by Peter Grant
Please take your son and go with the man who will bring you this letter. He will take you to a rendezvous, from where you will be taken to meet your daughter. I apologize for not being more specific, but all will be explained in due course.
You do not know me personally, but I hope my office as a Brotherhood Councilor will convince you that I am serious, and persuade you to do as I ask. Please do not hesitate for even a moment. Go with this man, and take your son, and you will soon learn more.
Say nothing about this to anyone else. The time is not yet right. They will be informed soon.
Yours in the Patriarch’s service.
“Pal Sejdiu? I don’t know the man, but he was praised to the skies by Agim Nushi when he was voted onto the Council. He sounds like a good man.”
“He is, sir,” Afrim assured him. “I’ve known Pal for years. He’s the Head of Security for our space operations, and more besides. I’d trust him with my life.”
“Then we’ll do as he says. Vasil!”
A younger man’s startled voice came from the rear of the house. “Father?”
“Come here at once! We are going out!”
“But, Father, what about lunch at Tirina’s? All my friends are expecting me!”
“This is about Aferdita! Are you dressed?”
“Aferdita? Is she home at last? Hold on.”
There came the sound of clothes and shoes being flung around a room. Afrim had to hide his smile. He could remember being a teenager himself, once upon a time.
A young man appeared, pulling a T-shirt hastily over tousled, unkempt hair. “Is it really Aferdita, father?”
“So this man tells me – or, rather, so the letter he brought tells me. Look!” He held out the photograph to his son, who goggled at it, then turned to Afrim. “That’s it? We must come just as we are? Let me get the car out of the garage.”
“Please hurry, sir. There’s no time to waste. You can follow my van, and the other vehicles will follow you.”
“Very well. Aferdita! After all this time! We’d feared the worst!” He hugged his wife. “All right. Let’s go!”
“Thank you, sir. We’ve just got one more stop, at Pal Sejdiu’s home, where his children will be waiting for us. They’re going to the rendezvous, too. After that, we’ll be on our way.”
The afternoon was drawing on when they heard, faint in the distance, the battering sound of reaction thrusters sinking toward the spaceport. Afrim looked out and up, to see a cutter approaching the small warehouse where they were waiting, at the end of the hardstand. “I think this is our ride,” he called over his shoulder.
“At last!” Mrs. Tahiri said, half-scoldingly. “We’ve been here for hours!”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I know no more than you do about what’s next. All Pal told me was to bring everyone here, then wait for someone to collect us. We’ll all learn more soon, I am sure.”
The cutter touched down in front of the warehouse, bouncing lightly on its gel-filled tires. It was clearly lightly laden. It turned around, backed up to the warehouse, and lowered its rear ramp. A man in spacer’s uniform trotted down it and over to the door.
“You’re the party for Pal Sejdiu?” he asked cheerfully.
“We are,” Afrim replied, shaking his hand. “Is he here?”
“You’ll be told more aboard the ship.”
“We’re going into space?” Mrs. Tahiri exclaimed. “But what about our passports? We don’t have them with us!”
“Not to worry, ma’am,” the spacer assured her. “We can take care of any formalities from the ship. I need you to board right away, please. It’ll take us an hour or two to reach her, then I’ve got to come back for some more people.”
“I – but – I’m not sure… darling?”
Her husband took her hand in his. “The only way to learn more is to go along with this, my love. Remember that picture of Aferdita. If she looks that happy, I don’t think there’s anything to worry about.”
He pulled her gently through the door and toward the cutter, eagerness written all over his face. Their son followed.
“Now that looks like a man who’s learned how to cope with his wife,” the spacer said mock-seriously as he watched them.
Afrim laughed. “I should have tried that myself,” he said as he picked up his overnight bag and followed the spacer. “I might still be married if I had!”
They arrived at the spaceship almost two hours later. The cutter slid into the airlock in her docking bay, and disgorged its passengers into a spartan, bare-metal foyer that contained no creature comforts whatsoever. Clearly, this was a working freighter.
