Man Who Used the Universe

by Alan Dean Foster

  Off to his right Chaheel overheard a Nuel officer whispering in crude terranglo to his human counterpart. "Are you recording all this, Wan-lee?" The diminutive human made a sign of assent, turned to check with several coworkers.

  Loo-Macklin droned on until he'd finished reading his list, then turned full-faced to the pickup again, blocking out the screen behind him.

  "Some twenty years ago," he began, "an exploration vessel employed by one of my companies accidentally made contact with a ship of the Temovan." There was a bright, violet flash and the image on the screen shook and blurred out for a moment. There was only white. The humans railed at their instruments but the reason for the interruption lay elsewhere.

  "Excuse that, please," said Loo-Macklin, no longer smiling. "That was caused by a blast from one of the lead Tremovan ships. They've been aware of the Tarsis's presence among them but until now had no reason to worry about it. I'll make the reasons for their unconcern clear, if I'm given enough time."

  Light flared in the background again but this time the image held steady. "As I was saying, all this began some time ago. Further contact revealed that the Tremovan occupy an impressive number of worlds toward Shapely Center.

  "They are a powerful and technologically advanced race and have been expanding for hundreds of years, gobbling up all smaller systems and peoples within their circumfluence. They are, however, also extremely conservative and quite reluctant to go to war with any peoples they cannot mass an overwhelming strength of firepower against.

  "Those of you within range of my voice will recall, and this may seem odd to my younger listeners, that twenty years ago this portion of the galaxy was combat ground for two other powerful peoples. Circumstance set a virulent mankind and its allied races such as the Orischians and the Athabascans against the worlds dominated by the Families of the Nuel. There was constant fighting, albeit usually on a small scale, between these two burgeoning spheres of influence. Such conflict diverted strength and energy away from expansion in science and other fields.

  "My private studies of the Nuel mass mentality indicated that their racial shape-paranoia had made them adept and resourceful politically as well as technologically. It was clear to me how the Tremovan would proceed once they also became aware of these facts. They would ally themselves with the Nuel against humanity and the United Technologic Worlds. Racial antagonism would blind the opportunistic Nuel to the real intent of the Tremovan, who would eventually swallow up the worlds of the Families as well as the UTW.

  "The converse was also possible: that the Tremovan would join with mankind against the Nuel." Another explosion shook the image. It went blank white again. When the picture finally recovered it was no longer clear and sharp. Loo-Macklin hauled himself into pickup range from the deck where he'd been thrown. The view wavered and broke unpredictably, giving the industrialist a surreal look. His voice was strained when he resumed speaking, whether from tension or injury the watchers could not tell, and he spoke faster.

  "It was evident that should I present my knowledge of the Tremovan to either government, human or Nuel, both would scramble to be the first to ally with this new race against a traditional enemy." There were mutterings of dissent from both human and Nuel onlookers.

  "Computer crisis mathematics clearly indicated that if either race was to retain any chance of keeping its independence, they would have to combine forces against the Tremovan. Given the Tremovan's adeptness at diplomacy and what I knew of those humans and Nuel then in power, I knew that any contact would kill that chance for independence through cooperation as surely as I'd squash an ant.

  "I therefore constructed a dangerous scenario, but the only one which I believed had any chance of success. I have been playing out that scenario for twenty years of my life.

  "I warned the Tremovan of the dangers they faced in an attempted takeover of either the UTW or the worlds of the Families. Both were on a constant war footing, impossible to surprise. I persuaded them to allow me enough time to weaken both sides from within, to make them less ready to fight. Perhaps a race like mankind or Nuel would not have agreed to that, but as I said, the Tremovan are excessively cautious. Their successes have reinforced that caution.

  "I then promised the Families that in return for commercial considerations and eventual political power I would help them to subvert mankind, reducing the Board of Operators to impotence. I convinced the Board that I was working closely with the Nuel only in order to gain admittance to their Birthing-related industries so that I might slowly poison the minds of their young.

