The Stars Are Also Fire

by Poul Anderson

  Another camera had been aimed at Sundaram in the control cabin of his vehicle. The presentation split in two, he on the left side of the screen, the Selenites on the right. Mostly the center of the latter was on Kaino, but sometimes it moved across his companions, as if to catch them in any sinful action. The two Lunarians poised panther-quiet, the terrestroid human shifted from foot to foot and scowled. Kaino himself gestured while he talked, as was his wont.

  “Thank you,” the colonel said stiffly “I take it you will conduct us to the settlement. Shal we proceed?”

  “Nay, we have but come to warn you against continuing.”

  “What?” Dagny suspected Sundaram registered more surprise than he felt.

  “As you must know from highview presently this road tunnels, dividing into several before any of them emerge. Belike you would lose the proper route.”

  “Not if we follow you.”

  Kaino grinned. “Ah, but you shall not. I said we came to give you a cautioning. Now we will turn about.” He shrugged in the Earth manner. “You can drive around this gate, yes. It is a mere boundary marker. But you cannot match our speed.”

  “So you refuse to guide us?”

  “We do, either to Zamok Vysoki or through it.” The castle that was arising yonder was already spectacular, but Dagny knew that it must be the iceberg-tip of underground hugenesses, and they shielded against instruments.

  “This is the constabulary of the Lunar Authority.”

  “And this is the domain of the lord Brandir and the lady Ivala, and I am his brother who speaks for them.”

  “‘Domain,’” Sundaram said low. “That word tells a great deal about your attitude.”

  “We are not hostile, Colonel. Nay, let me urge that you never thrust onward unguided. You know not the safe ways to fare. Satellite maps and inertial navigation reveal naught of the treacheries—rubble pits, crevasse skins, infall-broken screes that any disturbance may bring down in a landslide. For your sake, I pray that you turn about.”

  “Such hazards are exaggerated in … folklore.”

  “You seem more knowledgeable about this ancient world than us its dwellers.”

  “If we should come to grief, would you assist us?”

  “We respect the law that makes abandonment a felony first class, but we cannot promise to be aware of your trouble or able to rescue you if we learn.”

  Sundaram paused before he rapped, “You break the law as you stand there. Those are weapons you carry, are they not?”

  Kaino waved a hand. “Sporting devices,” he replied airily.

  “They look like none I have ever seen.”

  “Nay.” Kaino donned seriousness. “Weapons are not supposed to be in space, true, save small arms for police purposes. During the troublous years, we thought it advisable to develop better models. We do not yet feel assured that those years are quite behind us. It seems well to stay practiced in arms. But never gladly will we fire upon living targets.”

  “So you say.” The officer sat silent for a time. The broad forward port framed his head in blackness.

  “Let me talk to your brother,” he then said. “The … lord Brandir may be … realistic.”

  Kaino smiled. “You may call, certainly. If none respond, I will give you a code for his private quarters. I know not whether he is at the fasthold and willing to converse.”

  “He knows full well we are here,” Sundaram said roughly. “How many hidden monitors do you have spotted around these parts?”

  The presentation skimmed over the next few minutes. The connection had been made through a buried relay cable. A face appeared in the phone screen before Sundaram. In the screen that Dagny watched, it replaced the view of her son.

  Ivala, who had been christened Stephana Tarnowski, was Lunarian-beautiful, as white of hue as Brandir but with amber hair that fell to her shoulders, the big oblique eyes hazel, the countenance narrow and thinly chiseled. Iridescence played over the garment that sheathed her slenderness. Behind her a giant orchid bloomed against a crimson drape. Dagny caught her breath. This was the mother of her and Edmond’s grandson.

  “Greeting,” she almost sang. “The lord Brandir is absent—” was he? “—but he and I are as one.”

  Dagny admired Sundaram’s quickly regained equilibrium. “You are the lady Ivala? My pleasure, madame, I trust.” He named himself. “I am sure you realize what our mission is.”

  The woman nodded. “You would inspect throughout all installations and operations at Zamok Vysoki.”

