Drowning World

by Alan Dean Foster

  Poutukaa was owned and operated by Sakuntala.

  On the surface, there was nothing shady about the company. It dabbled in food processing and supply as well as the transshipment of goods among towns and villages. It might be involved in other enterprises as well; she couldn't remember. The key question was why and for what service was it paying Sethwyn Case substantial amounts of credit.

  She ordered Poutukaa's confidential financial records accessed. With a look of reluctance and a sigh of distress, Pandusky went to work.

  Geladu-tiv arrived in her office later that afternoon, escorted by two peaceforcers. She had the heavily armed soldiers remain, flanking the door to her outer office. The Sakuntala elder did not look happy. His tongue kept lolling out of one side of his mouth, and his tail would not be still. The strappings he wore were among the fanciest she had seen, an opulent mix of traditional weave, embossing, and engraving work that alternated with contemporary highlights.

  She said as much. “Poutukaa must be doing well for its Hata to afford such costly raiment. I applaud your enterprise. You are proof that the Deyzara are not the only ones who can succeed in doing commerce with the business entities of the Commonwealth.”

  Hauled off under armed guard to the office of the Authority administrator, the last thing the senior Sakuntala had expected was to be greeted with a compliment.

  “Hauea, we do well enough.” He was trying very hard not to turn to look at the guards, who had their protective face shields down and their weapons at the ready. “Administrator Matthias, why have I been brought here? I a simple businessperson, just as you have declared.”

  “Businessperson I have no doubt. Simple—that is another matter.” She indicated a thick pile of hard copy on her desk. “I have been reviewing your company records for the past year.”

  Geladu-tiv looked startled. “You not permitted to do such a thing.”

  “On your way out you may request the proper form for filing an official complaint.” She made a show of shuffling through the hard copy. “There are a lot of payments here to small groups and organizations that I am informed are active participants in the current troubles.”

  As per prior instructions, one of the peaceforcers moved forward until he was standing close behind the Sakuntala senior. Very close. Threat by implication would be difficult to prove. Had a Church padre been present, he or she would have protested vociferously. But no United Church presence hovered over the little tableau that was being played out in her office.

  Geladu-tiv struggled not to turn and meet the eyes of the very tall peaceforcer. “Poutukaa is a respected clan-based Sakuntala operation. It is no hotbed of radicals.”

  “I believe you.” She indicated the hard copy. “However, Poutukaa is guilty of providing financing and support to factions that are.”

  “To work profitably among Sakuntala is necessary to have good relations with all clans and groups. Sometimes payments necessary to buy not just goods but goodwill. That not a crime.” He hesitated, not entirely certain of the relevant bit of Commonwealth law. “Is it?”

  “No, it's not.” His relief was palpable. “Anyway, I'm not interested in your company's political activities. That's your business.”

  Now the senior appeared genuinely bewildered. “Then why I here? What you want from me?”

  She extracted one piece of hard copy from the pile and pushed it toward him. He glanced down at it without making a move to pick it up, as if it were a lurking bai-mou just waiting to leap at his throat.

  “On the dates specified, you made a number of sizable payments to a human named Sethwyn Case.”

  One did not become the head of a successful company operated and owned by Sakuntala without possessing at least a degree of shrewdness. “I cannot verify that without first check with company fiduciary.”

  “For now, take my word for it.”

  Having yet to be openly accused of breaking a law, the Sakuntala entrepreneur was starting to feel a little better about things. “Is also not illegal?”

  “No.” She stared hard at the senior. “All I want to know is, what were these payments made for? What services did the bioprospector Sethwyn Case render to the company Poutukaa to be worthy of all this credit? You didn't pay him in mulat.”

  Geladu-tiv let his tongue and tail tip fall to the floor, a dual sign of abject submission. “You must believe me, Administrator Matthias, when I tell you that I not know.” Before she could object, he added helpfully, “If they are indeed accurately recorded and stated as you claim them to be, then all payments to which you refer would be ones made at behest of respected radical Hata-yuiqueru Aniolo-jat.”

