Anthony, Piers - Tyrant 4 - Executive

by Anthony, Piers

  Chapter 6 — AMBER

  The next two years saw significant developments in both the planetary and personal schemes. I don't want to dwell unduly on matters that are already a matter of public record, so I will skim somewhat, touching mostly on what is not in that record. I want the story of the Tyrancy to be complete, and I have no certainty that those who survive me will care to make it so.

  I think it was about ten hours later when Ebony woke us. "The Saturn ship's pulling in," she said, touching my shoulder.

  "Go away," I mumbled, turning my face away.

  She had been with me for over fifteen years. She knew what to do. "Get up, Tyrant, or I'll haul you off that bed."

  When I did not respond, she took hold of my chest and turned me over, rolling me toward the edge of the bed. I grabbed her and hauled her down into me. "You sleep too."

  Captive, she moved one hand to my rib cage and tickled me. "No fair!" I cried, and wrestled her into place for a kiss.

  Ebony was no beautiful woman, but she knew how to kiss. I realized immediately that I was getting into more than was feasible. She, like Shelia and Coral, was ready to take me as far as I cared to go. But I could not afford to go there at the moment; I had business coming up. So I broke without comment, but I squeezed her shoulder briefly by way of saying "Another time." I don't know whether those who don't know me personally will understand about this. Helse introduced me to the joys of sex, and the Navy had introduced me to the advantage of doing it with any woman handy. I had been a long time away from both Helse and the Navy, but the old reflexes were returning readily enough. My staff understood me; not one of the girls had touched me while I remained with Megan, but they regarded it as open season now. I am sure that none of them ever spoke to any outside party of what passed privately between us; it was, as it were, all in the family. In this context it was Ebony's turn. When convenient.

  I got up. Coral had gotten up during the scuffle, not interfering. The girls never interfered with each other; they meshed perfectly. It was comfortable being with them, and this helped me considerably in those early days of my separation from Megan.

  In due course Spirit and I, both cleaned and changed, boarded the Saturn shuttle ship. I wore a voluminous, flowing cape that someone had deemed to be the fitting attire for a Tyrant making a call of State. It might seem strange to have the leader of Jupiter so blithely step into the power of Saturn, without even his bodyguard, but, of course, I knew Khukov personally, and the whole of the Solar System was hostage to our understanding. I was as safe as I could possibly be, here.

  We relaxed and had an excellent meal served by a comely hostess who spoke English. The personnel were uniformly courteous, though they did not speak English. We were permitted free run of the ship.

  "Where would you put it?" I asked Spirit in Spanish.

  "Officer's dayroom," she replied.

  I nodded. We rose from our completed meal, went to the region reserved for the ship's captain, and knocked on the bulkhead. In a moment it slid open, and we entered.

  Inside stood a pool table, and beyond the table stood Admiral Khukov, cue in hand. Without a word I took another cue, oriented on the table, and took the first shot. Spirit took a seat in a comfortable chair and watched. No one seemed surprised; this was the only way a truly private meeting could be arranged.

  We played, and he beat me handily. "Ah, Hope, you are out of shape!" he said in Spanish.

  "Tyrants don't get much practice in the important things, Mikhail," I agreed in Russian. We smiled at each other; obviously our conversation was private, for he would never have betrayed his knowledge of my language to others. My response showed that I understood, for no one aside from my sister knew that I spoke Russian. We had taught each other when we both served on Ganymede. It was one of the private understandings we had.

  We continued playing. Now we spoke in English, so Spirit could understand. "There will be the usual apparatus, every word and gesture recorded and analyzed from the moment you board the flagship. Speak no secrets there."

  "My brain is not out of shape, Admiral!"

  "When your wife cried 'For the love of God!' and you turned away, Karzhinov knew that nothing would turn the madman aside. He faced the gulf of the holocaust, and his mind broke. We of Saturn know the nature of war on our soil; we fear it deeply. He will retire; his successor is not yet known."

