by C M Dancha
20
“I hate to speak ill of the dead, but Conway’s kid blowing up is great news. The only thing which would have been better is if Conway was on that transport. What was the kid’s name again?”
“His name was Joseph Conway, Secretary-General Miller”
“Ah, yes. I remember that twerp. He made a career of getting under everyone’s skin. He constantly caused trouble among the Assembly members. I was so happy when he disappeared. When was that? About eight to nine years ago? Ya know, I never understood where the kid went. One day he was here and the next, he was gone. I was so happy he was gone I didn’t give a damn where he went.”
Milliard Miller sat across the table from Conway’s Mentat. Both were sipping from cups containing the rare Fuchi herb drink. The Fuchi tree only grew in a remote mountain area of Tibet. Its coveted leaves only sprouted every three years. They were dried and ground into an herbal powder which many people believed to be a fountain of youth. Besides slowing down the aging process, the drink had an unusual effect on human thinking. Earthlings swore their brains worked faster and better when they drank Fuchi. It was the favorite drink of those who relied on creativity and intelligence to make a living. Most artists, musicians, scientists, and authors found a way to afford the rare powder.
The Mentat had a rare half-day off. Conway thought he did such a wonderful job interviewing the Lead Trifect about Joseph’s disappearance, he gave him a mini vacation. It was the perfect time to update Secretary-General Miller.
Miller was a man of fifty-something who exercised at least three hours a day. He looked ten years younger than his age. He still had a full head of hair which was the same color it was as a teenager. He was slim and trim and had the body of a professional male model. His goal was to live for a hundred and twenty years. He came from a good gene pool. Both his parents lasted until their mid-nineties. All he had to do was last twenty-five years longer than they did. He figured it would be a breeze.
His entire career was spent in government service. He devoted his life to doing the people’s business. At least that’s what he liked to say on the campaign trail when he was stumping for re-election. He was uncommitted to a partner because he enjoyed sex with a variety of beings. He was very selective in the mates he chose. His career came first. One bad sex partner could tarnish, if not end, a distinguished thirty years of government service.
The Mentat believed Miller was more trustworthy than Conway. He tried not to allow emotions to cloud his opinion of humanoids. But when it came to comparing these two men, there wasn’t a choice. Conway was a scumbag. Miller was a decent humanoid who had a better grasp of reality. He was egotistic at times but also displayed humility when necessary. He was straightforward and rarely used underhanded tactics to discredit his opponents. The most important part of his personality was that he hated Conway. He had nothing in common with the man and knew that for the sake of Earth and the universe, Conway must be stopped.
“Ya know, I can still remember the day when Conway told the Assembly his kid was alive on the same planet we were negotiating with. What a coincidence. In retrospect, it was too much of a coincidence. I almost crapped my pants when Conway said the CASETA Agreement was on hold until his kid was released from Yanda and sent back to Earth.”
Miller paused and shook his head back and forth remembering that horrid day when one dumb-ass kid became the major factor in negotiating an important contract between two powerful planets. If the Assembly had been using their collective brain, they would have told Conway to go screw himself. The kid should never have been a pawn in such an important negotiation. But now, the tables had turned against Conway. His kid was no more. He was blown to smithereens somewhere in deep space. There was a god after all.
“Are you sure Conway’s kid is dead?”
“Before I talked with the Lead Trifect this morning, I was ninety percent sure he was dead. Now, I’ve lowered that estimate to around fifty percent. The Lead Trifect had a man on the transport when it blew up. The recording he made never shows Joseph Conway on the ship. The Yandan charged with bringing the young Conway back to Earth isn’t in the recording either.”
“How long was the Lead Trifect’s man on the ship before it blew?”
“Only a few minutes, Secretary-General.”
Miller squinched his eyes thinking about what the Mentat described. “That's strange, but it doesn’t prove the kid wasn’t on the transport.”
“No, it doesn’t. That's one of the reasons why my probability rating is still at fifty percent. Also, the transport had the same identification number and flight signature. ID numbers can be faked but I’ve never heard of a fake flight signature.”
“That’s very interesting. I guess this situation can be summed up in a couple short sentences. A Yandan transport blew up in deep space and Joseph Conway may or may not have been on it. If he wasn’t, then where the hell is he? For that matter, do we care where he is?”
Miller rubbed his forehead hard hoping to resolve these questions. He hated situations which could be maybe-this-or-that. He liked black or white. He hated possible theories in the gray zone.
“I just thought of something. Who was flying the transport?”
“The Lead Trifect claims the recording doesn’t show who is in the pilot gyro chairs. When he answered that question, I picked up stressf in his voice. I’m sure he was lying but he wouldn’t say who or what he saw, if anything.
He didn’t want to ask the Mentat the next question but knew he must. “Have you told Conway everything you told me?”
“Yes and no. I don’t think he understood the implications of what I was saying. I think he assumes the kid was on the transport. I tried to stay as vague as possible, but I had to be specific about most things.”
“Okay. I guess there’s nothing we can do about it. Even if the kid is dead, I don’t think that’s going to change Conway one bit. He’s possessed and determined not to sign the CASETA Agreement. I’m not sure what he’s up to but it can’t be anything good.”
