“I'll come with you."
“Thaddeus?"
“I will, too."
“Fine. Eleazar, Esther, God be with you; we'll see you again.” He watched as the pair rode away down a side street.
When they were out of sight he prodded his own horse forward again, and his two remaining companions followed. After a moment's indecision they headed for the inn where John had stayed before, the Righteous House.
They reached it without difficulty; John dismounted at the front door, intending to ask what rooms were available before leaving the horses in the stable. When he turned to enter, though, a woman was standing in the doorway. He stared.
“Ms. Humble?” he asked.
“Captain John!” Miriam answered, staring back.
She wore a new dress, John noticed-dark green, of an unfamiliar fabric. She appeared confused and uncertain. Otherwise, she looked much as she had when last he saw her.
He studied her expression and could see no trace of malice. “A pleasure to see you again, Ms. Humble,” he said, forcing a smile. “Allow me to present my companions, Thaddeus Blood-of-the-Lamb and David Beloved-of-Jesus."
She nodded polite acknowledgement. “I thought you were living out on the hills somewhere,” she said.
“We were, but circumstances have changed. If you don't mind, Ms. Humble, we're here to find rooms for ourselves."
“Oh,” she said. She stepped aside; John and Thaddeus entered the inn, leaving David to watch the horses. When John and Thaddeus had passed Miriam turned hesitantly to follow them.
She waited and watched silently as they took two rooms and assured the care of the horses; then, as they turned back toward the door, she said, “I want to talk to you, Captain."
He glanced at her, then back at Thaddeus. “Go on out, Thad, and help David with the horses; I'll meet you at the rooms later."
Thaddeus nodded, looking at Miriam curiously, and obeyed. When he had gone John led the way to a quiet corner table, seated them both, and asked, “What is it? Are you still trying to get me killed?"
“No-at least, I don't think so."
“Don't you know?"
“No, I don't-not any more."
“I reckon maybe you don't, at that; I pretty much expected you to find our camp and come out there to bother me, but you never did. When I found out that the Earthers knew where we were I thought you might have told them, but it wasn't you at all, it was one of their ‘sat-alights'. I thought I'd seen the last of you."
“Well, I didn't expect to see you again, either! I thought you were so stubborn that you'd stay out there all alone after your men all deserted you, and freeze to death by Christmas!"
“I may be that stubborn, but I'm not that stupid. Suicide's a sin-besides, he who fights and runs away lives to fight another day, as the saying goes."
She stared at him, momentarily at a loss for words.
“What was it you wanted to talk to me about?” he demanded.
“Oh. I don't know how to explain, exactly. I wanted to tell you… no, ask… no, tell you something. About how I feel about you."
“Tell me, then.” He sat back, expecting her to spout either gleeful anticipation of his impending death at the hands of the Heaveners, or a tearful forgiveness.
“I hated you, so very much-you took my home, killed my father, a dozen of your men raped me. I wanted to see you die, slowly.” She paused, looking up at him across the table.
John was uneasy. This was not the raving he had anticipated. He had rarely heard anyone speak so openly and directly. He tried to answer soothingly without lying or distorting the truth. “That's natural enough,” he said. “The Lord said to love your enemies and forgive the wrongs done you, but it's hard-about the hardest thing there is, I guess. I'm sorry about what my men did to you-it's the custom, in war, but that's hard, too. It was a just war, to bring people to Jesus, but I can't fault you for hating it."
“I hated you, though,” she said. “I blamed it all on you. You had led the invaders; I heard an officer say that it was your idea to use Marshside for a base instead of attacking the Chosen directly and I knew you'd given your men permission to pillage the town."
“It wasn't really my idea-one of the Elders…"
“That doesn't matter,” she interrupted. “Let me finish. I hated you, I thought you were an inhuman monster. When you took that splinter away from me so easily I was sure of it, and when you refused to rape me because the Bible says a man should be chaste I thought it was because you weren't human enough to rape a woman. I thought you were a demon. Maybe not really, actually a demon, but not really a man. You were the Enemy. And my enemy's enemy is my friend, so I believed that the Heaveners were honest and good, come to help Godsworld. You understand?"
John nodded, cautiously.
“Then you told me about that woman, Tuesday-you had a reason to hate the Heaveners, after all. And you'd lost your army; you weren't unbeatable, you'd suffered. I was confused by all that, Captain. I wanted to see how much of what you said was true. So I came back here, and got a job at the inn here-I told them I was the widow of one of your men. And I went to the fortress and talked to people there, and I saw some of the records they have, and what you told me about Tuesday was true; I saw the tape of you and her together."
“What?!” John's outburst was involuntary, the result of astonishment and outrage. “What tape?"
“Oh, they tape everything there, pictures and sound-it's almost like watching through a window. Any time anyone moves, anywhere in the Corporate Headquarters, it's carefully recorded and filed away. The machines do it all. I got to know some of the Earthers pretty well in the past few weeks, and one of them let me watch the tapes of you. I watched it all half a dozen times, from different angles. You were raped, just the way I was-and you took it the same way I did, you wanted revenge. You're just human, like me; you're not a monster."
He stared at her for a long moment, unable to reply.