  So my ploy had been successful! I prayed that never again would I have to hurt Megan that way. "We, too, know the meaning of losses," I said, remembering the destruction of my family in space.

  "Yet our two planets proceed to ever greater military effort," he said. "We can destroy Jupiter nine times over, and you can destroy Saturn ten times over, but there is no end to the race of new weapons."

  "Madness," I agreed.

  "Madness," he echoed.

  We gazed at each other, each perceiving the pain of the past and fear for the future in the other. No, we did not want this!

  "Two scorpions in a bottle," I said.

  He smiled briefly. "Would that they were male and female!"

  "Yet perhaps..."

  "Is it possible?"

  There was a period of silence. Then I changed the subject. "Shouldn't you be there, not here?" I asked.

  "First I must negotiate a significant agreement, to show that I alone can defuse the crisis."

  "What do you need?"

  "Your dance with the premier of Ganymede is very pretty."

  "This would be more difficult at light-hours range."

  "Yet the game can be played with caution. I cannot say precisely what moves I will need to make, but if the madman responds only to me..."

  I nodded. "And thereafter?"

  "What would you have, Hope?"

  I glanced at Spirit. "Disarmament," she said.

  He grimaced. "Of course. But there is the People's Republic of South Saturn."

  "Which has no significant navy," I countered. "It is the interplanetary threat that concerns us."

  "And us!" he agreed. "We do not desire destruction, but we have had no trust."

  "Until now, Mikhail."

  "Until now," he agreed. "Yet it must be gradual. First a hold, then failure to replace aging craft."

  "Agreed."

  We reached across the table and shook hands.

  "I have a gift for you," he said after a moment.

  "We did not come prepared for the exchange of gifts," I protested.

  "You give me the power, that is enough. Accept my token with the assurance that there is no harm in it and certain hidden values."

  I shrugged. "Of course."

  "And for the formal meeting: only a truce and token withdrawal. My present authority is more limited than yours, Tyrant."

  "Understood."

  We played several more games, and I began to give him more of a challenge. Then we had to leave, so that there would be no suspicion. As I had suspected, not even the crew of the shuttle knew that the admiral was aboard.

  In due course the shuttle docked at the flagship, and we were ceremonially ushered aboard. We met under the cameras with Khukov, using translators, he addressing us in Russian, I responding in Spanish. We both talked tough but agreed to a temporary truce while Chairman Karzhinov considered his retirement. My words were reasonable, but there was a certain glimmer of madness in my expression, and Spirit cautioned me more than once, quietly, as if fearing that I was about to be set off. The Saturn officers present affected unconcern, but they noticed. Yet I responded fairly well to Admiral Khukov's direct attention; it was evident that he had a superior touch. This was hardly surprising; it was that touch that had brought him to his present level of power—and would take him that one step beyond. Saturn was safer when his hand was at the helm, especially when dealing with the lunatic Tyrant.

  Thus the official meeting was perfunctory but satisfactory. It was obvious that the admiral and the Tyrant distrusted each other but were ready to deal. What would count would be the success of th
ose dealings.

  Khukov formally introduced me to his aide, another admiral, who would be in charge of the Saturn Jupiter-sphere fleet during Khukov's absence. "Speak to him as you would to me," he said, flashing a caution signal by his body language that only he and I could read. "He converses in both our languages, Russian and English, and is empowered to act without delay."

  So the other admiral could push the button if attacked but did not speak Spanish. He was surely competent, for Khukov knew his personnel as I knew mine. Indeed, as I shook his hand, I felt his power as a person. This was one good, tough, honest man who would not act carelessly.

  As we prepared to depart the flagship Khukov held me one more moment. "Tyrant, allow me to present you with a token of my esteem for you," he said in English.

  A young girl, really a child of ten or eleven, approached. She held her left hand up. On the middle finger was a platinum ring, and mounted on the ring was a large amber gem. In fact, it was not merely the color of amber; it was amber itself.