  “Yes, exactly. Persons here at the gate are obstructing our passage. Please direct them to assist us.”

  Ivala’s lips curved upward. “In our earlier conversations, we explicitly did not pledge collaboration.”

  Sundaram stiffened. “You are now required to, by warrant of the Lunar Authority.”

  “You bear a search warrant?” Laughter trilled. “Has the Authority recognized these lands as our freehold? I am delighted.”

  “Kindly do not play games, madame.”

  The timbre grew cold. “Then shall I, rather than use the word ‘inspect,’ say, ‘Invade, interfere, imperil?’ We assert our right to refrain from partaking.”

  “That is not a claim the courts will grant.”

  “Are you a judge advocate?” she gibed.

  “I am an officer of the law, given a duty which I intend to carry out.” Sundaram paused again. When he spoke once more, it was evenly. “If you have nothing illegal to hide, why do you put yourselves in violation like this? Let my group conduct its survey, and we may well recommend that you receive a concession to regularize your status.”

  The fluid features congealed. “Rape of privacy is a violation.”

  Sundaram frowned. “I do not understand.”

  “Nay, you would not, would you?”

  “Do you—you people—do you positively refuse to cooperate? Would you actually resist?”

  “Some questions are best left unanswered, Colonel,” Ivala said.

  Kaino’s voice broke in: “Before we go further, I pray your heed. You inquired about our equipment. Wish you to see a demonstration?”

  Sundaram started where he sat. “What’s this?”

  “A demonstration. Maychance it will interest you, a military man.”

  Sundaram made his visage a mask. “Yes,” he said without tone. “It will, very much.”

  The view shifted outside. In kangaroo bounds, Kaino and his followers deployed. They unslung the things they carried and opened fire on the hillside. Silently, silently, an automatic rifle stitched pox across a bluff. Another blew chips off a boulder, set it rolling, whipped it on with slug after slug. A miniature rocket streaked forth, a flash erupted, dust fountained aloft from a new-made crater a meter wide. The fourth instrument woke and the scene dissolved in flashes and buzzes, scrambled electronics.

  When it cleared and steadied, Kaino stood limned athwart the sky, gun in hand, flame-head thrown back, joyously laughing.

  The view regained Sundaram and Ivala. The officer held himself expressionless. “Thank you,” he said. “That was most interesting.”

  “I do not believe your service possesses anything similar,” she purred.

  “No. We did not foresee a need to develop infantry weapons for space. Until now.”

  “Now? Why, what you saw was naught save sport.”

  Sundaram gazed straight at the lovely image. “You do not threaten us?”

  “Positively not.” Her amicability went grave. “We do caution you.”

  “Against what?”

  “Against the unforeseeable. Too easily can events break free of all bounds. Not so? Let me suggest, Colonel, that you consult with your superiors. Thereafter, fare you well.” The face disappeared.

  Zhao rose and went over to blank the screen. He did not bring back the scene from home. “The rest we need not play,” he told Dagny. “You know what passed. After some debate, the team received orders to turn back.”

  She nodded.


  He stood tall above her. “That was by my direct command,” he said. “I do not wish to provoke hotheads.”

  She looked up at him. “I wonder of those aren’t inhumanly cool heads,” she replied. “But thank you, your Excellency. You are a wise man.’

  His smile flickered. “Thank you for that. In fact, I fumble my way ahead,, like everyone else.” Somberness: “You must agree I cannot let this defiance go ignored.”

  “What can you do about it?”

  “I begin by appealing to you, madame. Those are your sons. You are highly regarded everywhere on the Moon. If you make them see reason, I will see to it that no charges are brought.”

  Dagny weighed out her words. “I asked, what can you do?”

  “I beg pardon?”

  “They’d no more hear me or my husband than grown, headstrong men ever heard their parents. Probably less.”

  Zhao sat down again opposite her. “I am not convinced of that. You are you.”

  “Gracias. But don’t you be convinced, either, of what I might say to them. This does involve a basic principle.” Dagny sighed. “Yes, I could wish they’d been more … tactful, politic. But they are what they are. Don’t you see, that’s the heart of the conflict. You’re trying to make them into what they are not, what they cannot be.”