  "While thus keeping both sides from engaging in anything more damaging than minor incidents, my true purpose was slowly being achieved. Both races were learning to live peacefully with one another, in expectation of eventual conquest of course, but peacefully nonetheless.

  "Without realizing it, the past twenty years have seen a passing of the older, more inflexible and antagonistic rulers of both sides. A certain amount of trust has blossomed between human and Nuel, so much so that even as I speak, a joint Human-Nuel military network is being formed at the Board of Operators building in São Paulo, on Terra. A network, which is preparing to direct joint UTW-Family forces against the incoming Tremovan armada.

  "I am hoping, praying, and willing to bet," Loo-Macklin continued as another explosion turned the image to jelly, "that, given the highly conservative nature of the Tremovan, who have come intending to strike a surprise alliance with one race or the other, finding a joint force of near equal strength waiting for them, they will immediately turn around and begin the long retreat back toward their own empire. They will expand in other directions and await a more propitious time to grab for this section of space.

  "No such chance will occur, however. Having been presented with this threat, the Human-Nuel alliance should only grow stronger." The slight smile widened. "I assure you all that compared to the differences between human and Nuel, those between the Tremovan and any other sentient being are shocking and extreme."

  He moved aside. The viewscreen behind him had a section missing, damaged during one of the recent near misses, but it still functioned, still displayed the massed vessels of the Tremovan armada.

  "There is the threat. I managed to stall the Tremovan for more than twenty years. Their impatience finally outgrew their caution, but it's too late for them now. Reason has come to this part of the galaxy, and it will not be easily duped.

  "Unfortunately," he added, "the Tremovan have intercepted and are decoding this message even as I send it. At such close range it is of course impossible to hide a long-range communication even by use of tightbeam. They know how and by whom they have been tricked. The Tarsis, however, is no ordinary research vessel and I am hopeful that with a little luck and careful maneuvering it will be possible for us to make . . ."

  There was another bright flare accompanied by a roar of static. The screen went to white briefly, and then, for the first time, to black. You could hear a man breathe at the other end of the immense chamber.

  A technician seated in the depression that marked Central Control said into the silence, a silence so deep even those on the upper catwalks could hear him clearly, "Transmission interruption. Signal not restored."

  The officer he was addressing himself to nodded. Slowly, activity resumed in the newly christened war room. Nuel and human officers debated with grim determination as graphics on towering screens depicted the almost completed gathering of the joint UTW-Family forces.

  Chaheel heard the subambassador murmuring. "A remarkable individual, even for a human being. I was told he'd been made an honorary member of the Si Family. Truly remarkable, think you not?" He got no response, reached out a tentacle and prodded a sensitive spot below Chaheel's mouth. "Think you not?"

  "I suppose that's as good a word for what he was as anything," the psychologist responded noncommittally.

  "How he fooled us all, human and Nuel alike," the assistant ambassador murmured, not without admiration. "What was that he
was saying about a plan to poison our offspring?"

  "A false plan designed to fool human intelligence services, as he said. It involved food additives."

  "Spirals within spirals, plans within plans." The subambassador kept one eye focused on the nearest viewscreen as he spoke. "All these years when it was thought he was working on behalf of the Families, and when the humans believed he was working for them, he was in truth risking himself on behalf of both races. Not Nuel to conquer man nor man to conquer Nuel, but so that we might conquer our fears of one another in order to be able to face a greater threat from outside."

  The psychologist remained strangely silent. He is overcome by the loss of one with whom he has been so closely associated for so long, the subambassador thought compassionately. Though he was suspicious of this Lewmaklin's motives, one does not devote so much of one's life to studying an individual solely out of fear.

  Does one?

  "It also explains," he continued, "why the lehl implant has not harmed its host. The lehl knew even when certain men or Nuel did not that its host was truly doing nothing against the best interests of the Nuel." His voice turned reverent.

