Clarion

by William Greenleaf

  Like Lon Bekman, Paul thought as he climbed 39

  _____ William Greenleaf 40

  out to stand on the roof. He remembered Ogram's words: High Elder Brill has ten more like him. He turned back to Frakes. How much does he

  really knowl "Sabre's got the idea Dorland came from this place Clarion. That's what the questioning was all about."

  "Let's say he's got a strong suspicion about it."

  "He never did say why Clarion is so important. I've never even heard of the place. It would help if we knew what he really wants."

  "That should be obvious. He wants to find Clarion. He thinks Mr. Avery knows the planet's stream coordinates."

  "He wants to ... find it?"

  Frakes's eyes flicked to Dorland, then back to Paul. "Sabre's not a bad guy, but you're right about one thing. He's too hung up on secrecy." He got out of the flyer and came around to Paul's side. He glanced around the parking area, then leaned back against the craft with his arms folded across his broad chest. "Clarion was landed about two hundred years ago. Beautiful place from what I've heard—a clear ninety-nine."

  "I'm going in," Dorland said abruptly, and turned to walk toward the building's entrance. Paul started to call after him, but Frakes was talking again.

  "Five hundred colonists set out for the planet on the sector ship Vanguard. That was back in the early years, when everyone was bailing out of Terra. Clarion should have been a great world. But it got lost."

  "Lost?"

  "The planet. Vanguard, five hundred colonists—

  the whole bunch."

  A vague memory surfaced—a story Paul had

  heard a long time ago. The early years, Frakes had called them, and Paul knew he meant the Expansion Era—the first century after the stream was

  CLARION 41

  discovered by Andrei Kohlmann. The k-stream opened an infinite array of pathways to the stars, and the cheap and instantaneous travel had resulted in explosive growth of colonies on dozens of worlds. Many stories had come from that era. Explorer ships had vanished with alarming regularity, and at least one sector ship had been lost in the void of the stream.

  But an entire planet?

  "How did it happen?"

  "Somebody erased the planet's navigation coordinates," Frakes answered. "We've never figured out how."

  "It was done on purpose?"

  "Presumably."

  "Why?"

  "Good question."

  Five hundred colonists. The concept was staggering: a planet colonized, then cut off from the rest of humanspace.

  "The colony—do you think it survived?" Then he realized the answer was obvious. "Bekman . . ." Frakes nodded. "This isn't the first time we found someone from Clarion. A couple of years ago a guy by the name of Callifer tried to land one of Vanguard's old scouts on Giant Forest." Giant Forest. Paul felt a chill. Frakes's eyes were on him, and it was clear he hadn't missed the significance.

  "Yeah. Anyway, he didn't make it. Callifer wasn't much of a pilot. He hit the ground too hard and pushed a stabilizer strut up through the stasis engine housing. The engine blew. By the time they dragged Callifer out he was pretty crispy, but still alive. The Guard called Security when they realized what they had. That's how me and Sabre got

  involved. We managed to get a few answers out of Callifer before he croaked. But not many." Paul took a moment to absorb what Frakes had 42 William Greenleaf CLARION 43

  told him. "That man Callifer—you said he was flying one of Vanguard's scoutships?"

  Frakes nodded. "Just like Bekman."

  "Then the people on Clarion know how to get back to the occupied stream."

  "I know what you're thinking," Frakes said. "If they know how to get out, they could tell us how to get to Clarion. They haven't, which means they don't want to be found. Callifer wouldn't give us the Clarion coordinates even though he knew he was dying."

  "Did he say why he had come out?" Frakes looked down at the pavement, scuffed at it with the toe of his boot, then returned his eyes to Paul. "He was looking for somebody. At the time we didn't know who."

  "You think he was looking for Dorland?"

  "Doesn't take much to figure that out, not after what happened today. We knew Mr. Avery spent a few years on Giant Forest. Callifer obviously knew it, too."

