would be waiting for him. They believed the worsening relationship with the new ambassador would be sufficient m
otivation.
“That brings up the relationship between Saisannin and Kivalian, Yozef,” said Gartherid. “You alerted us that Saisannin had become distant from Kivalian after Koskanin arrived. Naturally, we aren’t privy to all their interactions, but every sign indicates that their relationship has deteriorated, for some reason.
Yozef frowned. “If Eina continues to defend Reimo to Koskanin, isn’t it contraindicated that she pushed Reimo away at the same time? I wonder if it’s not personal, but maybe Eina knows things she doesn’t feel free to share with him. After all, even if she is not in Koskanin’s good graces now, she is a Fuomi. She was trusted to advise Rintala, who commanded their expedition here, then later served as ambassador. We don’t know what Koskanin’s instructions are from Fuomon. Maybe Eina knows things she doesn’t share with Kivalian.”
“And even more so with us,” said Maera, “especially if the Fuomi have intentions we might not like.”
“So, what’s the course of action?” asked Tomis.
“No change, for now,” said Yozef.
“But what if the MIU misses one of their spies successfully finding out something you don’t want the Fuomi to know about? Then what?”
“Then the time will come for tough decisions. Being honest with the Fuomi is an obvious solution. The harder problem will be that if we still want to keep secrets, we’ll have to prevent spies from reporting back to Namaki.”
CHAPTER 23
NOW WHAT!
“Yozef, when did you believe what the aliens said—that we’d never get sick from disease?” Heather asked softly, out of the blue, while they walked down the cleft to Orosz City.
Toowin Kales and Gowlin Reese followed them twenty feet behind. Yozef occasionally made the walk if in the mood or he needed to stretch his legs. He had mentioned his intention last night at evening meal, attended by Heather and the Kaldwels, and she was waiting on the veranda when he opened the main door.
He glanced to the rear. Toowin and Gowlin were engaged in animated conversation and not listening to their charge. They would become more alert when they reached the outskirts of the city.
“I guess I just accepted what they said, and it turned out to be true. Of course, that’s negative proof. None of the three of us have experienced what we’d call an illness. I don’t know about major diseases elsewhere on Anyar, but on Caedellium, all I’ve witnessed are what we’d call some forms of respiratory diseases like colds. How about you? Anything in Sulako?”
She shook her head. “I was pretty isolated, but none of the people I could talk with mentioned anything. I guess I was like you. It just wasn’t something I thought about at the time.”
He glanced to his right and down at her. “So why the question?”
“It was something said at dinner last night that triggered a memory. Something I was going to ask you about. On the Buldorian ship that took us from Iskadon, a crewmember had a badly pockmarked face that looked like pictures I’d seen of smallpox survivors. I wasn’t vaccinated because they quit giving it before I was born. That means I’m not immune—at least, not back on Earth.”
“Smallpox!” exclaimed Yozef. “Here on Anyar? How could that be? Well . . . shit. I guess humans dumped here could have brought it with them. How old is smallpox on Earth?”
“I think as much as ten thousand years,” said Heather. “I did a science class report on smallpox my junior year in high school. “
“But you can’t be sure it was smallpox that scarred up the Buldorian’s face.”
“Well . . . no. I’m just saying it looked like pictures I’d seen.”
“Again, how about in Sulako?”
“Uh . . . nothing like the Buldorian. Oh . . . you’d see people with marks, but I guess I figured acne or something.”
An hour later, the Paramount sent runners with summonses to a group of people, and a meeting was held. Around a large table sat the three Amerikans, Tomis Orosz, Eina Saisannian, Reimo Kivalian, Abbot Ulyn Parwyn, and St. Wyan’s chief medicant, Kanlyn Wisworth.
“Thank you all for coming so quickly. Sorry if it seemed like an emergency, but Heather told me something that worried me, and I reacted perhaps in haste. However, if we have a problem, I want to take steps immediately. Heather . . . describe what you told me earlier.”
When she finished, Eina spoke first. “I think the Buldorian had suffered from ‘winter pitting.’ There are occasional outbreaks.”
Mark raised his right eyebrow. “Winter pitting? A disease?”
“Yes,” said Kivalian. “I’ve seen a local outbreak where I grew up in southern Fuomon. I was nine years old. My father said it came from a woman visiting her daughter after fleeing her own village where the disease was rampant. Our town was about a thousand people, and three-quarters of them got winter pitting.”
“What was the fatality rate?” asked Yozef.