An officer was waiting for them. “This way, please, ladies and gentlemen,” he said politely, ushering them toward the high-speed walkway that ran up and down the main corridor. “Be careful how you step onto the conveyor. Careful… there you are, ma’am. I’m taking you to our passenger quarters.”
The ‘passenger quarters’ proved to be a temporary passenger pod, installed in one of the freighter’s smaller holds. There was only one entrance. Ten double cabins, very small by planetary standards, led off a central reception and dining area. It was equipped with a long table and benches for meals, and some more or less comfortable armchairs around a vid display in one corner. A communal fresher was at the other end of the room.
“Please sit down,” their host invited. “I have a vid to play for you.” He took up a remote control unit, and pressed a button.
Aferdita Tahiri and Jehona Sejdiu appeared in the display. They were seated on a well-grassed lawn, next to a hedge bristling with brightly colored flowers. Most of the watchers exclaimed with surprise and joy to see them.
Jehona spoke first. She introduced herself to those who did not know her, and went on, “I’m sure this all seems very mysterious to you. It may even seem threatening, because it will involve temporary restrictions. Believe me, it is not threatening. In fact, it’s the very opposite of threatening. I can’t explain more now, but soon, when we meet, you’ll be told everything. Meanwhile, please do all that the crew of that spaceship ask you to do. They’ll take you to another planet, where we will be waiting.”
Mrs. Tahiri exclaimed, “But that’s impossible! We have no luggage, no clothes!”
As if she’d heard her, Jehona went on, “You’ll be provided with basic spacer clothing for the journey. It won’t be anything to speak of, but it will suffice. We’ll shop for more clothes when you get here. Just trust me – this is good, not bad. Don’t argue, don’t object, just do this, please.”
Next it was Aferdita’s turn. “Mother, Father, Vasil, I hope you’re watching this. I’m alive, and well, and very happy. In fact, I’m married!” Laughing, she held up her hand, showing engagement and wedding rings gleaming on her finger. Her family exclaimed in shock.
“You’ll meet my husband when you get here. He’ll be a very nice surprise to Jehona’s children, too, because they know him. Please do as Jehona says. Go with the ship, and obey the orders of the crew, and don’t argue. I’m sorry to sound mysterious, but there are good reasons for it. You’ll be told about them when you get here.”
The vid came to an end, and the officer turned to face them. “There. You’ve heard all I’m able to tell you right now. Please choose cabins for yourselves at one side of the pod. There’ll be a few more people joining us later this evening; they’ll take cabins on the other side. We’ll depart at about midnight. The journey will take about two weeks. A meal will be served shortly, then we’ll get your sizes and issue you with clothing. It’ll be pretty simple: spacer’s utility coveralls, underwear, socks and soft shoes. That’s all we have in our stores. We’ll also give you towels and basic toiletries.”
They tried to ask questions, but he would say only, “Wait until you get where we’re going, then you’ll be told. Believe me, I don’t know more than you’ve already heard.”
“But this is impossible!” Mr. Tahiri stormed. “I have an important business meeting tomo
rrow! I can’t just not show up!”
“Sir, that meeting will not take place.” The officer’s voice was flat, emphatic. “The others scheduled to attend – if they’re part of your Brotherhood – won’t be there either.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sir, didn’t you listen earlier? I can’t tell you yet. You’ll have to wait.”
“No! I refuse! I’m going to call my partner now, and have him get to the bottom of this!”
He pulled out his comm unit, but stared as he realized that there was no signal. “What’s the meaning of this? This unit should work fine in orbit! Are you jamming the signal?”
“Inside this pod, yes, sir, we are. I repeat: there are reasons. You’ll be told about them in due course.”
“Then I’m going to call from the docking bay!”
The officer sighed. “Sir, you won’t be allowed to leave this pod. There’s an armed guard on the door right now. He will shoot you if you try to force your way past him. He’ll do his best to wound you, rather than kill you; but he will stop you, any way he has to.”