The Mentat agreed with Miller’s assessment. Whether Joseph was alive, or dead, wasn’t going to change Prefect Conway’s plans. Signing CASETA with Yanda was kaput. Something else was in the works. Something which Prefect Conway thought was more beneficial. It may not benefit Earth more, but it would enrich Prefect Conway’s status and pocket.
“Is there anything else I should know about?”
Before the Mentat could respond there was a knock at the door. Miller started to get out of his chair when the door opened a bit and Beth poked her head into the room.
“Beth, my dear. Please come in. Would you like a cup of Fuchi?”
“Why yes, that would be wonderful.”
Millard Miller held Beth’s chair for her as she sat and then went to the service bar to pour her the cup of Fuchi.
“Darling, you look stunning today. Living with the pig agrees with you.”
Beth's half-smirk reminded the Mentat of the family cat who tried to hide eating the pet parakeet even though there were feathers hanging from his mouth.
“Yeah, it’s a real treat. He must be the most obnoxious person in the universe. God, I’ll be glad when….”
Beth stopped in mid-sentence and looked back and forth between Miller and the Mentat. She had seen the Mentat but didn’t give it a second thought. She was so accustomed to seeing him around Conway’s residence that running into him at Miller’s seemed natural. But now she wondered what she could say and what he was doing in Miller’s private office.
“That’s okay, my dear. You can speak freely in front of the Mentat. In fact, he was filling me in about the death of Conway’s kid before you dropped in. I believe it’s fair to say that this gentleman is on our team. Would you say that’s a fair statement, Mentat?”
The Mentat looked at Miller and debated what to say. He just learned that Conway’s lover, Beth, was in alliance with Millard Miller. He was surprised, very surprised. He could not ever recall seeing the two of th
em say two words to each other. Yet, here they were openly discussing a man they hated. Should he come out in favor of their betrayal or play it conservatively? After all, if this woman could sleep with Conway and then stab him in the back, how much could she be trusted?
As though Miller read his mind, he leaned over and patted the Mentat’s leg. “Hey, that’s okay. You don’t have to answer that question. I know this must be a huge surprise for you. There are some other things you’ll learn once you get on the anti-Conway bandwagon, but that can wait. Take some time and think about this. We can use you, but I’m not going to force you, or anyone, to do something they don’t agree with.”
The Mentat could tell that Miller was completely truthful. However, that didn’t help him make the decision he now faced. Should he join the anti-Conway group and do their bidding, or honor the contract his home planet signed with Prefect Conway?
“Yes, thank you, Secretary-General. It would definitely be beneficial if I took some time to consider your words.”
“You do that, sir.” Miller and the Mentat rose from the table and started to the door. The Mentat loved the fact that Miller referred to him with titles of respect. There was something about the titles, sir and gentleman, which made the Mentat feel special. If nothing else, they made him feel like a humanoid. He thought about a day in the future when he might have human friends.
“Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?”
The Mentat debated with himself. There was one last tidbit of information he planned to pass on to Miller but wasn’t sure if the timing was right. He decided to take a chance and said, “I’ve figured out why the Prefect doesn’t want to sign the CASETA Agreement with Yanda.”
Miller put his arm around the Mentat as they walked. A weak smile crossed his face. “Let me guess. He’s already made arrangements with the planet Florid to sell our sulfur and carbon toxic gases and compounds to them. Am I correct?”
The Mentat stopped suddenly and faced Miller. “You’re right, sir.”
“I know. Our girl, Beth, figured it out a couple weeks ago. But, thanks for the confirmation. It’s always nice to have information validated by a second source.”
The Mentat looked over at Beth who was still sitting at the table. She put down her Fuchi cup, gave him another Cheshire Cat smile and waved good-bye.
Miller reached to open the door. “Crap. I’ve forgotten the kid’s name. What’s his name again?”
“Joseph Conway.”
“Thanks. I better write that down, so I don’t forget. I’m sure old man Conway will want me to give the eulogy at the kid’s funeral. And, of course, there are flowers to send and condolences and all that other bullshit. That’s the downside of being the Prefect’s closest friend.” Miller and Beth started laughing. Taking sarcastic shots at the Prefect was one of the few ways they had to stay sane.
Miller patted the Mentat on the back as he ushered him out the door. “I’ll talk with you later, sir.” Miller watched the Mentat walk away. It was very noticeable how the Mentat reacted when he was called "sir". He stood a little straighter and taller. Simply giving the Mentat a bit of respect was winning him over. Miller was very confident the Mentat would join his anti-Conway group.
“Well, dear. What do you think?”
“That Mentat better keep his mouth shut or both our asses are cooked.”
“Don’t worry, my dear. He’ll come over to our side soon enough. What do you think about the kid getting shredded to bits in space?”
“Considering what he did to me, I hope he died a long, painful death. Good riddance.”
“Well, I doubt there was much pain if his ship blew up.”
Beth stopped sipping and put her cup down. “What do you mean if he was blown up?”