  "And truly has he given his own life by revealing these intricate plannings of his to us in such a way that we cannot but believe them. Will I regret forever upon my children that I was never to meet him and that so great a sentient should perish without being able to receive the acclaim due him for his efforts on our behalf."

  "Oh truly," said Chaheel so softly the subambassador did not hear him. Oddly enough he found himself thinking about the human Oxford Swift and his mate. He hoped they had been decently treated and released. What must they be thinking now, if they had been returned to their riverine home? What must he think of Chaheel Riens and his hysterical, accusatory opinions concerning one Kees vaan Loo-Macklin?

  The Nuel ambassador was gliding toward them. "You all saw, you all heard?"

  They both made signs of assent.

  "I have more news. This Solar Technological Institute ship, the Tarsis, departed Restavon several months ago. Before vanishing into deep space it made a short stop at Evenwaith. I think you both truly can guess the name of the passenger it picked up there.

  "That is why we were unable to locate Lewmaklin. He has been on this Tarsis for some time. He planned everything from the beginning and everything has worked for him." He hesitated, made a multitentacular sign of distress. "Everything except his hopes for escape, that is.

  "I only wish I had some way of expressing to him the gratitude of the Families. Not only has he enabled us to save ourselves from these marauding and voracious Tremovan, he managed to do it in such a way as to allow us to save ourselves from ourselves. The hate that existed between Nuel and human was ten times more dangerous to our survival than any alien invaders.

  "What a kind, benign, self-sacrificing individual this Keeyes vain Lewmaklin must have been!" He glanced concernedly at the psychologist nearby.

  "Why, Chaheel Riens, you look ill!"

  Chapter 16

  Anxious days followed Loo-Macklin's final broadcast. Chaheel spent his hours roving about the vast structure that was the center of UTW government, marveling at the use of metal where the Nuel would have used organic polymers, enjoying the views of the city, luxuriating in the special quarters which had been prepared for the use of very important Nuel visitors. He was constantly seen in the company of the Nuel ambassador himself, and so no one commented on his presence in sensitive places or questioned his right to be there.

  Somewhere below the hundredth floor was buried the immense computational heart of the United Technologic Worlds, the final, inorganic arbiter of all government arguments and decisions. Working in conjunction with it, were the much smaller but far more numerous semiorganic computers which helped the intricate networks of families govern the Nuel worlds. Together they mapped strategy and considered options.

  Despite Loo-Macklin's revelations, the Tremovan armada continued its steady plunge toward the civilized worlds.

  Chaheel was in the vaulted command chamber on the day when both massed fleets were to come within short detection range of one another. Then maneuvering would begin in earnest. The ships would be unable to see each other, even with the aid of powerful telescopes. Even at sublight speed, where physics dictates such fighting must take place, ships remained impossibly far apart until actual combat was joined.

  "Truly will we know what our future is to be before this day is over." The ambassador surmised, staring up at the main viewscreen, which occupied the entire wall and was three stories high.

  Currently it showed two clusters of slowly shifting lights: white for the approaching Tremovan and mixed red and green for the united Human-Nuel forces.

  "Detection, mark," a technician's voice boomed over a speaker. The lights moved, changing position only ponderously on the screen but in reality at unnatural speed. There was a pause.

  "Positioning," repeated the human voice. "Phase one," echoed the gurgling voice of a Nuel technician. A longer pause followed. The observers on the floor below the screens stared and waited.

  "Still positioning," announced the two voices . . . and then, jubilantly in both languages, "Turning. Enemy forces are turning. Slow wheel through four degrees one half arc of space. They are definitely turning!"

  The shift was not immediately perceptible on the huge screen. Parsecs away out in a vast open area of space where suns were thin, out between two arms of the galaxy, the huge Tremovan fleet had begun to turn away from the massed forces confronting it. Several hours passed before the announcers were able to declare it with finality.

