by E. C. Tubb
"Sir?" The face frowned, wondering.
"This is Earl Dumarest. Connect me to the Cyclan." Dumarest heard the words, saw the face, the indecision turning to acquiescence. Again he said, this is Earl Dumarest. Connect me to the Cyclan." He could say nothing else.
A hand entered his vision, the nails shining with their coat of glistening black varnish, the needle points reflecting tiny splinters of light. A voice whispered a word in his ear, and suddenly he was free again.
"Forget that," he snapped. "Cancel the order."
"As you wish, sir." The face on the screen relaxed. 'It was an unusual request, but-"
"Forget it." Dumarest found he was sweating. "A mistake."
"Of course, marshal."
The screen died, and he turned to face the woman, her triumphant smile. "There is no cyber here on Chard, Earl. At least, not yet. But should you insist, the Cyclan will be contacted. And should you run, no matter where you go, that compulsion to call them will always be present. You see, my darling, just how helpless you are?"
Chapter Twelve
A saw whined, the note falling as the edge hit the bole, rising as the powered teeth ripped through the mass of fiber. A lofios fell, pollen rising in a cloud, to cover the heads and faces of masked men. They gripped it, dragged it to the center of the narrow clearing, fired it with the concentrated beams of lasers. Thick smoke rose unwavering into the windless air.
Smoke that ran in an unbroken line in a wide arc around the foot of the hills.
Turning from the screen, Colonel Oaken said bitterly, "Destruction. Savage, wanton destruction. Why did you order this, marshal? Are you trying to ruin us?"
"No, to protect you."
"By slashing down the lofios? Captain Louk had obeyed your order to form a line."
"It was unsatisfactory." Dumarest strode across the operations room to where the big contour map stood marked with colored points and lines. One, amber, ran in a short curve before another, blue, which told of the progress they were now making. "Look. If you were an enemy trying to get past, you could do it without trouble. The captain concentrated his forces facing the valleys, but no enemy would take the obvious route. My way is the best, a complete line twenty yards wide, giving clear vision to men and an open field for instruments."
"Rafts would have sufficed."
"No. They would have had to ride too high and maybe miss what we are looking for. Even so, rafts will also be used for general scan." Dumarest turned, impatient. "I know my trade, colonel. This line must be maintained; the truce depends on it."
"The truce." From where he sat at the table, Colonel Stone shook his head. "I'm not belittling what you did, marshal, but how can you be sure they will keep their word? Even while you were in the hills, two villages were destroyed, some of your own men killed. I hate to admit it, but I think that Colonel Oaken has a point. The Ayutha have changed. They have become savage. You should not have canceled our order for the punitive expeditions. A strong reprisal is the best deterrent."
"It is also the best method of creating antagonism."
"Marshal?"
"I warned you about this at the beginning," said Dumarest. "All wars tend to escalate. You hit them, and they will want to hit you. Then you hit them again, harder this time, and get the same in return. If that is the kind of war you want to fight, I want none of it. I find no pleasure in seeing a world tear itself apart."
Colonel Paran said quietly, "We gave the marshal full responsibility while in the field, gentlemen. In any case, the attacks were made before the truce. Also, the destruction is not as bad as it seems; the lofios can be regrown. I suggest we hear his motives before we condemn him."
"Am I on trial?"
"No, marshal, the word was badly chosen."
Perhaps, but it carried the tone of the Council, the criticisms they were eager to make. To Captain Louk Dumarest said, "Disperse the men, as I ordered. Individuals set at twenty-yard intervals, regular watches of two hours on, two off. Set monitoring posts behind the line with scanners aimed toward the hills. No firing; that is essential. In fact, you had better disarm the men on watch."
"Disarm them?" Lome sounded dubious. "Is that wise, sir? They wont like it, and if the Ayutha should attack at night-"
"Guns won't save them," interrupted Dumarest curtly. "But some trigger-happy fool could break the truce. The rafts can be armed in case of emergency, but if anyone opens fire without waiting for orders, he will be court-martialed and shot. I mean that, captain."
