Treaty at Doona

by Anne McCaffrey

  eventhorizonpg.com

  THROUGH THE VOID the small blue-white star twinkled enticingly, promising light and heat in generous measure. Those aboard the massive, matte-black spaceship approaching that star system on an elliptical angle had been drawn to investigate it by the various communication signals emanating from the third planet of that star. The planet, a blue and green globe around which three pocked moons circled, was also ringed by orbiting drones and several spaceships of considerably less mass than the newcomer. Such vehicles were considered by the passengers of the enormous spaceship to be as worthy of investigation as the broadcasts, for both phenomena indicated the presence of sentient beings and advanced technology.

  The visiting vessel, which had no insignia or identifiable markings on its kilometer-long, irregularly cylindrical hull, sailed boldly toward this so-intriguing star system. Even as those aboard contained their initial elation of discovery and began to record this event, sensors at the system perimeter were spotted, their messages and internal composition examined by probes, the mechanisms briefly prevented from performing the function for which they had been designed. Excitement grew to a feverish pitch as specialists and consultants eagerly inspected the diagrams of the sophisticated warning systems. Everything pointed to the amazing fact that the inhabitants of this star system had created and nurtured a civilization sufficiently advanced to be worth the strangers’ complete and immediate attention.

  * * *

  At the door of the Council Chamber, Todd Reeve, Human colony leader of Doonarrala, bowed and shook hands with arriving delegates, hopefully dissembling his most uneasy and ambivalent feelings about this wretched conference. He’d never imagined the idea of turning the Treaty Island subcontinent into a free trade and spaceport facility would come this far. The slim margin by which the colony referendum had passed vindicated his position, but the “yeas” had barely outnumbered the “nays,” and the measure had passed. So he had been forced to take the next step—this meeting of Hrruban and Hayuman officials.

  Beside him in the receiving line was his best friend, Hrriss, their twenty-seven-year friendship badly strained by their current, disparate views on the subject of a free port. Todd found it very hard to understand how Hrriss should pursue a course which, so obviously to Todd, abrogated both the Decision and Treaty by which this unusual mixed colony had been promulgated.

  Right now, being greeted by smiles and affability, none of the delegates would have suspected that the almost legendary friendship of Hayuman and Hrruban was under considerable stress. For the first time, they had agreed to disagree.

  The visiting delegates entered the room one by one, exchanging pleasantries with each of the Doonarralan dignitaries. Todd was impatient to get past the preliminaries and plunge into the problem, which might relieve the tension that twisted his nerves and tightened his neck and shoulders. His wife, Kelly, had done her best to knead out the worst of the kinks, silently supporting her husband throughout his campaign to defeat the proposal. Despite their mutual respect and deep attachment to this planet and all it stood for, Todd wasn’t sure if Kelly totally agreed with him on this matter. She’d said all the proper things and had accompanied him and his father on their trips to all the Villages where the pros and cons were argued in open debate. But somehow, the feeling niggled at him that she was not as dead set against a free-trade port as he was.

  Todd’s father, Ken Reeve, had worked tirelessly for a “nay” verdict on the referendum. For the situation represented his worst nightmare come true for Doona: an insidious expansion that defeated the initial purpose of the colony—for both species. Doona could cease to be the pastoral paradise it was if suddenly plunged into rapid commercial development.

  Somehow, Todd must make that fear so real to the delegates that today’s conference would be the end of the matter. Otherwise, he might be forced to resign his position as the Hayuman colony leader, since he could not wholeheartedly accept such a change in Doonarrala.

  The fact that the idea for a trade and spaceport facility originated with the Hrruban half of the colony did nothing to placate Todd’s anxieties. The original premise, hammered into the Decision—and later the Treaty—would, he argued, be invalidated if part of the planet were to be commercialized. Ironic that this whole wretched idea had come from his suggestion that they name the western subcontinent “The Hrrunatan” after the late First Speaker, as a mark of the respect and love in which all Doonarralans, Hayuman and Hrruban, had held Hrruna.

  Todd and the old First Speaker had had a most unusual relationship, despite their differences of species, culture, and age. It was therefore doubly ironic that what had been meant as a sincere tribute to Hrruna was rebounding against those he had so subtly protected during the colony’s early stages.

