Something in the phrasing drew Donnan’s attention. Slowly he focused his mind. He felt muscles tighten; a chill went tingling over his scalp.
“You don’t, yourself, believe the nomads did it,” he breathed.
“No,” said Wandwai. “Of course, once Earth was gone, they seized the opportunity to interdict the Solar System by planting orbital missiles whose control code is known only to them. Who else could those weapons belong to?”
“Why’d they do that, if they didn’t kill Earth in the first place?”
“When the planet has cooled, a few years hence, it will still have water, oxygen, an equable temperature. The biosphere can be rebuilt. I feel sure Kandemir plans to colonize Earth sometime in the future. But certain very recent evidence has come to our attention on Monwaing which strongly indicates they are merely seizing an opportunity presented them; that they did not commit the actual murder. Frankly, we have not released the information, since general anti-Kandemirian sentiment is desirable. But you, as a human, have the right to know.”
Donnan slid off the desk. He stood with legs apart, shoulders hunched, fists doubled, braced for the blow. “Have you got any notion . . . who did it?”
Ramri came to stand beside him and stare in bewilderment at the Resident.
Wandwai nodded. “Yes,” he said, “I do.”
XI
Kine die, kinfolk die,
And so at last yourself.
This I know that never dies:
How dead men’s deeds are
deemed.
—Elder Edda
“OKAY,” Donnan said hoarsely. “Spit it out.”
Still the Resident watched him, eyes unblinking in that motionless black head. Until: “Are you strong enough?” Wandwai asked, almost inaudible. “I warn you, the shock will be great.”
“By God, if you don’t quit stalling—! Sorry. Please go ahead.” Wandwai beckoned a desk drawer to open. “Very well,” he agreed. “But rather than state the case myself—I fear my own cultural habits strike you as tactless—let me present the evidence. Then you can reach your own conclusions. When I knew you were coming here, I took this item from the secret file.” He extracted a filmspool. His claws on the floor, the click as he put the spool in a projector, seemed unnaturally loud. “This records an interview on Monwaing itself, between Kaungtha of Thesa, interrogation expert of the naval intelligence staff attached to the central government, and a certain merchant from Xo, which you will recall is a spacefaring planet still neutral in the war.”
“One moment, honored Resident,” Ramri interrupted. “May I ask why—if the secret is important—you have a copy?”
“Knowing several Earth ships were absent at the time of the catastrophe, Monwaing anticipated that one or more would seek a planet of ours,” Wandwai answered. “We are the only race whose friendship they could feel certain about. Not knowing which planet, however, or exactly how the crews would react to their situation, the government provided this evidence for every office. Otherwise, refusing to believe a bald statement, the Terrestrials might have departed for an altogether different civilization-cluster.” He sighed. “Perhaps you will do so anyway, Captain. The choice is yours. But at least you were given what data we had.” Ramri inhaled on his cigar, raggedly. A whiff sent Donnan spluttering to one side. He never took eyes off the projector. With a whir, a cube of light sprang into existence. After a moment, quarter size, a three-dimensional scene appeared within.
Through an open ogive window—still another architecture—. he saw a night sky aglitter with stars, two crescent moons, a rainbow arch that was the rings around Monwaing. Crystal globes in which a hundred luminous insects darted like meteors hung from the ceiling. Behind a desk sat an avian whose feathers were bluish green and who wore a golden trident on his breast. He ruffled papers in his hands, impatiently, though he never consulted them.
THE being who stood before the desk was a Xoan.
Donnan recognized that from pictures only; few had ever visited Earth, which lay beyond their normal sphere of enterprise. The form was centauroid, which is to say there was a quadrupedal body as big as a Shetland pony and an upright torso with arms. But iridescent skin, erectile comb on the head, face dominated by a small proboscis, removed any further resemblance to anything Earthly. The Xoan seemed nervous, shuffling his feet and twitching his trunk.