Louk swallowed, thinking of Corm, the way he had died. Rumor had exaggerated the incident, forgetting the mercy of the shot, concentrating instead on the captain's disobedience. "Yes, sir."
"And see that my orders are obeyed as given." Dumarest's voice matched the anger on his face. "I want no further compromises. That line should be finished by now, would have been if you hadn't dallied." To a junior officer he said, "What is the weather report?"
"Some cloud, with a high possibility of rain, sir."
"Wind?"
"None, and the air should remain steady."
"You expect the rain when?"
"At nightfall, sir. It should be widespread over the entire lofios area."
"Good." To the waiting colonels Dumarest said, "Now, gentlemen, I am at your service."
They sat at a table in a room paneled with softly grained wood, wine standing beside maps, glasses of water, jugs of ice. Comforts for a heated day. But the comfort was illusory, the meeting more of an inquisition than Dumarest would have liked.
"About Captain Corm," said Stone. "I know his father. He is disturbed by the reports. Did you actually kill him?"
"I shot him to save him pain."
"Couldn't he have been saved?"
"He was burning. We were under attack. Men would have died to bring him to shelter, and we would have saved nothing but a corpse." Dumarest shrugged. "That is a detail. The truce is more important. As I told you, the agreement is that they will not harm any of our people. In return, I gave a similar promise. I believe they will keep their word. I intend to make certain that we do."
"The line," said Paran. "A barrier?"
"A test." Dumarest riffled the papers before him, found the one he wanted. "I ordered Captain Louk to send men to search the ground around those villages that were destroyed. The latest ones. This is their finding. Nowhere could they find any sign that the ground had been disturbed other than by our own people." He looked at their blank faces. "Don't you realize what this means?"
"The Ayutha are savages," said Oaken. "They wouldn't leave tracks."
"We are assuming they are using gas. If so, it must be transported in containers of some kind. Unless they approached actually within the villages, those containers must have been launched by some apparatus. We had men alert, on guard-did they report seeing any of the Ayutha?"
"No," said Paran. "I made a point of questioning each man. They were masked, of course; that is why they survived, but…" He broke off, frowning.
"The Ayutha are close enough to humans-in fact, are human-be to affected by the same gases that we are. They don't have the technology to make respirators. If they released gas, they must have done it from a distance, or some of them would have been affected." Dumarest looked around the table. "No one has ever reported seeing any of the Ayutha at any place which has been attacked," he said deliberately. "No signs were found of any launching apparatus when I searched for them. As far as I can determine, there is only one logical answer. The Ayutha aren't responsible for this trouble at all."
He leaned back, waiting for the explosion, the burst of unthinking protestation, inevitable from men who had firmly made up their minds.
Oaken said, "Are you out of your mind, marshal? Are you telling us that none of this has happened?"
"I'm saying that as far as I know, the Ayutha aren't responsible."
"That's ridiculous!" Oaken scowled. "Just what kind of a deal did you make up in the hills? Did they brainwash you or something?"
"What for? In case he treats me like he did the captain? You heard what he said. All those people, men, women, children, and he says that those savages aren't behind it. They have to be!"
Stone, less explosive, more shrewd, said, "What are you saying, marshal?"
"You heard what I said, colonel." Dumarest glanced at Oaken. "Some of you may not want to hear it-it could be interesting to find out why. In most wars, some people usually manage to make a profit. A war needs an enemy; the Ayutha are convenient Maybe they have to stay the enemy until certain deals are completed."
"I know what you mean, Earl," said Paran grimly. "But, take it from me, nothing like that is going on here."
"As far as you know, colonel," reminded Dumarest. He didn't press the matter; it had served to shock them, to gain their attention. "Look at the evidence. Not one of the original messages says anything about the Ayutha; all they rave about is monsters. Well, we know why: the gas had affected their minds. Add to that the fact that no traces of launching apparatus have been found, that no Ayutha dead were discovered, that when I spoke to them they denied they had ever attacked a village, that monitoring rafts discovered no trace of any moving body of men in the area under attack, and I think we have a very good reason for assuming their innocence."