Mr. Tahiri stared at him disbelievingly for a moment, then rushed to the door. He yanked it open, only to find a carbine-carrying crewman standing outside. As the spacer saw him, he hefted the carbine in both hands and moved forward.
“Sir, you need to go back inside, right now.”
“But – but…”
“Right now, sir!” The spacer physically pushed him inside, then glanced at the officer. “All in order, sir?”
“All in order, spacer. Carry on.”
“Aye aye, sir.” He gently closed the door.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Tahiri. I tried to warn you. I think that tomorrow, we may be able to tell you a little more, but that will depend on factors beyond my control. Most of it will have to wait until you reach your daughter, and she can explain.”
The businessman shook his head. Anger, frustration and bewilderment chased each other across his features. “I don’t believe this!”
“Believe it, sir. In a couple of weeks, I think you’ll be truly grateful that right now, you’re up here instead of planetside.”
Mrs. Tahiri said plaintively, tears in her eyes, “But – our house, our garden, our… our cat!”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Is your cat kept indoors?”
“N-no, she goes in and out as she pleases. There’s a cat door.”
“Then she’ll be all right, ma’am. Don’t worry about her. My wife and I have cats, so I understand them. There’s an old saying: ‘Dogs have owners, cats have staff’. She’ll find new staff, and she’ll do just fine.”
28
Extermination
PATOS
The repeated, insistent, urgent knocking on the front door woke Agim from a sound sleep. He cursed as he pulled himself away from the soft, warm body of his wife, rolled over, and looked at the time display. Three in the morning? Who the hell is disturbing us at this hour? he wondered mentally… then his eyes registered repeated blue flashes from outside, seen dimly through the drapes. Is that the police?
It was the police. He opened the front door to find a uniformed Inspector waiting for him, flanked by a sergeant and a constable. “Mr. Agim Nushi?”
“Yes. What is it?”
“Sir, I must ask you to come with us. Your wife also.”
“My wife? I – I don’t understand. We’ve done nothing wrong. What is this?”
“Sir, I have orders to bring you to a central location, where you’ll be told more.”
“But you can’t…” Agim’s voice trailed away and his eyes opened wide in surprise as he noticed another police vehicle three doors down. “Tha – That’s Vlad’s house!” he managed to say, pointing. “Are you taking him, too?”
“Sir, you’ll be told more downtown. Please come with us.”
“Can’t I get dressed?”
“Very quickly, please, sir. I can give you only a minute, and the same for your wife.”
As the vehicle drove them away, dressed in the exercise sweatpants and tops they’d been allowed to throw on, Agim stared around. Many of the Brotherhood lived in this neighborhood… and every one of their houses that they passed had a police car or other official vehicle – including military ones – parked outside it. He began to feel the first tremors of fear. What was going on? The Brotherhood had paid a large monthly sum to Patos’ government for over two decades, to guarantee them a place where they could live peacefully and free from worry about arrest or prosecution. Had that now come to an end?
They were driven to an indoor stadium downtown. Agim’s name, and his wife’s, were checked off on a computer terminal at the door, then they were herded unceremoniously down a tunnel into the main arena. Armed guards from the Planetary Self-Defense Force stood around a roped-off area of the grass, into which they were ushered. A few of the Brotherhood were already there. There were no seats or facilities except for a row of portable freshers set up on one side.
An older man approached them, looking confused. “Agim, what is the meaning of this? They dragged me out of bed without so much as a ‘by your leave’! They wouldn’t even let me get dressed!” He was wearing a dressing-gown over pajamas and slippers, looking incongruous against the background of armed officials and empty stadium seats.
“I do not know, Ferdan. My wife and I were brought here the same way. I shall try to ask someone in authority.”
He turned to one of the armed guards, and demanded to speak to his supervisor. The man would only say, “Sir, I’m not allowed to leave my post. When everyone’s assembled, somebody will be along to talk to you.”