  Todd almost welcomed the discomfort of the formal, tailored tunic which rubbed his neck raw as the receiving line continued. It kept distracting him from his troubles. His thick black hair was newly cut and neatly brushed and he knew he looked well in the formal tunic, despite its constriction. He had good shoulders, a deep chest, and was tall, even for a Hayuman. Todd had never stood on ceremony but, as Kelly had said at their mostly silent breakfast, ceremony could be used to advantage. As he hoped to use it today. That didn’t keep his collar from binding his neck.

  He took some consolation in seeing that Hrriss was likewise chafed by Hrruban ceremonial gear, surreptitiously tugging at the jeweled straps that crisscrossed his tawny-furred torso under the loose red robe he wore for such a formal occasion. On other, less-charged occasions Hrriss would have glanced up at Todd, a hand-span taller than he, and rolled his large green eyes ceilingward, flattening back his tufted ears to express his discomfort. But today they were opponents—still friendly, still hoping for a way out of the dilemma which obsessed both—so their normal exchanges were constrained.

  Beyond Hrriss was his father, Hrrestan, Hrruban co-leader with Todd, who was as staunchly in favor of the proposed alteration of Doonarrala’s function as Todd and his father were opposed to it.

  The veteran diplomat was currently chatting to the Hrruban Space Arm representative, Prrid. An old Stripe, the Senior Space Commandant stood with his hands clasped behind him, rocking back and forth, his tail tip held at a relaxed angle. Beside him, his aide, a mature and seasoned explorer, Mrrunda, stood on one foot and then the other, trying not to appear impatient for the proceedings to begin. He seemed to feel exactly the way Todd did. For all the times when, as a small boy, Todd had wished for a tail, he was glad now that he didn’t have one, for it would have been lashing nervously. On the other hand, Hrrestan’s caudal appendage was curved slightly, showing that he was at ease. The rest of the Hrruban Space Arm party were already standing near the conference table: three more officers, each with pouches stuffed with documentation.

  “Admiral Barnstable,” Todd said, calling himself to order as he greeted a tall, white-haired man in uniform who resembled the very portrait of an ancient sea captain. In a face of weatherbeaten red, surprising in a man who had never been out on the seas of any planet, he had sharp blue eyes with which he now studied Todd. Hoping he passed muster, Todd smiled and bowed.

  “Welcome to the Treaty Island of Doonarrala, sir. May I present Leader Hrrestan, Senior Commandant Prrid, and his aide, Captain Mrrunda?”

  Everett Cabot Barnstable, representing Spacedep, was one of the more important delegates to the conference. There had been a lot of jockeying to see who would head the military Arm of Amalgamated Worlds, with its huge budget, resources, and manpower. Barnstable, possessed of a strong conservative bent and vast support on Earth, had finally succeeded. His predecessor, Admiral Landreau, had be
en no friend to Doonarrala. Barnstable was known as a decision-maker, a good administrator and negotiator. Todd felt Barnstable, though not entirely perfect, was a significant improvement over Landreau. At least, Doonarrala had had no trouble from Spacedep since he had been in charge—until now. Barnstable wasn’t so reactionary as to favor Human Separatism, but he was sure to support the inauguration of a base on the subcontinent; a base that would be as useful to the Hayuman Space Arm as to the Hrruban. Another point that Todd had tried to emphasize in his contentions was that Spacedep had no right on Doonarrala; had always meant trouble to the community. And now they wanted to invite Spacedep in?

  Barnstable accorded his Hrruban opposite numbers a sharp, respectful half-bow, eyeing them as keenly as they did him. Then he gave an odd, convulsive shudder and frowned. “Confound it, I can’t believe it’s safe for a body to shift planets so fast. Ten minutes ago I stood on a grid on Earth, and then I was decanted on Doona.”

  “It saves time,” Prrid said, lifting his upper lip in a toothy Hrruban grin.

  Todd was relieved to see that Barnstable was familiar with the awesome sight of a Hrruban smile.