"Assuming?"
"We can't be positive without more proof," admitted Dumarest. "That is why I ordered the construction of the line. No one can pass it without being seen. I've had men and rafts search the lofios area, and no trace of the Ayutha has been discovered. Now, if another village is destroyed, what must we assume?"
"I see your point," said Stone. "If they weren't in the area, then they couldn't have done it."
"They could." Oaken was definite. "They are cunning; they could leave the hills to the north and swing in a circle past the ends of the line. Damnit, marshal, you don't need me to tell you that."
"Outside the lofios the ground is pretty open," said Dumarest patiently. "Rafts will spot any movement." He reached for another paper. "This is the computer findings on the attacks. When you look at the map, they seem absolutely random, but that doesn't make sense if directed by a force operating from the hills. Men can travel on foot only so far in a day. Equipment would be heavy, and the danger of discovery enhanced the farther they penetrated. Yet villages close to the hills were missed and others, much more distant, attacked."
Oaken scowled. "So?"
"You're convinced the Ayutha are the enemy. I'm trying to show you that they needn't be. For example, if I wanted to ruin the economy of Chard, I could work from the city, delivering stores, maybe, cases containing gas and timed charges. Any chemist could make such things. If that was the case, then the random pattern makes sense."
Another shock, but now they were not so quick to protest. He had shaken their iron confidence, shown them that what seemed to be obvious was not always the correct answer. As they sat, brooding, he filled a glass with water, added ice, sat with the frosted container in his hand.
Oaken said, "You put up a good argument, marshal, but it isn't good enough. You say the Ayutha can't be responsible; I say they are. No civilized man would spread nerve gas among harmless people. They told you they hadn't done it, and you believed them. Why? How can the ones you spoke to know everything that's going on?"
"That's right," said Stone. "And they've changed. You saw that for yourself. The flame bombs they used-how would primitives have made them without help? And if they had help to make those things, they could have had more." He added pointedly, "You must have thought of that."
"Yes," said Dumarest.
"And guessed who could be responsible?"
"Yes," he said again.
"Those damned social workers!" Oaken slammed his fist on the table. "Of course! We assumed they had been killed, but suppose they hadn't? Some of them were clever and skilled with their hands. They could have been taken prisoner, forced to teach the Ayutha to make gas, other things. There's your answer, marshal. I say to hell with the truce. Let's go in now and end this thing once and for all."
Dumarest said, "You can't. You daren't."
The phone rang before anyone could answer. It was Zenya. She said quickly, "Earl, I'm sorry, but I have to talk to you. It's Lisa, she-"
"I am in conference."
"I know." The face was stubborn, the tone to match. "The operator told me, but this can't wait. She said that you wanted me to-"
He sensed the coming indiscretion and snapped, "I told you that I was in conference. Naturally your aunt will stay in our suite for the duration of her visit. Entertain her. Urgent business will prevent my seeing either of you for a while."
"Please, Earl. I need you."
He said harshly, "And so does the war. My place is in the field. I suggest, my lady, that you remember yours."
And remember too the listening ears, the watchful eyes, the indiscretions and the jealousy which could ruin his pretense. Lisa had been goading her-that was obvious; and like a child, she had sought his help and reassurance. Well, let them fight if they wished; he would stay away from both until one problem, at least, had been solved.
Oaken said, "What did you mean, marshal? We can't go in. We daren't."