Within two hours, almost two thousand people milled around in the roped-off area. Complaints and angry protests began to get louder and louder. At last there came a click, and the hum of loudspeakers. A man Agim recognized appeared from the tunnel, and was handed a microphone. He cleared his throat.
“You have been brought here because of a change in your status. You will be given more information at your destination. Cutters will be landing over there, to take you aboard and fly you to another place. Obey the orders of your guards, and do not argue. Resistance will not be tolerated, and will be dealt with severely.”
He handed the microphone to a guard, and made as if to turn away. Agim yelled at the top of his voice, “Minister! Minister Gaspar!”
The man hesitated, then came over to him where he stood pressed against the rope. A guard tried to push him back, but the minister raised his hand. “What is it, Agim?”
“Minister, what is the meaning of this? We have paid you every month for many years! Why are we being treated like criminals, or prisoners? What have we done to deserve this?”
The minister hesitated. “Agim… you paid us, yes, but you paid in gold. There are those who pay in… harder coin. They do not bribe; they demand. They do not compromise; they dictate. They do not persuade; they threaten. They also are not afraid to demonstrate, hideously, that their threats are not empty words, but real. Their actions have spoken louder than your gold.”
“I… I do not understand!”
“You will, soon. I am sorry, Agim. This is goodbye.”
The minister did not offer to shake hands. He simply turned around and walked away. Agim called after him, but he did not so much as acknowledge hearing him. He walked back into the tunnel and disappeared.
Agim turned to his wife, his face bewildered, but the stuttering rumble of reaction thrusters drew nearer, strangling his words in his throat. He watched, open-mouthed, as a cutter settled onto the grass on the far side of the field. He thought to himself, Those thrusters will burn the grass to a crisp, and sear the soil underneath. It will take months to get this field back into playable condition. If they are willing to do so much damage to the most-used stadium in town… this must be really serious!
An officer began to bark orders over a megaphone. “Sixty people, get aboard that cutter and strap in! Guards, move them along, smartly now! The rest of you, wait for
the next cutter! Come on, damn you! Move!”
It took almost four hours to put everyone aboard cutters. Agim could not help noticing that very few bore the insignia of the planet’s security forces. Many were unmarked, showing signs of considerable wear and tear. They were of different models, sizes and colors, which made it easier for him to realize that none of them came back for more passengers. He had not known there were that many cutters on Patos. That, in turn, argued that many of them had been brought in from off-planet, to speed things up… but from where? Why? Who had sent them?
Being at the far side of the gathered Brotherhood members from where the boarding parties were assembled, Agim and his wife found themselves among the last group to be loaded. Once they were strapped in, two armed guards went forward to sit beside the pilot, facing aft, and two more occupied jump seats by the rear ramp as it closed. They aimed their guns casually in the direction of the seated passengers.
The pilot announced, “The journey will take approximately two hours. We are going up to orbit, where you will be transferred to a spaceship.”
A hubbub of shouts, protests, and demands for explanations erupted. He ignored them as he shoved the throttle forward. With a roar from the reaction thrusters, the cutter rose into the air, turned, and began to climb steeply.
Agim sat rigid, stunned. Going to orbit? Boarding a spaceship? This was… this was impossible!
Two hours later, he found that it was all too real. The passengers were shoved ungently out of the cutter, through an airlock, across a freighter’s docking bay foyer into its main passage, and up toward the bow. About midway along the ship, more armed guards ushered them through another airlock into what appeared to be a very large personnel pod – but it was unlike any such pod Agim had ever seen. Instead of cabins, beds, furniture and other amenities, it offered only serried ranks of cheaply manufactured plasfiber benches, arranged in rows, facing a display screen mounted on the far wall. A row of fresher stalls were arrayed to one side, lashed to the bulkhead – but they were all portable units, not plumbed into the ship’s sanitary systems. Alongside them were water dispensers, again using their own tanks, not the ship’s water supply. Agim frowned. He’d never seen or heard of anything like that aboard spaceships.