A disembodied voice sang some phrases in a Monwaingi language. Ramri whispered: “It says, ‘Interview between Interrogator Kaungtha and Hordelin-Barjat, chairman of the navigation committee of the spaceship Zeyan-12 from the planet generally known as Xo: catalogue number—’ Never mind. The date is—let me translate—about six months ago.”
Kaungtha’s replica emitted a trill or two. Then, in Uru, his voice said from the light cube: “Be at ease, Navigator. We wish you no harm. This interview is only to put on official record certain statements previously made by you.”
“Under duress!” The Xoan had a ridiculous squeaky voice. “I protest the illegal detention of my ship and personnel on this planet, the grilling I have undergone, the mental distress—”
“At ease, Navigator, I beg you. Your detention was perfectly in accord with ordinary interstellar practice as well as Monwaingi law. If viral contamination is suspected, what can we do but impose quarantine?”
“You know perfectly well that . . .” Hordelin-Barjat subsided. “I understand. If I cooperate, you will give us a clean bill of health and allow us to depart. So. . . I am cooperating.” Anxiously: “But this will remain secret? You do promise that? If my superiors ever learn—”
Kaungtha rustled his papers. “Yes, yes, you have our assurance. Believe me, Monwaing is as interested in discretion as Xo. You fear repercussions because of your planet’s part in the affair. We much prefer to spare Xo any unfortunate consequences to reputation and livelihood, and let the blame continue to rest where it does. However, for our own guidance, we do want accurate information.”
Hordelin-Barjat: “But how did you ever come to suspect that we Xoans—”
Kaungtha (mildly): “The source of the original hints we got deserves the same protection as you. Not so? Let us commence, then. Your vessel belongs to the Xoan merchant fleet, correct?”
HORDELIN-BARJAT: “Yes. Our particular specialty, as a crew, is to establish first contact with promising new markets and to conduct preliminary negotiations. We—that is—the planets where Xo has been trading for the last several generations . . . they are becoming glutted, or else so civilized they need no longer import the . . . uh . . . specialized items manufactured on our world. We need fresh markets. Earth—”
Kaungtha: “Just so. After studying all the information available to you about Earth, you went there, secretly, in the Zeyan-12. That was approximately two years ago, correct?” (A sudden bark). “Why secretly?”
Hordelin Barjat (shaken):
“Well . . . that is . . . no wish to offend others—Monwaing already had interests on Earth—”
Kaungtha: “Nonsense! No treaty forbade competition in the Terrestrial market. The Monwaingi confederation as a whole undertakes no obligation to protect the commercial interests of those member Societies that engage in trade. No, the secrecy was required by your tentative purpose. Explain in your own words what you had in mind.”
Hordelin-Barjat: “I—that is—I mean—All those ridiculous nations and tribes there! Holdovers from the Stone Age, and still unable to agree . . . in the face of galactic culture. Agree on unity and global peace—”
Kaungtha: “You hoped, then, to sell one or two of those countries a highly advanced weapon that would overthrow the delicate balance of power existing on Earth. If this became known in advance to the rival nations, either preventive war would break out at once or an agreement would be reached to ban such devices. In either case, Xo would make no sale. Hence the secrecy.” Hordelin-Barjat: “I wouldn’t put it just that way, officer. We had no intention—we never foresaw—I tell you, they were mad. The whole race was ma
d. Best they did die, before their lunacy threatened everyone else.”
Kaungtha (sighing): “Spare me the rationalizations.”
HORDELIN-BARJAT: “But—but—but you must understand! We are not murderers! Insofar as a psychology so alien could be predicted, we felt that . . . well, believe me, we had even read some of their own theoretical works, analyses of their own situation. A weapon like this had been discussed by Terrestrial thinkers in various books and journals. They felt it would be the ultimate deterrent to aggressions. A guaranteed peace. Well, if the Earthlings themselves believed such a device would have this effect, how should we know otherwise?”