“There’s a small chance he wasn’t on the ship. The Mentat told me about his communication with the Lead Trifect this morning. Apparently, there was a Yandan invasion trooper on the ship when it vaporized. From the time the trooper entered the transport to the time it blows, there’s no Joseph Conway or escort Yandan on his transmission.”
“Well, who was flying the transport?”
“That’s exactly what I asked the Mentat. All he knows is that the Lead Trifect answered that question dishonestly. He might know who was piloting the transport but isn't telling.”
“Shit, shit, shit.” Beth took her Fuchi cup and threw it across the room. It broke into a hundred small pieces and shards. Miller didn’t say a word about the cup or her eruption. He understood and sympathized with her frustration.
It took Beth a couple minutes to calm down enough to talk. “I wondered why the pig was in such a good mood this morning. I guess I know now. He suspects the same thing you, the Mentat and Lead Trifect do. That prick-of-a-son somehow escaped death again. Well, have you got any ideas, Millard?”
“Yes, I’ve had a contingency plan ready for some time. It might be time to launch it. If the kid is still alive, his ship couldn’t be any more than four to five light years away from Earth now. But, let’s wait a little while longer. I want to see what else happens. Make sure you keep close tabs on the pig. Watch everything he does and listen carefully to what he says.”
“Does your contingency plan include me?”
“Absolutely. What you’ve already endured is beyond description. You deserve some pay-back.”
21
“That was an interesting conversation.”
“That, my brothers, is known as a fishing expedition. It’s quite popular among Earthlings when negotiating. This is the way it works. When one Earthling wants to know what another Earthling knows, he'll ask a series of innocuous questions. All the questions are on the fringe of the real issue. If done correctly, the questioned Earthling will be lulled into giving up valuable information. That information is then used to strike a better bargain. It can be quite an effective negotiating tactic.”
“Did it work with you, Lead Trifect?”
“Yes and no. Both of us were fishing for information. I'm sure Conway told the Mentat what questions to ask me and how to ask them. That, combined with the Mentat’s ability to detect dishonesty, got Conway a fairly accurate picture of what we know. I went along with this charade because I wanted to know what Conway knew about his kid and Officer Morg. Based on the questions the Mentat asked, I’d say Conway isn’t sure if the kid is alive or dead. Most likely, he’s leaning toward alive. He’s also trying to figure out what to do next. Should he go looking for the kid or sit and wait. I'm sure he's as confused as we are about what happened on the transport.”
“So, what do you think happened to Morg and the Earthling?”
The Lead Trifect shook his head back and forth. “Brothers, I don’t know. My guess is that the kid and Morg may have survived, but I don’t know how. There's a good chance we'll find out for certain within a couple days.”
“What about the CASETA Agreement? Do you think they are reconsidering it?”
“Brothers, it was a ruse to get information from me. Conway has no intention of signing the Agreement. He has other plans. I wish I knew what. It would make my decisions a lot easier if I knew what he was planning.”
Without looking at his underlings, he asked, “Do we have any way of getting that information? Do we have any spies within Earth's hierarchy? Can we buy the information from someone there? How about other members of their Assembly? Will any of them sell out Conway?”
He didn’t bother to look across the table at his underlings. He could tell from the silence this was another opportunity missed by his brother Trifect.
There was no use dwelling on the Mentat communication. It netted the Lead Trifect exactly what he thought it would; a big fat zero. And, using espionage this late in the game to find out what Conway was up to was another waste of time.
He spun his chair and turned his back on the two Trifect. “Brothers, have you found the 38 yet?”
There was dead silence. There was no sense looking at them. He could feel their answer.
<
br /> “Have our sweepers or any other ships found wreckage from the transport in the quadrant where it blew up?”
Again, no response. He turned back toward them. They were so easy to read. Their expressions screamed a giant no for each question.
It had been one of his worst mornings since taking over as Lead Trifect. It didn’t seem like anything was moving toward a resolution. He felt like a juggler with a dozen balls in the air and no idea what to do with them. He didn’t know for sure if the Earthling and Morg were alive. Should he plan an invasion of Earth to get the gases and compounds Yanda needed? Or, should Yanda write off Earth and let that fool Conway lead his planet to self-destruction? Their best military weapon had disappeared. Someone had it, but who? Things were not going well, and he wondered if it was time to pull the plug and retire. Even that thought was depressing. Who the hell would he turn the reins of power over to? The other two Trifect weren't competent enough to be office clerks.
He could walk away from his position and retire anywhere he wanted. His estate was massive, but there was one thing stopping him. In the lower depths of his being, he felt that something was very, very wrong. It had been growing steadily over the past year or two. It was far greater than missing transports and experimental ships. It dwarfed finding the correct toxic gases to load into the Yandan atmosphere.
Something big and evil was coming toward Yanda. What it was and when it would arrive were the unknowns. His gut told him it was real and out there somewhere, waiting to pounce. That’s why it was imperative the Yanda Federation not mess up. And, that was the main reason why he couldn’t walk away from his position now. Everyone on his home planet and within the alliance depended on him for safety and security. He tried to remain humble, but there was no one else in the alliance who could lead by making sound decisions. As much as he wanted to pack his duffle bag and leave, he couldn’t.