  Clarion. Cut off from civilization for two hundred years. Except for two men who had come out to look for Dorland Avery. Three, Paul realized. Selmer Ogram, too. Dorland himself had come from the planet, if Parke Sabre was right—and Paul had a feeling he was.

  "Two hundred years," he said. "You can't help but wonder what's been happening on Clarion all that time."

  Frakes made a noncommittal sound.

  "I'm sure SoSec would be interested in finding a planet that's been isolated that long. But why is Security so interested? This late in the game, there wouldn't be anybody left to prosecute for kidnapping. It's obvious the people who live there don't want to be found. Why not leave them alone?"

  "Because they won't leave us alone. After all, one of them attacked Mr. Avery—"

  "That won't fly, Captain. Doriand's safety is a concern to me and Jeffrey Hanes, but it's hardly a Security matter. He's a psi-player, not a political leader. You and Sabre are interested in Clarion, not in Dorland Avery."

  "Yeah, well—" Frakes rubbed the side of his nose again, cleared his throat. "I could get in a lot of trouble for telling you this."

  Paul waited.

  "Security has a couple of reasons for wanting to find the place. For one thing, it's a ninety-nine. People can breathe the air, drink the water. UNSA pumped a few billion udits into it already. They don't want to give it up. Habitable worlds aren't that easy to find."

  "Ninety-nines are still being landed—"

  "Yeah, about once a year."

  "Still, we aren't starved for space," Paul insisted.

  "I've seen colonized planets where the entire population still lives in two or three towns. We have plenty of room to expand. Why would UNSA go to all this trouble for another planet?"

  Frakes pursed his lips. "I said there were a couple of reasons. The other one's more complicated." Paul gave him time to make up his mind. Frakes looked around, cleared his throat again.

  "The sector ship Vanguard carried the usual research group. Even then, that was standard for new-landed planets. The group included an archaeology team." He paused again to glance toward the hotel entrance. "The arkies got a report out before the stream channel went dead. Said they found signs ofintelligents."

  It took Paul a moment to absorb the significance of that. Alien remnants had been found on only three of the hundreds of habitable worlds that had been explored by UNSA.

  "Everyone assumed the gents on Clarion were dead," Frakes went on. "The arkies reported ruins, 44 William Greenleaf

  and they didn't mention seeing live gents. Their report was very preliminary, but you'd think they would have noticed gents running around." Paul suddenly had a feeling he knew what Frakes was leading up to.

  "Before he died, this man Callifer started babbling about somebody called Lord Tern," Frakes said. "Took us a while to realize he was talking about a gent. A Tal Tahir, he said. We think that's what they called the gents. This Lord Tern—seems they'd made him into a god."

  Lord Tern. Selmer Ogram had mentioned that

  name.

  "But you said the arkies didn't see any gents." Frakes shrugged. "That's what they said. But according to Callifer, Lord Tern was very much alive."

  Then it came together, and after the initial shock of realization had subsided, Paul felt like laughing with relief. Stranded on an isolated world, the Clarion colony had built a religion based on the ancient ruins of the intelligents. Like Bekman, the man named Callifer was probably an official in the religious organization Ogram had called the Holy Order. He must have been devout at that, because to him, Lord Tern was as alive as the god of any monotheistic religion was alive to a true believer. Callifer's belief came across to Pa
rke Sabre as fact, and that was why Sabre was under the mistaken impression that the gents were still around. Paul knew this simple explanation could solve a lot of problems. But he also knew that it would create more of its own. He couldn't put Frakes straight on the issue without revealing that he'd spoken to Selmer Ogram. And if Parke Sabre found out about that, he would insist on trying to find Ogram. That would involve Dorland and Paul, and the mess would become even more complicated. Which meant he would have to keep his revelaCLARION 45

  tion to himself. With that sorted out in his mind, he realized that he still didn't have the answer to the question he'd originally asked.

  "Finding a misplaced planet is a job for the Explorers," he said to Frakes. "If you think there may still be gents, the Blue should be called in. And it seems to me that the arkies would have an interest in it either way. I still don't see where Security fits in."