  Sitting back in her chair, she nodded slowly. To the senior's discernible relief, the hulking peaceforcer who had been standing immediately behind him stepped back and resumed his original position next to the doorway.

  “What business does Poutukaa have with an extremist like Aniolo-jat?”

  “Trade,” Geladu-tiv responded without hesitation. “Insurance.”

  “Weapons?” she retorted.

  The senior looked alarmed. “No, no! Poutukaa would never be involved in the traffic of such things!”

  Matthias was relentless. “Yet you make payments on behalf of a Hata-yuiqueru like Aniolo-jat.”

  “It is as I told you. Business is business. Among other things, heesa, credit buys goodwill.”

  She grunted, folding her hands in front of her. “In my language we would call it protection money, but so be it. You have no idea why Aniolo-jat wanted you to transfer large sums to the human Case?”

  “No, Administrator. If you want to know, I think you must have to ask the Hata-yuiqueru yourself. We did what we did because we felt it good business.” He swallowed. “Necessary business.”

  “You did it because you felt you had no choice. Did Aniolo-jat or some of his minions threaten you or your company?” The senior did not reply. “No matter. That's between his people and yours. You can go.”

  “Wistha?” Surprised by yet another unexpected turn in the interrogation, Geladu-tiv's ears flicked sharply in her direction.

  “Heesa.” She waved a hand indifferently. “Yes, go on; go. You are free to leave.”

  “I not—I am not under restraint?”

  “You can stay if you want to,” she told him crisply.

  He left in such a hurry that he forgot to tongue her good-bye. It was just as well. She was in no mood to deal with a wet Sakuntala tongue wrapping around her face.

  “You two. You can go outside, but stay in the building. I may need you later.”

  The two peaceforcers flashed simultaneous salutes. They had been sworn to secrecy concerning whatever took place in the administrator's office. Now they departed, themselves unsure of the significance of what they had just witnessed.

  That was because they had been given access to only a few pieces of the puzzle, she knew. The only one who held them all was Lauren Matthias, chief administrator of the Commonwealth Authority on Fluva. And that was the trouble. She only had pieces. Enough to visualize a finished picture. Not enough to lay before a tribunal.

  It would be nice to have a confession from the Hata-yuiqueru. One more bit of the puzzle. Bringing in Aniolo-jat, however, would not be quite as easy as sending peaceforcers to the head offices of the company Poutukaa. Like his fellow extremists, the Sakuntala war chief was hiding somewhere deep in the Viisiiviisii, directing the uprising. Utilizing the advanced technical resources at her command, she had no doubt she could locate him eventually. “Eventually,” however, was an imprecise length of time. She was far too angry to be patient.

  What else could she do? She had learned something from Pandusky's illegal but efficacious probe of various financial records. She had learned something more from her tense interview with the Sakuntala business-Hata Geladu-tiv. In gambler's parlance, she was on a roll. What did one do when she was on a roll? Leaning forward slightly, she addressed herself to the air. The appropriate concealed pickup relayed her v
oice to the outer office.

  “Sanuel. If he can be found, bring in the independent bioprospector Sethwyn Case.”

  “Straightaway, Administrator.” While Pandusky did not respond with enthusiasm, neither was he audibly upset. More than anything, he was plainly relieved that he was not being asked yet again to break into someone's restricted private financial records.

  18

  He did not look very happy. It was something of a shock. She was used to seeing him happy. Happy-go-lucky, at ease, grinning and laughing, ready to tease her with smile and laugh and eyes. Those eyes, she reflected. Those goddamned gorgeous, penetrating, seductive eyes. With an effort of will, she forced herself to meet them.

  Shaking himself free of the two peaceforcers who had escorted him into her office, Case spared them a single lingering murderous glance before shifting his attention to the quiet, poised redheaded woman seated behind the desk. On previous occasions he had always tried to read her mind. He did not know how fortunate he was that he could not.