  I took the child's hand and peered at the amber. It was clear and finely formed, and deep inside it was embedded an insect—a termite. I smiled, taking this as a kind of little joke, for a termite is not a pretty bug. But I was aware of something else: the one whose hand I held was no ordinary child. There was a curious vacuity about her, a lack of human emotion and expression. Had she been lobotomized? No, to my perception her reflexes were normal, merely uninvoked. Mind-wash? Possibly.

  "This is an interesting gift," I said, glancing up at Khukov. "But it becomes the girl, and I would hesitate to take it from her."

  He smiled. "No need, Tyrant."

  Spirit caught on. "The girl is the gift," she murmured.

  "The girl!" I said, startled.

  "As you say, it would not be kind to take her treasure from her," Khukov said. "I know you treat children well, Tyrant, and she is of your culture. You will find her interesting."

  "But—"

  "Thank you, Admiral Khukov," Spirit said firmly. "We shall see that she is properly treated. What is her name?"

  "Amber," he replied, and at that, the girl's eyes widened and her head lifted in recognition.

  "Come with us, Amber," Spirit said gently. The girl did not change expression, but she stepped toward Spirit. Evidently she understood.

  So we returned to the shuttle and to Jupiter, bringing Amber with us. And strange was the avenue that acquiescence opened for me.

  The first thing we noted was that Amber was mute. She understood what we said and responded to it, but she did not speak. We had our medical staff examine her and ascertained that she had no congenital or other inhibition; she could speak but simply did not.

  The next thing we learned was that she was older than she seemed. Without her birth record we could not be sure, but physically she was about thirteen, not eleven. She seemed younger because she had not yet developed. This did not seem to be any artificial retardation, just natural variation. There had been a time, historically, when few girls developed before that age, but modern nutrition and care had reduced the age. Hopie had assumed the physical attributes of maturity by the age of twelve, for example. The intellectual and social attributes took longer to complete, but, of course, this could be a lifelong process, anyway. Amber was healthy, just a little slow. It was difficult to verify her intelligence nonverbally because she did not volunteer things. If, for example, a person told her to assemble the pieces of a simple plastic puzzle, she would do so but without any particular initiative. It was evident that she could do it faster, but she lacked the drive. Our conclusion was that she fell within the low-normal range. Certainly she was no genius.

  Why had Khukov given her to me? I was sure he had not done so frivolously. He had to have had excellent reason. Members of my staff worried that it could be some kind of trap, that she carried poison or a weapon, but I did not accept that. First, there was no evidence of anything like that about her person; our personnel were sharp enough to catch anything potentially dangerous. Second, Khukov would not have done that. He didn't operate that way, and he had no motive. His own success depended on my cooperation, and he wanted me to remain in power. So whatever there was about Amber—and there definitely was something—it was no threat to me. He had said I would find her interesting; in that he was correct, merely because of the mystery of her. But there was more than mystery. He had had compelling reason to put her in my hands.

  We set her up with Hopie, who had a room with Robertico. Hopie was entitled to a room of her own, but she was generous in this respect; she shared. Robertico was devoted to her and slept quietly when she was near. Amber, though only two years younger than Hopie—possibly only one year younger—was so obviously better off with company that it seemed best to move her in. The two of them became like sisters, and Robertico a baby brother.

  Hopie found the riddle of Amber as intriguing as Spirit and I did. She talked with the girl, or rather to her, for Amber never responded in words. Hopie soon became a kind of translator for Amber, ascertaining her preferences and informing us of them. Amber liked Hispanic food and didn't care for sonic showers; she preferred to wash up with a damp cloth. She always wore the amber ring; the only time she became truly distressed was when the medics tried to remove it for examination. They had finally compromised by examining it on her hand, the radiation showing up her finger bones as well as the interior of the ring, and she had no objection. Hopie wanted to teach her to read, for she seemed not to know how, but Amber just stared blankly at the printed words. She was unable to relate to anything more technical than pictures.