“The percentage who died? Not high. I don’t know the exact number, but I doubt the total was more than twenty or thirty total. People who died got fever, chills, and fluid-filled bumps on their skin. For most people, it passed within a sixday but left pits.”
“From the pustules,” said Heather. “Uh . . . the bumps dried up and left scars.” She turned to Yozef. “Doesn’t sound like smallpox. Too low a fatality rate.”
“Smallpox?” asked Eina. “Do you have the same disease in Amerika but call it smallpox in English?”
“We have a similar disease,” said Yozef, “but haven’t had cases in many years.”
“Do any animals suffer from the same disease?” asked Heather.
Eina and Kivalian looked at each other. “I don’t think either of us knows the answer,” said Eina. “I can find out from the Fuomi medicants on Caedellium.”
“Please do that,” said Yozef. “What other diseases are on Anyar? It’s something I haven’t thought about. Caedellium is relatively isolated, which would help prevent diseases coming from the outside, but that’s changing.”
“There are others, but I would have the same answer. I’ll message our medicants and, depending on what they say and what you want, they could come here so you could question them in more detail.”
“How about mad fever?” asserted Kivalian. “Though it’s been maybe fifteen years since we’ve had reports of outbreaks.”
“Ah, yes,” said Eina, her face darkening. “Fuomon hasn’t suffered from that disease in many, many years, but other realms were devastated.”
Yozef’s buoyant mood of the previous sixdays receded even more. “All right, tell us about this mad fever.”
“The reports were terrible. The only way to stop it is an absolute block on anyone leaving an infected area and waiting until everyone who will die is dead, then waiting months more to be sure. The last outbreak in Fuomon was forty years ago.”
“Haalahbor Province,” said Kivalian. “I read it referenced, but I don’t know the details.”
“I’ve read a history of that time,” said Eina. “The entire Haalahbor Province was blockaded for almost a year. Only estimates of the dead were possible . . . maybe a hundred thousand. Some of those may have been starvation and other diseases once the society fell apart and there was no outside aid. It was one of the terrible ironies. Much of the Fuomon army was committed to the blockade, letting the Narthani make major advances into Haalahbor Province until they found out why our army had withdrawn. The Narthani then withdrew themselves, and for months there was a dead zone between Fuomon and Narthon where no one lived and no armies occupied. The Narthani were afraid of mad fever moving into Narthon. They feared the disease more than they did us.
“Our own troops had to shoot any person—man, woman, or child—who tried to flee the horror. I shudder to think what it must have been like for those poor people in Haalahbor and the troops.”
“What were the symptoms?” asked Yozef.
Eina shivered. “Like the name implies. The few reports came from medicants before they, too, succumbed. Victims experienced fever, convulsions, agitation, a
nd eventually paralysis, foaming from the mouth, and death in almost all cases. The reports were too few to confirm the exact fatality rate, but the number was so high as to be almost total.
“Apparently, in some outbreaks, a high percentage of the people went raving mad—which is where the name comes from. They would rage in their homes and in the streets, attacking other people and even animals.”
“I never heard about either disease in Frangel,” said Mark. “Just how common are they?”
“Neither is common, but they do exist,” said Eina. “Winter pitting is, as the name implies, most likely to occur during the colder months, particularly the farther north or south you go from the equator. The good news is that colder regions have lower populations, so the disease spreads slowly. Worse is in warmer and more populated places.
“Mad fever spreads rapidly, but the peoples of all lands learned centuries ago to take drastic measures when it occurred. There are medicant scholastics in Fuomon who worry that with no reported outbreaks for so long, it’s caused nations to forget what can happen. The war against the Narthani doesn’t help—one threat tends to make another seem less important.”
“All right,” said Yozef. “I think I’ve heard enough for now. Eina, please find out what you can from your medicants on Caedellium and send back a request to Fuomon for whatever records there are on these diseases. Medicant Wisworth . . . you’ve been silent.”
“Do not take my silence for not being worried. I know of both winter pitting and mad fever, but we have no records of either disease occurring on Caedellium. I take seriously your reference about Caedellium becoming more open. I hear from brothers and sisters in Preddi how they’ve seen many more foreigners than ever in their lives. I believe we need to consider this new reality.”
“I agree,” said Yozef. “For certain, we need to start examining the health of anyone who arrives in Caedellium from elsewhere.” He turned to Eina. “Do you have such measures in Fuomon?”
A Dubious Peace Page 33