  “I don't know what's going on, Lauren, but it isn't funny.”

  Her reply was one of studied calm. “You're right, Seth. It isn't funny.” Looking past him, she dismissed the peaceforcers. They retired to the outer office, leaving her alone with the bioprospector.

  As soon as the doorway sealed behind them, he turned back to her. His face was by turns flustered and furious. “Something's up, beautiful. Want to let me in on what it is?”

  “Right away, Seth. And from here on in it might be best if you address me as Administrator.” Her insides were churning again, but her voice was steady as strilk.

  He drew back from her, straightening stiffly. “Oh. So it's like that, is it?”

  She nodded slowly, painfully. “Yes, Seth. It's like that. I won't waste your valuable time.” She continued to study his face, his eyes. “I know that you're the one responsible for sabotaging the instrumentation of the two missing skimmers: the one piloted by the bioprospector Shadrach Hasselemoga, also known as Hasa, and the rescue craft that was sent to find him.”

  Mouth open, lips more than slightly parted, he stared down at her in disbelief. Then his familiar grin returned, jaunty and disarming. But it did not return, she felt, quite quickly enough.

  “You don't know anything of the sort,” he retorted with becoming self-confidence, “because it isn't true.”

  “Sure it is,” she replied with an assurance she was nowhere near feeling. “Hasselemoga is a competitor of yours. He took off to work the same territory where you were looking to make important discoveries. Probably boasted about where he was heading. Remember me asking you not long ago how your luck was going, and you telling me that you had some good prospects down south?”

  “Means nothing.” He shrugged it off. “The southern Viisiiviisii is an enormous place. In case you haven't noticed lately, there are only four cardinal bearings on the compass.”

  She pressed on, grimly self-possessed. “You were seen working around both of the missing craft. I have an eyewitness. You've received credit, a very large sum of credit, from an extremist Sakuntala Hata-yuiqueru, funneled through a legitimate Sakuntala company. The credit was disguised to conceal the magnitude of the overall amount, which makes the transfers even more suspicious.”

  “So what?” he challenged her. “Maybe my political leanings are morally hard for some people to understand, but they're not illegal. If I choose to support one Sakuntala political faction over another one, that's my decision.”

  She nodded appreciatively. “Thank you for telling me that. It explains why you told me you weren't worried about the Sakuntala giving you trouble during your explorations. ‘They won't bother me,' you said. No wonder you were so sure of yourself. You had a deal with a prominent war chief and could operate freely under his protection, even in the deep south.”

  He sighed heavily. “Look, if you don't have anything else—Administrator—unlike some people, I have real work to do.”

  Unable to contain herself, she started to rise from her chair. “The Sakuntala radicals approached you with an offer to make the Deyzara look bad, thus helping to mute human and therefore Commonwealth objections to the uprising against the Deyzara. Needing money in order to keep operating—and your financial records show that you were in serious fiscal straits before receiving the credit from Poutukaa—you offered to sabotage Hasselemoga's skimmer and spread the rumor that the Deyzara were somehow responsible. This opportunity dovetailed neatly with your desire to get rid of a dangerously efficient competitor nobody liked anyway. Then you had to do the same to the rescue skimmer to make sure no one would find your handiwork and possibly trace it back to you.” When he didn't respond, she pushed on.

  “You're finished, Seth. Your dire financial situation, your direct connection to the Sakuntala radicals, your need to eliminate Hasselemoga, plus the eyewitness who saw you monkeying with not one but both missing skimmers that I'm reliably told no Deyzara could have manipulated so subtly—it all fits together rather neatly, doesn't it? Not to mention your own words to me.” She glanced in the direction of floating time. “I'm expecting the Sakuntala Hata-yuiqueru Aniolo-jat any minute. He'll confirm what I've just said. Not that I need his confirmation to have you indicted.”