  Meanwhile, the crisis of Saturn abated. In accordance with the truce we pulled back our ships, which were oriented on Saturn, and they pulled back theirs, which were oriented on Jupiter. The fighting on Ganymede halted in place. Admiral Khukov returned to Saturn and worked his magic there, and in a fortnight he was formally announced as the new Chairman of the Council of Ministers, along with assorted other titles appropriate to the power base. Our Navy cooperated by showing evident respect for his prowess as a leader, retreating somewhat when he challenged and failing to do so when others did. Gradually the citizens of both planets resumed their breathing.

  The formal arrangements were to spread out over some months, but the informal ones proceeded immediately. We dismantled our mock invasion of Ganymede, quietly returning our troops to their bases. The official death toll remained at just about twenty thousand gringos, but no list was published, "for reasons of security." The families of the men were satisfied to know that their particular loved ones were not on the list and did not inquire about the others. That was just as well, for, of course, there were no dead on either side.

  Saturn abandoned its effort to corrupt Tanamo Base, and the premier of Ganymede retained his power. Trade, originally limited to sugar, gradually broadened; it again became possible and even acceptable to smoke Gany cigars. Of course, that market was small; the ancient habit of inhaling from burning tubes of tobacco had been banished for health reasons centuries before, and with the addictive compulsion gone, few bothered to draw on cigars merely for the taste. But symbolically it was important to Gany, and it was true that they had always made the best taste-only cigars.

  The ongoing business of government socked back in the moment the crisis abated. First to reach me was Senator Stonebridge. He came armed with statistics and graphs, a bewildering array, but the essence was this: "Tyrant, the budget cannot possibly be balanced without a substantial reduction in spending," he informed me forcefully.

  "What does the government of Jupiter spend most on?" I inquired with assumed naïveté.

  "Well, that depends on your orientation. The social services—"

  "I'll have to consult with my sister Faith before I approve any reduction there."

  "Sir, your sister has grandiose aspirations for the eradication of poverty at the government's expense!"

  "So I gather. What other categories?"

  "The military. But, of course, n
o chances can be taken with planetary defense—"

  "Suppose we were to put a freeze on all military spending?"

  "You mean to hold the level at the current—"

  "No. To stop spending for arms entirely."

  He tried to laugh, but it didn't work. "Sir, in the face of the present System situation—"

  "How much would it assist in the balancing of the budget?"

  "But it is pointless to—under no circumstances could—"

  "I have never seen you at a loss for figures before, Senator."

  He coughed. "Assuming that other income and outlays remain constant, such a step would, on paper, achieve the objective. But—"

  "Assume that Saturn is no further threat to Jupiter," I said. "What would interfere with a zero military budget?"

  He came to grips with this problem. "Sir, there are existing contractual commitments that—"

  "What commitments?"

  "Orders for new weapons systems, research and development costs, maintenance—"

  "Who made those commitments?"

  "The government, of course! It—"

  "The former government," I said firmly. "Today there is the Tyrancy. I have made no commitments for new weapons."

  "But, sir, you cannot renege on it. It would devastate the credibility of—"

  "I expect to make my own credibility. What would be the immediate consequence of a cancellation of all military commitments?"

  He got canny. "Well, sir, a substantial portion relates to pensions and care for those disabled in action."

  Ouch! I couldn't cut off payments to the wounded and retired! "Keep that portion," I said.

  "And if the contracts with private enterprise are canceled, quite a substantial portion of Jupiter industry would be bankrupted. Those companies have made heavy investments—"

  And the last thing I wanted was wholesale bankruptcy in our major industries. That would throw millions of people out of work and make twice the problem for Faith, as well as being a poor reflection on the Tyrant's ability to manage the economy. "Point made," I said. "It is not feasible at this moment to balance the budget by cutting off all military expense. But I do plan to cancel all new military projects, and that should result in a substantial and increasing savings over the years."