  “‘One Law for the Lion and Ox is Oppression,’” Zhao recited.

  Dagny gave him a questioning glance.

  “Thus wrote the poet William Blake some centuries ago,” he explained. Her respect for him waxed further. “But I am lawman for the oxen,” he went on. “For poor, wounded Earth. Have you no compassion for us?”

  Dagny shook herself. “You’re not that dependent—Well, never mind. No, I don’t want a showdown, let alone an armed clash. It’d be lunacy.” She intended no humor. “I’m just telling you that to avoid it, you’ll have to give more than you get. Not more than you can afford, though.”

  “I fear that to yield would provoke further encroachments. What then of the future?”

  “We can’t control it. The grand illusion, that human beings ever could.”

  He smiled anew, a bit. “Now it is you who quote. Anson Guthrie.”

  “Why not? Fireball’s a vital factor too.” She leaned forward. “Listen, please. You want me to use my good offices to make Brandir give in. Well, they aren’t worth much for that end, and if they were, I might not employ them. However, I can and will use whatever influence I have with Guthrie. You’ve doubtless heard we’re close friends. He in his turn will … think of something. A stable Luna is in Fireball’s interest also. Besides, he wouldn’t let a fire burn people up when he could put it out.”

  Zhao sat bolt upright. “Can he persuade them to obey the law?”

  “I think maybe he and I between us can get them to compromise, if you can get the Federation policy makers to,” Dagny replied. “I have in mind something like the Lunarians admitting Sundaram’s team. Afterward, maybe they’ll agree to stop two or three disapproved projects.” She didn’t mention that the inspectors might not find everything there was to find and that an undertaking halted could always be started afresh. “You, the Federation, would have to make a credible promise beforehand, of a concession giving them and others like them control of their territory.”

  Zhao bit his lip. “Their’ territory. Private property, de facto if not de jure. No, worse than that. A feudal domain. Those four at the gate were a detachment of what amounts to a private army. And what of those other Lunarians? Once the precedent is set, what will they seek?”

  Dagny resisted a temptation to react over and pat his hand. “Don’t worry so. You’ll never get uniformed Lunarian thugs parading around intimidating voters. They’re no more interested in politics as we understand it than my cats are. That is, it affects them, they react to it, but it’s not a game they really care to play.”

  “Cats.” This time Zhao’s smile came easier. “I keep parakeets myself.”

  Dagny smiled back. “I’d enjoy meeting them.”

  “You shall be welcome.” His mouth lowered. “You, though, have cats.”

  She decided to push her luck. “Bueno, what about my proposal?”

  “That you consult Guthrie? Yes, do. I could not prevent you in any case. Beyond that, we must see. At best, the details to hammer out will be stubborn and countless.”

  “Uh-huh. And surprises jumping up at us all along the way. Still, we can hope to build a launch pad for a peace effort, can’t we?”

  “I must think.”

  He was a sensible, kindly man, she thought. He would almost certainly come to admit the need for yielding ground while preserving forms. Probably he could persuade them on Earth. Of course, he’d retain his deep doubts. She did. What about those long-range consequences?

  Unforeseeable. You could only deal with the future as it came at you.

  17

  In a storeroom underground, Kenmuir saw another door and started for it. “No, not there,” Norton said. “That’ll take you back to the street. Here.” She pushed at a shelf loaded with containers. It must double as a switch, for a section of wall slid aside. A passage reached beyond, bare, bleakly lit, surfaced with dull-green spray plastic. He followed her in. She touched a second switch and the entrance closed behind them. Air hung chill and stagnant. It smelled dusty.

  “Come on,” she urged.

  Doubt flared into rebellion. He stopped. “What is all this, anyhow?” he demanded.

  “It’s our way out. If my guess is right, we have to hope they’ll assume you went the other way, screened somehow. But if we stay this close, detectors could spot us—motion, infrared, transmitted through the wall—and that’d be that. Let’s go.”

  He shook his head. “I mean, what’s this all about?”