  For the first time since he'd been brought into her office, Case looked unsettled instead of irate. “You can't bring Aniolo-jat here. You don't know where he is.”

  Her eyes snapped sharply back up to lock onto his. “Don't I? I had an interview a while ago with Geladu-tiv, the head of the company Poutukaa. Your financial go-between. Think he doesn't know where the Hata he regularly pays off is residing?” She tried not to hold her breath, to remain calm, to give away nothing. Which, she knew, was what she had.

  From the moment she'd first met him, she'd thought of Sethwyn Case as indestructible, unyielding. A fit individual to challenge the lethal Viisiiviisii single-handedly. Tough, courageous, charming, knowledgeable, able to look Death in the face with one eye and stare it down even as he was enchanting someone like herself with the other. As the silence continued, she became convinced that there was no way this was going to work, no chance that she would gain the final piece of the rank, unfinished puzzle. He was going to turn and walk out of her office and she was not going to be able to do a damn thing about it.

  As she was contemplating the maddening failure that lay spread out before her in all its malign grandeur, he cracked.

  Though still outwardly defiant, he seemed to shrink before her. How she had ever thought this miserable narcissistic sorry slab of ambulating testosterone worthy of contemplated infidelity she now could not understand. The press of too much work was the only excuse she could come up with. She had been blinded by perspiration as much as by flattery. Given time, perhaps she could do better.

  She consoled herself with the knowledge that she was not the first woman in history who occupied a position of importance to have been so deceived.

  “I need the name of the individual in Port Security you paid off to help you circumvent interior surveillance.”

  Anesthetized by events, wholly preoccupied, he responded with a barely perceptible nod. That's when he pulled the injector.

  It was very small. Still, the peaceforcers who had brought him in should have found the medical device. Maybe they had, she thought, and Case had protested at having it confiscated. Or perhaps they had been preoccupied in the search for more overt weaponry. She would have to have a word with Security. Her serenity in the face of the device, loaded with chemicals of what potential deadliness she could not imagine, astonished her. It was possible she was too weary to be frightened.

  She kept her hands in plain sight. A sharp word would raise a defensive screen between her desk and the rest of the office. Unfortunately, he was too close and inside the potential barrier. A different word would bring the waiting peaceforcers running from the outer office. That might, she reflected calmly, take too much time. She favored him with a mixture of sadness and pity.
>
  “Are you going to shoot me with something, Seth? Here, in my office, in the heart of Administration? If you do, it had better be instantly lethal. Suppose you do? What happens afterward? You can't just walk out of here. I'd first have to tell the officers waiting in the outer room that it's okay for you to leave. Even if you could somehow con your way past them, then what? Where would you go? This is Fluva. You'd never be able to get off-world. Is that the existence you want to look forward to for the rest of your life, hiding out in the Viisiiviisii? Because you'd have to hide, you know. With the offer of a modest reward you'd have every Deyzara and Sakuntala on the planet looking for you.”

  The injector wavered along with the look on his face. Keeping the business end aimed in her direction, he worked his way around the desk until he was standing next to the window. The same window through which she had stared so long and so often ever since she had accepted her promotion to her present position. Beyond the protective exterior overhang, a light rain was visible.

  Still keeping his attention focused on her, he reached back with his free hand and tried to open the window. He failed, because there was no lock and no handle. She shook her head slowly.

  “Like so much else in this office, Seth, it only responds to my voice. Like the screen that's been up between you and me ever since you pulled that toy out of your pocket.”

  “You're lying.” His eyes flicked from side to side, searching for suggestions of an ethereal shield.

  She shrugged. “Then go ahead and try to shoot me. If you succeed, you're further damned. If you fail, I'll see you put up on charges of making the attempt. In addition to everything else.”

  He hesitated a moment longer. Then he put the nasty little power injector down on her desk and stepped back. A ghost of the familiar captivating smile she knew all too well played around the corners of his mouth.