Is it vital information? Might I invoke some robotic law to force it out of you?"
"I don't believe there's any immediate need for concern, sir. I'll divulge the information as soon as constraints are removed."
"What constraints, Fred?"
"I can't tell you. There is a call for you."
"Yes, I see it."
An image formed in the middle of the room: the official emblem of the Navy Commander. The Navy Commander! It jolted Pan away from everything else that troubled him. The emblem was immediately replaced by a live hologram of a dark Essiin in a black uniform. Pan was barely able to speak coherently with Fred - Had Fred said there was something wrong with him? - and how was he supposed to survive an encounter with the single most powerful person in the Union?
Pan rose from his chair and faced the image of Navy Commander Etrhnk. Etrhnk was as tall and as dark of skin as Pan. Among Essiin his recessive color probably made him an elite - that subset of Essiin society that would carry the logic of cause-and-effect to the extreme, requiring a discipline that completely stifled the expression of emotion. That Etrhnk was of military vocation was rare. That he was Commander of the Navy was unprecedented. Essiin, the most peaceful alien-humans, abhorred the violence implicit in military duty, although, logically, they accepted the need for the Navy.
"Governor Pan," Etrhnk greeted. His tone was not congenial but not dominating. Etrhnk spoke without any clue to his attitude and without any regard to his status. His absolute neutrality did nothing to negate his power and authority; it emphasized it.
As accustomed as he was to speaking to important people, Pan could barely move his lips, while his brain parsed all the extraordinary events and revelations that, for some reason, he felt he needed to hide from this highest authority.
"Admiral Etrhnk," Pan finally uttered. "I don't hold any official title. This is Earth. There is no government, thus no governor."
"Would it benefit you to make the title official?"
"I don't think so, sir." Pan completely missed considering any implications of Etrhnk's query. He only knew he didn't like the idea.
"Titles do require a reduction of freedom," Etrhnk commented, then jumped directly to the reason for his holographic presence. "I believe two Navy officers came to Earth not long ago. Do you know if they did?"
"They're guests of mine, Admiral."
"I would appreciate more information. What kind of guests? Did they abuse you? You seem unsettled."
"They've been very pleasant, sir."
"You can tell me the truth. Navy officers are not usually pleasant nor do they have permission to be on Earth. Demba will be disciplined. There will be no reprisals against you."
"I spoke the truth, admiral." Pan knew he couldn't keep minimizing his responses. He hoped Etrhnk would tolerate him until he could gain better control of his wits.
"How did they become your guests?" Etrhnk's voice was neither impatient nor demanding.
"I detected a transmat feed. I sent a probe to investigate possible theft of Earth biota or artifacts. I saw the Navy officers and I decided to contact them."
"They did not force themselves on you?"
"No. I insisted they be my guests. Captain Horss is touring our enclave with the director of the Earth Mnro Clinic. Admiral Demba is having her portrait painted by Rafael de LaGuardia."
Etrhnk was silent for a moment. "The artist is still alive, then."
"He is."
"Interesting. That he should find Admiral Demba a worthy subject. That he should come out of retirement to paint her. Do you know how this came about?"
"It was my idea, sir. Admiral Demba is a... a fascinating person. I hoped Rafael would want to paint her. I sent her to him. He did want to paint her. Very much."
"How would she be fascinating?" The question was posed without any emphasis that would hint how the Navy Commander felt about the probability of his Chief of Archives being a fascinating person, but the question alone was enough to imply Etrhnk's ample interest.
The question resonated in Pan's mind. Demba was vital to Pan, but he had substituted fascinating for that adjective. Demba would never become vital to Etrhnk but she could become fascinating to him. She would present a mystery that Etrhnk might wish to solve. Maybe it would at least delay whatever consequences she would face.
"Admiral Demba's voice," Pan said, "sounds exactly like that of a singer I knew a long time ago. I upset her trying to tell her about the singer. I'm afraid I was too insistent about the comparison."
"You heard her sing?"
"No, but Rafael did, and he agrees with me. He also remembers the voice of Ruby Reed."
"Demba sang." Etrhnk spoke the words as though tasting them. He paused, probably to collect data from in-body augments. The pause was brief yet dangerous. "You say you knew the singer named Ruby Reed. She died nearly a century ago. You were born later. You couldn't have known Ruby Reed."