  "Observers and officers," the twin voices said, "enemy fleet is retiring toward Shapely Center. Exact course unpredictable. It appears they are taking evasive action. Velocity of retreat precludes pursuit."

  There was some heated arguing to punctuate the wild cheers and shouts that filled the chamber. Despite the poor chances of overtaking the retreating enemy there were those among both human and Nuel staffs who argued for following, in order to administer a drubbing the Tremovan would not forget.

  Fortunately, cooler heads prevailed. It was pointed out that while the conservative Tremovan apparently were not ready for a fight with a powerful and prepared opponent, if attacked they would have no choice but to fight. Thus far not a single sentient had died, not a missile or particle beam had been unleashed in anger. No, the Tremovan might elect not to attack, but they would most certainly defend. The outcome of such a battle could not be predicted. A standoff would result in a victory for the Tremovan, for they knew the location of the UTW-Family worlds while human and Nuel remained ignorant of their enemy's home.

  In brief, the Master Computer finally declared portentously to the hawks of both races, better not to push your luck.

  Chaheel saw the Nuel ambassador conversing with a member of the Board of Operators, the latter recognizable by his haughty air and gilded coveralls. After a while the first father rejoined Chaheel and the subambassador.

  "It has been decided that truly will the joint fleets remain at station until we are absolutely sure these Tremovan are not attempting some intricate circumferencing maneuver. As soon as the linked computation systems of both governments agree, the main forces will be withdrawn. A group of monitoring warships will remain in position, and construction will begin immediately on a complex network of automatic surveillance stations. These Tremovan could not surprise us this time. We shall make truly certain they can never do so in the future."

  It had been a momentous day, one of those rare days that appear in bold type in the history books, a day for men and women to speak of fondly in their dotage.

  "Verses untold will be composed to celebrate this occasion," said the subambassador. "The Si in particular will gain much in reverence, for this Lewmaklin is claimed as one of their own."

  For the wrong reason, Chaheel wanted to say, then decided it would be tactless.

  "Birthings will be dedicated to this mom
ent," agreed the ambassador. "This is a Day of Names.

  "Now work will begin to expand and improve the fleets. Human and Nuel knowledge will be combined to produce the most powerful spacecraft the nothingness has yet experienced. If we have to confront these Tremovan a second time we will be the ones in the position of confident superiority."

  They were strolling toward the exit, intent on an evening meal (Chaheel finding himself famished . . . he'd forgotten to eat) when a human woman came running past them. Her eyes were wild with excitement and she was shouting.

  "He's alive!"

  She stopped in the middle of the room before anyone; high officer, politician, programmer, human or Nuel, thought to question her credentials. Her uniform was not military or operator. But it didn't matter. All that mattered was the message she brought.

  "He's alive!"

  Word spread rapidly around the vast war room. Finally someone thought to check for confirmation. A communications tech high up on the second catwalk pulled out his earpiece and yelled joyfully down toward the floor.

  "It's true. He's alive." He threw the sensitive aural pickup high into the air, not caring what any superior might say. "Kees vaan Loo-Macklin lives!"

  An explosion of exhilaration suffused the room with a mental glow the likes of which Chaheel had never felt before. Human and Nuel participated in the celebration with equal enthusiasm. As a trained psychologist he was doomed never to enjoy such outbursts because his brain was too occupied with recording and examining them.

  Details of this minor resurrection filtered throughout the chamber as fast as communications was able to decipher them. The special engines, which had been built into the Tarsis, hadn't been quite special enough, or else the Tremovan pursuit craft had been a trifle faster than anticipated. It had been subject to attack (which everyone had seen evidence of during Loo-Macklin's broadcast) and pursuit (which they had not).

  The Tarsis had managed to evade complete destruction, however, dodging and hiding until the Tremovan encountered the massing Human-Nuel fleet. At that point all alien craft had turned back, including those seeking the Tarsis.