Kaungtha: “Some of them did. Most did not. In two decades of dealing with Terrestrials, we Monwaingi have gotten some insight into their thought processes. They are—were—they had more individual variability than Xoans. More than any two members of one given Monwaingi Society.” (Leaning forward, harsh tone, machine-gun rattle of papers.) “You gathered those data which pleased you and ignored the rest.”
Hordelin-Barjat: “I—we—”
Kaungtha: “Proceed. Which country did you sell this weapon to?”
Hordelin-Barjat: “Well, actually . . . two. Not two countries, exactly. Two alliances. Power blocs. Whatever they were called. We avoided the major powers. Among other reasons, they—uh—”
Kaungtha: “They had too many extraterrestrial contacts. Word of your project might easily have leaked out to civilized planets, who might well have forbidden it. Also, being strong to begin with, the large nations would feel less menaced from every side; less persecuted; less petulant. In a word, less ready to buy your wares. Proceed.”
Hordelin-Barjat: “I strongly object to your, er, cynical interpretation of our motives.”
Kaungtha: “Proceed, I told you.”
Hordelin-Barjat: “Uh—well, our clients had to be countries that did possess some military force—space missiles and so on—and thereby might well expect to be attacked with missiles in the early stages of a war. We approached the Arabian-North African alliance for one. It felt itself being encircled as relations between Israel and the more southerly African states grew increasingly close. And then there was the Balkan alliance, under Yugoslavian leadership. Suspicious of the Western countries, still more suspicious of Russia, from whose influence they had barely broken free. And sure to be a battleground if outright war ever did break out between East and West.”
Kaungtha: “Let us positively identify the areas in question. You do not pronounce them very reliably, Navigator.” (Projecting a political globe of Earth) “Here, here, here, here. Have I indicated the correct regions?”
Hordelin-Barjat: “Yes.” (Hastily.) “You realize these were second-and third-rate powers. They needed defense, not means of aggrandizement. What we sold them—”
Kaungtha: “Describe that briefly, please.”
HORDELIN-BARJAT: “A set of disruption bombs. Buried deep in the planetary crust. And beneath the ocean beds. Strategic locations—you are familiar with the technology. The bombs belonging to a given alliance—they would go off automatically, if more than three nuclear explosions above a certain magnitude occurred within the borders of any single member country. All those bombs would explode. At once.”
Kaungtha (softly): “And would wipe the planet clean. In seconds.”
Hordelin-Barjat: “Yes, humane, quick, yes. Of course, that was not the intention. Not anyone’s intention. These small powers—they planned to go, oh, very discreetly, in deepest secrecy—they would approach the other governments and say, ‘In the event of general war, we are doomed anyway. But now you will die with us. Therefore you must refrain from making war, ever again.’ I assure you, the idea was to promulgate peace.”
Kaungtha: “Did you witness the actual installation?”
Hordelin-Barjat: “No. My ship only conducted, uh, preliminary negotiations. Others came later, technicians and, and so on. I was informed once, verbally, that the task had been completed and payment made. But I never saw—r” (Shriller than before) “I give you assurance I was as shocked as anyone to hear—not long afterward—my superiors, too! Who could have known that the whole Terrestrial species was insane?” Kaungtha: “Have you any idea what might have happened, exactly?”
Hordelin-Barjat: “No. Perhaps . . . oh, I can’t say. No doubt a war did break out, regardless. If they were already on edge, those governments, then the increased tension. . . feeling this was a bluff that should be called—Or even an accident. I don’t know, I tell you! Let me alone!”
Kaungtha: “That appears sufficient, Navigator. End interview.”
The cube of light flickered and blanked out.
DONNAN heard himself scream, “I don’t believe it! I won’t! Take back your lies!” Ramri pushed him against the wall and held him till he stopped struggling. Wandwai gazed at the symbols burned into the ceiling, as if to find some obscure comfort.
“Not murder, then,” the Resident said at last. “Suicide.”
“They wouldn’t!”