  "The Archaeology Section's interested, all right," Frakes admitted. "They've been battling Sabre for first dibs on Clarion ever since Callifer decided to broil himself in that old scout." He paused again, and Paul knew he was making up his mind about something. "Callifer was out of his head when we got to him, like I said. But he kept talking about Lord Tern, and about some kind of machine Lord Tern had given to the people of Clarion. He croaked before we could find out more about it, but what he said made us think the machine was plenty powerful. He called it a chawka." He paused, cleared his throat. "We think it might be a weapon of some kind."

  "A weapon?"

  Frakes must have detected the skepticism in Paul's voice. "Sounds crazy to me, too. But—" He stopped, pursed his lips. He looked at the hotel entrance again, turned back to Paul. "The truth is, we know Hans Maiar is looking for the planet."

  "Maiar?" That only added more confusion. Hans Maiar was chairman of the Fringe Alliance.

  "We caught one of his couriers a few months ago," Frakes went on. "Maiar doesn't use commsets because he knows UNSA Security listens in on all the stream channels. The courier we ran down had a coded message for Maiar. We unraveled enough of it to know that it had something to do with the Clarion stream coordinates. Not the coordinates themselves—we weren't that lucky—

  46 William Greenleaf

  but a message about somebody who was zeroing in on them."

  "Why would Maiar be interested in Clarion?" Frakes shrugged. "An alien race. Maybe still alive. Think about it."

  Paul was gripped by sudden understanding.

  "Sabre wants to make sure the gents don't side up with the Fringe Alliance."

  The look on Frakes's face was enough to tell Paul he was right. "We're following up on the courier's message. We might be able to get something from that, but I'm not holding my breath. Sabre's afraid the Alliance might get its hands on Clarion first. And if the chaw-ka really is a weapon—"

  "Maiar might use it to attack UNSA planets?" Paul said. "Sounds farfetched to me."

  "Yeah, maybe you're right. But Maiar's a little crazy. If he gets his hands on something exotic like a gent weapon, he might get himself pumped up enough to attack, whether the weapon's that useful or not."

  That part wasn't so farfetched, Paul had to admit. Based on what he'd heard, Hans Maiar was looking for any excuse to start a war with UNSA. Frakes glanced down at his wristwatch. "I gotta get back. If you change your mind, or if you or Mr. Avery thinks of anything, give me a call." He looked out over the city. "Let's keep this chat between us. My job isn't all that great, but I'd hate to lose it." He winked and turned back to the Aire Vega without waiting for a reply. He slid across to the pilot's seat, and the gullwing doors lowered. A moment later the stasis engine hummed and the craft lifted away.

  Paul's mind was a jumble as he walked across the roof toward the hotel's entrance. He was sure of only one thing: he and Dorland hadn't seen the last of Parke Sabre—not if Sabre really thought

  CLARION 47

  Dorland had information that could make a difference in the struggle with the Alliance. The Fringe Alliance was a group of ninety planets along a strip of the stream that reached from the far side of the Omega cluster to the inner loop of the Kiros Spiral. The Alliance had started back when that part of the stream was on the fringe of colonized space. Humankind had long since spread beyond that area, but the Alliance had held together. Now it controlled an area of the stream that was heavily traveled, and when Maiar had begun charging high navigation fees for the use of the Fringe breakout zones—fees for the use of navigation equipment that had been confiscated from UNSA facilities in the Fringe—that was the last straw. UNSA demanded concessions. The Alliance refused, and began building a fleet of warships. By the time the UNSA triumvirate had gotten past the knee-jerk reaction and realized they had underestimated the determination of Hans Maiar and his Alliance command, it was too late. The Alliance had put together several dozen of the planet-buster kiester warheads and was already testing its strength. Maiar began visiting planets in adjoining sectors and politely inviting them to drop their UNSA affiliation and join the Alliance. Those that declined were made to regret it.

  It was all stupidity, Paul thought as he turned down the corridor to Dorland's room. The same kind of apelike territorialism that had killed untold millions down through mankind's bloody history. How much farther could we have progressed by now if we had only been able to get along with one another?