"Think about it." Dumarest looked at his glass. The ice had dissolved; the water was cold, refreshing. "As you pointed out and as I know to my cost, they have flame-bomb launchers. Small, perhaps, but they can be made larger, the bombs also. Go into the hills, and they will scatter. You will need thousands of men to comb every nook and cranny, and at least a quarter of those men will die. You doubt it?" He looked from Stone to Oaken, seeing their faces, merchants who believed that a large enough number of men would ensure certain victory. "If I worked for the Ayutha and not for you, I could maintain this conflict until you were bled white. Every soldier you sent would bring me arms and ammunition. Rafts could be shot down from the sky. Unless you used radioactives, I would turn those hills into a citadel. I would lose, eventually, but only because of the limited number of my men. But I assure you, it would take years."
Dumarest refilled his glass, conscious of thirst, the tension caused by fatigue and mounting strain.
He continued, "The Ayutha are telepathic A rudimentary talent, perhaps, but enough to give them a close-knit network of communications equal to if not better than our own. And you forget how vulnerable you are. Destroy the lofios, and you have lost the war. With more powerful launchers and larger bombs, they could do just that. Fire is the best friend of the guerrilla. One man can destroy a city by its means. The Ayutha have thousands." He ended, "I suggest you do it my way, gentlemen. It might not be as spectacular, but believe me, in the long run it will be far cheaper."
Colonel Paran said, "Earl, do you trust the Ayutha?"
"I think they have a genuine desire to end this conflict, yes."
"Why?"
"Because they are afraid," said Dumarest bluntly. "Because they are basically gentle. Because they are human."
And because they were telepathic and knew the danger inherent in the carrying of weapons. The arrogance, aggressiveness, insensitivity, and contempt the power to kill gave a man unless consciously controlled. He had seen the results of military castes on a dozen worlds, and all had followed a path that led to the inevitable destruction of all that was kind and gentle. When respect became equated with force, only brutality could hope to survive.
Chapter Thirteen
Someone had lit a fire, a small thing of burning twigs, spluttering a little as it rested in a shallow dip at the edge of the line. It glowed, a patch of brightness in the night, a thing built more for comfort than anything else. Smoke rose from it, a thin plume breaking as it reached the height of the lofios, to ripple in a delicate fan.
From beside it a corporal rose, saluting. "Sir!"
"Anything to report?"
"No, sir."-the soldier leaned forward, squinting-"marshal. Not a thing. Everything as silent as a grave."
T
he association disturbed him. He added, "That is, sir, a-"
" 'Boy creeping up on a girl hoping to kiss her unawares,' " said Dumarest. "I understand, corporal." He glanced at the fire; the ashes were too red, too bright. "Better bank that."
"Kill it, sir!"
"No." There would be other fires, and orders could be enforced only so far. "Just cover the embers so you won't lose your night vision. I want sharp eyes when you go on watch. Worried, soldier?"
"I'd be happier with a rifle, sir."
"You're covered, so don't worry. Just remember that there's a promotion for the man who spots any of the Ayutha and keeps his head. I hope you win it, corporal. You'd make a fine officer."
Bribery, but everything helped. As Dumarest passed on down the line, Captain Hamshard, at his side, said, "Do you think anything will happen, sir?"
"Such as?"
"Well… another attack."
" 'Incident' would be a better word, captain, but I know what you mean. The answer is no. I don't think the Ayutha will attack."
"The truce seems to be working, sir." Hamshard returned the salute of a man barely visible as he stood at the edge of the line. "No trouble last night, none at all yesterday, everything quiet so far. Let's hope that it will last."
Last night had come the promised rain; the day had been windless, but now the weather was changing. Dumarest remembered the thin column of smoke, breaking as it reached higher levels. He looked up at the sky, saw cloud and hoped for more rain.
He said, "Continue down the line, captain. Make sure that every man remains alert. If you need me, I'll be in the command post."
It was a tent set well back from the line, men busy at communicators as they received reports from the monitoring posts. Portable lamps threw a dull glow, softly crimson, light designed to retain the visual purple. As Dumarest entered, Lieutenant Paran rose from a field desk.
"Movement spotted in the foothills, sector nine, sir." He rested a finger on a map. "A small party, by the look of it, approaching the line."