He had misspoke, and now Pan was caught in a logic trap. He might modify his story, saying he only knew of her, but the Navy Commander would likely set more traps. This was a pivot point in his life. Pan could no longer see himself as the famous musician who produced the Mother Earth Opera, and who lived a quaint life on the Forbidden Planet. What was he really doing on Earth? He must have been waiting, waiting for Demba to appear, waiting for another terrible episode with Commodore Keshona to take place. As temporary and as fragmentary as his eruptions of visions were, they had made it clear to him that it had been his duty to protect Ruby Reed, and Keshona, and the person she was before that. Now it was his duty to protect Demba. Nothing else mattered! He had to place himself in the line of fire.
"I was not born later," Pan said in restored calm. "I believe I am at least two hundred years old. My name was Harry when I played piano for a blues singer named Ruby Reed. I didn't remember that until I met Fidelity Demba."
Etrhnk remained silent for several moments. Pan knew he was searching databases. His face allowed no hint of the import of his data and his words were calm.
"I wonder why you would have memories you forgot," Etrhnk said.
"As do I," Pan said.
"I invite you to have dinner aboard my ship. I'll call to have you transmatted this evening at local sunset."
The hologram of Admiral Etrhnk evaporated.
Pan sat in stunned silence for several moments. He looked up at Fred.
"You're in deep trouble, Boss," Fred commented.
It was a strange thing for Fred to say but the observation hardly registered in his mind and any investigation of Fred's unusual comment Pan might have made would have been sidetracked by the next thing he heard.
"I concur," Horss said, stepping out from where he had listened to Pan's conversation with Admiral Etrhnk.
"Why didn't you ask to speak to Etrhnk?" Pan asked.
"Nothing to say," Horss replied.
"Why are you and Demba on Earth? Why is Etrhnk here looking for you?"
"She didn't tell you."
"And I didn't tell Etrhnk what I observed in the African Space Elevator," Pan said.
"It's only a matter of time," Horss said. "If he wants to know, you'll tell him."
"And I deserve no explanation?"
"Believe it or not, I used to think Etrhnk was a good guy. A little harsh in his policies but not unlike his predecessors. Never lost his temper. Perfect in his logic. Even-handed in his judgments. And as cold as deep space."
"But?"
"No buts. Demba pushed him. He will push back."
"How did she push him?" Pan asked.
"She requested my transfer to the Freedom. He ignored her. She posted me with a Request for Voluntary Reassignment. It had the effect of forcing my transfer."
"You were discussing this with her in the space elevator?"
"I don't know what we were doing. It was out of control."
"Why did she bring you to Earth, Captain?"
"She doesn't know why. She needed to isolate me. She could have done that anywhere."
"Isolate you? Why?"
Horss took a long moment to reach a decision to reply. "She thought I had a worm."
"Worm? What do you mean?"
"Neural programming filament."
Pan was shocked. That kind of worm! "Why?"
"The Request for Voluntary Reassignment was a breach of etiquette, so to speak. Etrhnk had to take punitive action against Demba. I don't like telling you these things."
"Did you have a worm?"
"I don't know. I don't like what I tried to do to Demba. A worm would be a good excuse. But neither do I want to have a worm in my brain."
"I fear for you, Captain."
"Let me know if empathy works for you," Horss said. "I'll fear for you twice as much. By the way, did you see Samson? Is he well?"
"He seemed well. He was enjoying playing with Rafael's dog. I'm pleased with your concern for the child."
"Mai wanted me to ask about him," Horss said. "Are you sure he's OK?"
"I offered to bring him straight to the Mnro Clinic and he refused," Pan said. "But that doesn't mean he's well. Admiral Demba expressed serious concern for his emotional health. I was surprised he seemed as stable as he was. Are you ready to interview Samson, Captain? Chew the fat with him?"
"I'm waiting to escort Mai to the artist's place."
"Can I trust you? Demba and Mai are extremely important to me."
"Trust no one. It's the Navy Way. You really believe Demba was this singer."
"I'm betting her life on it, Captain. And she was also someone else. If you kill her, you'll never get to know who she really was."
"Why would I care?"
"I think you would."
"What does it matter who she was if she'll never remember?"
"She didn't die in the war," Pan said. "I
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