“You may reject this evidence,” said the gentle, surgical voice. “Admittedly it is not conclusive. The Xoan might have lied. Or, even if he told the truth, the Kandemirians might still have launched an attack. Especially if somehow they learned about those bombs. For then the destruction of Earth would be absurdly simple. A few medium-power nuclear missiles, landing within a fair-sized geographical area, would touch off the supreme explosion . . . But Earth herself would nevertheless have provided the means.”
Donnan covered his face and sobbed.
When he looked at them again, Wandwai had put the projector and spool away. “For the sake of surviving humans, Captain, as well as Monwaingi policy,” the Resident murmured, “I trust you will hold this confidential. Now come, shall we discuss your further plans? Despite the-ecological problems, I am sure a home can be made for you within our hegemony—”
“No,” said Donnan.
“What?” This time Wandwai did blink.
“No. We’re heading back to Vorlak. Our ship, the rest of our people—”
“Oh, they can come here. Monwaing will arrange everything with the Dragar.”
“I said no. We have a war to finish.”
“Even after Kandemir is proven probably innocent?”
“I don’t accept your proof. Y-y-you’ll have to trot out something more solid than a reel of film. I’m going to keep on looking . . . on my own account. Anyway, Kandemir did kill some of my crew. And ought fo be stopped on general principles. And there’s still the idea we had of making a Galaxy-wide splash. I’m going. Thanks for your . . . your hospitality, guv’nor. So long.”
Donnan lurched from the room.
Ramri stared after him a minute, then started in pursuit. Wandwai, who had remained still except for slow puffs on his cigar, called: “Do you think it best we stop him?”
“No, honored Resident,” Ramri answered. “It is necessary for him to depart. However, I am leaving too.”
“Indeed? After so long an absence from home?”
“He may need me,” Ramri said, and left.
XII
Who going through the vale of
misery use it for a well: and
the pools are filled with water.
They will go from strength to
strength.
—The Book of Common Prayer
BLACK and mountainous, the ancestral castle of Hlott Luurs covered the atoll on which it was built and burrowed deep into the rock. Sheer walls of fused stone ended in watchtowers overlooking the fisher huts on two neighbor islets, and in missile turrets commanding the sky above. Today, as often at every latitude on Vorlak, that sky hung low. Smoky clouds tinged with bronze by the hidden sun flew on a wind that whipped the sea to gray-green restlessness.
When he stood up, Carl Donnan got a faceful of spindrift. The air was warm, but the wind whistled and the surf boomed with a singularly cold noise.
He braced his feet against roll and lurch as Ger Ne
nna changed course. “We must go in by the west gate,” the scholar called. “None but Dragar and the Overmaster may use the north approach.” His fur gleamed with salt water; he had removed his robes to keep them dry when the boat started off from Port Caalhova. Donnan stuck to his shabby coverall and a slicker.
Pretty overbearing type, that Hlott, the man thought. Oh, sure, he’s entitled to be ceremonious—president of the Council and all that. And in times like these you can’t blame him for not allowing any fliers but his into this area. And his refusal even to talk with me after I got back is within his rights. But when you add everything together, he’s treating us humans like doormats and it has got to stop.
He put arms akimbo. The old Mauser would have been comforting on his hip today. But naturally, he wasn’t allowed to bear weapons here. He wouldn’t even have gotten this interview had it not been for Ger Nenna’s repeated petitions.
They passed a few fisher craft, off which commoners dove like seals to herd schools detected by sonar beams into giant scoop drogues. A patrol boat set down on the water and the pilot bawled a challenge. Ger identified himself and was waved on. A clifflike wall loomed dead ahead. The portcullis was raised as Ger steered toward the entrance. Within, several boats lay docked in a basin. Ger made fast.
“HAVE you reconsidered your plan, Captain, as I requested?” he asked.
“Uh-huh,” Donnan nodded. “But I’ll stick with it.”
The Day After Doomsday Page 11