  She tugged at his arm. The grip was strong. “Kahuhū, move, you tonto! We may have only minutes.”

  He resisted. “Not so fast, I say. Who are we running from? What am I being hustled into, and why?”

  She released him, clenched her fists at her sides, and drew a shaky breath. The expressionless pale face turned up toward his contrasted uncannily with the intensity of her voice. “Are you afraid this is something criminal? Listen. We’re in the service of the lady Lilisaire, aren’t we? Has anyone accused her of any wrongdoing?”

  “Well, I—she—”

  “You’re thinking the Peace Authority wouldn’t be investigating her without a reason, aren’t you? Bueno, of course there’s a reason. She’s told you, hasn’t she? She wants to get the Habitat project stepped. Since when has the Covenant of the Federation denied any citizen of any member republic the right to have a political opinion and work for it? Since when was it a crime to search for information? So far, at least, anything unlawful has been on the other side. Most especially if I’m right about what they’ve done to you, Kenmuir. Find out and then decide!”

  “Do you mean—” He fumbled for words. This was like a nightmare from which he could not rouse himself. “A cabal inside the government—”

  “I don’t know,” she said starkly. “If we hang around here till they come after us, we never will know. Now, I’m on my way. Come along or stay, whichever, but don’t anchor me.”

  Lilisaire. And action, almost any action was better than standing in helpless bewilderment. It might even be a civic duty to learn more and then, as opportunity offered, report to the proper people … whoever those might be. The woman was bounding off at a vigorous jog trot. He overtook and accompanied her.

  “Good,” she said. “I figured you must be the right sort, or you wouldn’t have been picked for this.”

  Right sort for what?

  The passage branched in a T. She took them to the left. A short distance onward, it terminated. They halted. The air went harsh through his nostrils. He felt sweat trickle rank down his ribs, more than the run warranted. “Wait here,” she ordered.

  Stubbornness returned. “Why?”

  She sighed. “The tunnel is screened. I asked Juan
, the waiter, to call and have a screened car sent to this end. I’ll go upstairs and meet it. When it arrives, I’ll come back for you. If you make a dash, maybe you won’t be detected. Regardless, with luck we should be gone before they can get here.” She opened the exit, slipped through, and closed it on him.

  He stood his ground, shivering. Questions whirled. Screens? Against what? “They?” And why chase him and not her?

  She’d asked about anything unusual that happened on his journey. When he told her—Hold! He lifted his hands, as if to fend horror off. No, that couldn’t be, mustn’t be. The woman was delusionary. What nest of dements had he stumbled into, and why hadn’t they gotten themselves cured long ago? But, but Lilisaire had engaged Norton. Hadn’t she? Then Norton—Was Lilisaire above using dements for purposes no sane person would touch? No, he’d not think that, not of her. And Norton seemed competent, maybe terrifyingly so. …

  She returned. A metallic fabric lay across one arm. Did he hear laughter seethe below the urgency of her tone? “It’s here already. And it brought this for you. Good old Iscah. Sharp as a shark’s tooth. Put it on.”

  He took the object from her and shook it out. A kind of gown with a coif unfolded, made of fine mesh in which nodules glittered against the dark shimmer. “Portable screening,” Norton explained. “Nothing ought to pick you up now. And we’ll go in an ordinary car, which won’t register suspicious on any monitor. Iscah’s got to have called somebody nearby who could dispatch it here pronto. He knows folks everywhere around town.” The laughter rattled out, shrill for the contralto voice. He realized what stress she too was under.

  He slipped the garment over his head. It hung loose and light, halfway down his shins. Chain mail, he thought: an anachronism no more weird than the rest of this night. Norton led him into an empty basement, up a stair to an empty room lighted only by what trickled through grimy windows. Vacant house, he guessed, reserved for an occasional hideaway or bolthole—by whom? They went on into the street. The vehicle parked there resembled the cab he had taken, except for being nicked and battered in the body, dingy inside. Opposite gloomed a tenement. Two of its own windows shone, with a cold bluish brightness. Kenmuir wondered who lived there.