  “I imagine you do not favor further grid installations on Doonarrala,” Todd said to Prrid, seizing the opportunity for some subtle indirection.

  Prrid’s unexpectedly orange eyes regarded him, the pupil slits narrowed to a thin line.

  “Zat will depend, Leader Rrrev. Zat will depend.”

  “Come now, Reeve,” Admiral Barnstable said, turning jocular. “Surely you won’t stand in the way of progress.”

  “If I were certain it was progress . . .” Todd let his comment trail off. So Spacedep was, as he anticipated, eager to obtain a legitimate position on Doonarrala.

  “Now, Todd,” Jilamey Landreau said, appearing at Todd’s elbow, a-jingle with the tiny bells sewn in patterns on his stylish motley-colored attire. “It’s not like you to resist any change which improves this planet. The more grids, the merrier, what? Think of how many more people would come to the Snake Hunts,” he added, grinning mischievously. Then he turned to the Senior Commandant and his aide, his round face ingenuous. “Todd saved my life on my first Snake Hunt, you know. By the way, Admiral, Commandant, I represent the Grid . . .”

  “Save it till later, Jilamey,” Todd said, grabbing his friend by the elbow and pushing him away from the military group.

  “Oh, I can take a hint . . .” Jilamey said with mock dismay, marching off into the conference room with an agitated jingling of his tiny bells.

  Todd sighed to himself: it would seem that all his erstwhile friends were aligned against him. But Jilamey was “Grid” mad. If civilians of either planet could have had matter transmitters, Jilamey Landreau would have been first in the queue. Perhaps it was as well that the Hrrubans were so paranoid about sharing their technology.

  To benefit from a trade and spaceport installation, the Hrrubans would have to put down grid facilities, probably the largest feasible one—similar in size to the one they had originally used to transport their “village” in the earliest days of the Doonan colonization.

  Todd couldn’t really blame the Hrrubans for wanting a free trade port. Their lack of large cargo vessels had weighed heavily against Hrruban traders expanding their territories. Of course, there were grids transporting goods among Hrruban home and colony worlds, but there still didn’t seem to be much metal-bearing ore available on Hrruban worlds for more than small two- or three-man exploration vessels. Those were hardly large enough for cost-efficient intersystem trade. Spacedep had persisted in its restrictions on the sale of Hayuman spacecraft to Hrruban merchants. On the day that the Hrrubans released information and/or licensed grid matter transmitters to Hayumans, Spacedep would lift its embargo on vessel transfers.

  “Yo there, Reeve,” said Fred Horstmann, a stout man with fair hair and a flamboyant gold-trimmed tunic, an independent trader affiliated with Codep’s leading administrator and negotiator, Captain Ali Kiachif. That wily old skipper was already holding court at the near edge of the great oval table. Ali had not changed in all the years Todd had known him, except for a little more gray in his hair and beard.

  Some of the lesser lights chatted quietly at the other end of the table. Lorena Kaldon, with scarlet-dyed hair and a firm, pointed chin, was a banker from one of the major Amalgamated Worlds institutions. Her presence suggested that the project was favored by the money markets, and Todd’s spirits sank even further. Damn it! Were they that certain this wretched facility would be approved? Her opposite number, Hrrouf, a financier from Hrruba, soon arrived with a pale-pelted female named Nrrena, whose limp air was belied by her scarred ears and forearms. Both were moderately broad Stripes, indicating that they were of good family.

  Closely following them was Hrrin, a Rraladoonan from the Third Hrruban Village, who represented Hrruban independent traders and was an old friend of Todd’s and Hrriss’. The stripe down his back and tail was narrower than Hrriss’, and his leonine mane was much darker. Hrrin had kept his opinions to himself, so he might indeed side with Todd.

  Barnstable and the two Hrruban Space Arm delegates moved straight for the conference table, to check their places.