  War between UNSA and the Alliance would

  mean slaughter on a planetary scale. Everyone agreed about that, but nobody had come up with a way to cool the tension that hung between the two 48 William Greenleaf

  massive powers. Now, if what Frakes had told him was true, that tension had centered on a planet that had been isolated for the past two centuries. And for reasons that were still not clear to Paul, Dorland Avery was also part of that focus.

  Steph Hendrikson waited outside the door to Doriand's suite. Inside, Dorland sat on the low sofa in the front room, his back unnaturally straight, arms at his sides. He looked up when Paul walked in and without any preamble said: "I'll have to go back with Selmer Ogram to Clarion. Sabastian needs me."

  Paul resisted the impulse to react immediately and instead crossed the room to thejo dispenser in the comer. He took his time pouring himself a cup. With Dorland you had to take careful steps and test the situation before acting.

  When he turned back, Doriand's eyes were on him.

  "What about the tour?" Paul asked. "You said it yourself: you have five more shows to do."

  "We'll have to cancel them."

  Paul sipped hot jo. "Who's Sabastian?"

  "My uncle."

  Another surprise. "So you really are from this place. Clarion?"

  "I was born there, and lived there until six years ago. Then I ... had to leave."

  "You told me you came from Giant Forest."

  "I lived on Giant Forest for a year before I met you."

  Dorland had never offered much detail about his past, and Paul hadn't pressed him. After Doriand's fame as a psi-player had spread along the stream, news service reporters had tried to dredge up information about him with no better luck. One had even tried to bribe Paul for information about Doriand's past.

  CLARION 49

  "Your parents still live on Clarion?"

  "They're both dead." Doriand's eyes moved away from Paul to stare at the wall behind him.

  "High Elder Brill ordered their deaths." Paul sipped his jo and allowed a moment to pass before he asked the obvious question. "Why?"

  "They were heretics," Dorland answered, his eyes still fixed on the wall behind Paul. "My father disagreed with some of the High Elder's pronouncements. Disagreement is heresy, and on Clarion the penalty for heresy is death. But at least they were given a trial." His eyes moved to Paul. "Diana and Shari were not allowed even that."

  "Diana and Shari?" Paul felt a sudden, certain knowledge of who they were.

  "Diana was my wife. Shari was my daughter. She was six years old when Elder Jacowicz came to my house with his deacons and ki
lled her."

  "They murdered a six-year-old?"

  "They were after me, but I wasn't there. Jacowicz settled his score with me by killing the two people who were most important to me."

  "Because of your father?"

  Dorland shook his head. "Because of me." A wry, humorless smile crossed his lips. "I was also a heretic."

  "Now they've found you again."

  "It would appear so."

  Brill's got ten more like Deacon Bekman.

  "You're wanted for heresy. But you've been away from Clarion for years. Why would they want you badly enough to risk coming after you?" Dorland took a moment to answer. "High Elder Brill and Elder Jacowicz see me as a threat."

  "Why?"

  "Because I know some of their secrets."

  "What kind of secrets?"

  "How they maintain their grip over the people of Clarion."

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  50

  Paul decided to let that rest for a while. "We should level with Sabre. Tell him what he wants to know so he can protect you."

  "Nobody can protect me from the Holy Order." Paul sipped again from the cup. "Do you have the stream coordinates for Clarion?"

  Dorland shook his head.

  "Then how can we get there?"

  "We'll go with Selmer."

  "He's already gone."

  "Selmer wouldn't give up that easily. He'll be back tonight. Tell Jeffrey to watch for him in the auditorium and let him know I want to talk to him."

  "We'll never see him again. He said you had just one chance."

  "He'll be back."

  Chapter Five

  PAUL FELT A BRIEF INSTANT OF VERTIGO WHEN

  the scoutcraft broke out of the stream after the final skip. The bank of vidscreens above the control console flickered, and the screen in the center cleared with a view of a brownish-green planet.