  Old Ali Kiachif caught Todd’s eye and winked as he rose to take Barnstable’s outstretched hand. It was too early in the day for a drink, but Todd could have sworn that the bulge in the old spacer’s tunic pocket was a flask. It probably contained mlada, the Hrruban native liquor and Kiachif’s favorite tipple in this lane of space. Though Kiachif had made port only a short hour before the conference was due to start, that was time enough for him to acquire “needful” supplies. Drunk or sober, the old man’s mind was sharp, never missing the chance to turn an advantage his own way, occasionally even supporting the good of Doonarrala to his own detriment. But would Ali prove an ally or antagonist? He had every reason to want better shipping facilities on Doonarrala but he certainly wouldn’t want to give up his edge on interstellar trade. Todd sighed.

  Last to arrive, undoubtedly by design, was Hrrto, Second Speaker for External Affairs, currently the most senior administrator from Hrrestan’s homeworld of Hrruba. This was the first time any of the Speakers had visited Doonarrala since the First Speaker, Hrruna, had “joined the Ancestral Stripes.”

  Todd knew that Hrrto, who had not always been a strong supporter of the Rrala Experiment, was under considerable pressure to make his mark at this conference. Rumor had it that he was on the short list of nominees for the post of First Speaker. He would be caught between his desire to win on his own merits and the necessity to compare favorably with his late superior in wisdom and probity. Comparisons were always odious, and even a Second Speaker from a well-regarded Stripe would not be exempt from them. The election was not far off, a fact that Todd knew would make Hrrto eager to conclude the conference as soon as possible so he could devote his time and energy to domestic matters.

  Beside Hrrto, but one pace behind him, walked a female Hrruban in plain black robes: Hrrto’s aide, Mllaba. Her hot yellow-green eyes showed Todd that her deference was deliberate, but not entirely out of respect for her employer. Todd found her a curious individual. Hrriss told him that Mllaba had abstained from cub-bearing and even companionship, in her drive to advance a political career. She came from a very broad Stripe, equal in rank on Hrruba to Hrrestan himself.

  Hrrto turned first to Hrrestan and Hrriss, favoring his fellow Hrrubans with his first words, then came to face Todd.

  “Speaker Hrrto,” Todd said in High Formal Hrruban, bowing deeply. “You honor us with your presence.”

  “Zodd Rrev, I greet you,” Hrrto said cordially, bowing slightly. Todd realized with a shock how much older Hrrto seemed. His tawny mane was almost all silver, and he moved with greater care, as if his formal red robes weighed heavily on his shoulders. “My assistant, Mllaba.”

  “Honored,” Todd said.

  “It is I who am honrrre
d.” Mllaba replied in a low, throaty voice.

  “Now that all the delegates are assembled,” Todd said, “let us begin.” He nodded at an attendant, who shut the heavy folding doors of the conference room.

  Hrrestan politely led Second Speaker to his designated place and bowed him into it, before taking his own seat. Hrrirr leaped up to move a chair from the row against the wall for Mllaba. She said nothing, but her tail twitched once before she draped it demurely to one side instead of sticking it through the gap in the chair back intended for the Hrruban caudal appendage.

  As Todd took his seat he appreciated the irony that he now presided over proceedings in this chamber where he and Hrriss had once been on trial for their honor and more. The ultimate stake that day had been nothing less than the continued existence of their shared world, Doona/Rrala. In Todd’s estimation, today’s deliberations were no less critical. Doubly ironic was the fact that this was also his first chairmanship as Human colony leader, and he wanted it—against all odds—to fail!

  He glanced around the table, meeting the eyes of friends and acquaintances, forcing a smile which he hoped would not appear inane or false.

  “Friends,” said Todd. “As co-host of this conclave, I welcome you all to this vital conference. I have to tell you that I am completely opposed to the formation of a spaceport and commercial facility on the Hrrunatan subcontinent.” There was a murmur of surprise at his bald statement. “I feel strongly, as does my father and our former leader, Hu Shih, that such an installation is in direct conflict with the Decision made on Doonarrala thirty-three years ago.

  “That Decision was ratified in a Treaty nine years ago, setting this planet aside as a peaceful, co-existent colony, specifically limited to an agrarian economy. To install an interstellar complex—even at the distance of the subcontinent—violates both Decision and Treaty. In light of this prejudice, I turn the meeting over to my co-leader, Hrrestan.” He nodded to Hrrestan at the head of the table and sat down amidst a buzz of muted comments.