“I just wanted you to know that I know that now. You're just human, and you've been raped and your family killed-the army was your family, wasn't it?-and your home was destroyed, just the way it happened to me. We're even now; I can forgive you, at least partly. I still won't weep if you get killed, Captain, but I don't need to see it. I wanted to tell you that.” She pushed back her chair and stood up. “That's all."
“Wait a minute!"
“Yes?"
“It was all recorded?"
“Well, not all-you can be glad of one thing.” A vicious smile suddenly lit her face. “Did you know they can even record what comes over an empathy spike? Tuesday didn't do that, though-what you felt is gone forever. Thank God for the small favors, Captain!” She walked away, her hips swinging in saucy derision.
Chapter Seventeen
“And thou, even thyself, shalt discontinue from thine heritage that I gave thee; and I will cause thee to serve thine enemies in the land which thou knowest not: for ye have kindled a fire in mine anger, which shall burn forever."-Jeremiah 17:4
****
After sending a message to Dawes that he needed time to consider her offer, John spent most of the next two days resting and thinking, while his few remaining followers were out in the streets and markets trying unsuccessfully to recruit new men, and making contact with their fellows, now no longer spies for an army but merely a band of saboteurs. It was the morning of the third day when John was certain of his decision; he tracked down Miriam. She worked days as a chambermaid and evenings as a waitress, rarely leaving the inn, so finding her was not difficult.
After a few stiff formalities, John said, “You told me that you knew some of the Earthers pretty well."
She looked at him warily before replying, “Mostly just one, really."
“The one who showed you those tapes."
“Yes."
“What sort of a man is he?"
“How do you mean that?"
“Well, showing you the tapes-that wasn't something he was expected to do
, was it? Did his superiors approve?"
“I don't know; I didn't think about it. Why? What does it matter?"
“I want to talk to an Earther, that's all-a reasonable one, who won't turn down a proposition before he hears it."
“You want to hire a spy?"
“No, not really-just someone who will do one or two things for me, nothing dangerous."
“Kwam? might do something like that, I don't know."
“Kwam??"
“That's his name."
“I don't like these pagan Earther names; they don't mean anything. It makes them hard to remember."
“His name is Kwam? Montez; he says he's from a place called Australia, back on Earth."
“I never heard of it."
“Neither did I,” Miriam admitted. “This proposition you want to make-you're still trying to drive away the Earthers, aren't you?"
“I might be,” John said.
“Are you?"
“Yes,” he admitted.
“That's what I thought-you don't give up easily. I don't know if Kwam? will help you-he's not really dishonest, he's just… well, playful. He is a Heavener, a real Heavener, not a stockholder like Tuesday; he wants them to stay on Godsworld."
“I just want him to listen to my offer. I'm not trying to hurt anybody. I won't ask him to damage anything."
She looked at him carefully. They were in one of the unoccupied rooms, where she had been replacing the bedsheets. “What are you up to?"
“Nothing that will hurt you. Just introduce me to this Kwam?, that's all. I can do you a favor in exchange, or pay you a little, if you like."
“Are you going to ask him to get you something? Steal something?"
John shook his head. “Don't ask me a lot of questions.” She was uncomfortably close to what he had in mind. He had not expected her to figure anything out, or even to try. He hadn't thought her capable of thinking like that.
“Are you planning to buy Earther weapons and meet the Heaveners on even terms?"
That was not exactly what he had had in mind, but he could understand how Miriam might have come up with such an idea. For his own part, he had dismissed the idea a few weeks earlier; open warfare with Earth weapons on both sides would be far too destructive. Half of Godsworld might perish in the crossfire.
“No,” he said. “I don't want to fight the Heaveners openly any more; they can do too much damage."
After another moment's hesitation, Miriam gave in. “All right,” she said, “I'll take you to see Kwam?."
“Good,” John replied. “Where and when can I meet this mysterious person?"
“I'll take you there, right now."
“Now?” John was startled and made no attempt to hide it.
“Yes, now; tell your friends you'll be back later."
“I don't…” he began.
“Come now or forget it, Captain!” she interrupted.
He gave in. “I'm coming,” he said.
After a detour to the market to tell David and Thaddeus, who were currently stationed there, that an urgent errand had come up, John followed as Miriam led the way at a brisk pace directly toward the Corporate Headquarters. She marched in through the open door without hesitation, turned left, and proceeded along one of the door-lined corridors. A right into another corridor, then a left, and she began counting doors. At the fifth she turned and tapped on a panel in the wall beside it.
The door slid aside; she stepped inside, John entering close on her heels.
He froze the moment he was inside. Despite minor rearrangement, he recognized the room; he had been here before.
The door had closed behind him. He was trapped. He reached for Miriam's arm, but before he could grab it an unfamiliar voice called, “Oh, it's you, Miriam! What are you doing here? Who's that with you?"
He turned, as Miriam said, “Hello, Kwam?; this is John Mercy-of-Christ. He wants to talk to you."
John could not locate the voice's origin.
“I'll be right down,” Kwam? said.
Miriam gestured at the cushions heaped on all sides. “We might as well be comfortable.” She sat down, the cushions rising to meet her in an unsettling, almost lascivious manner.
John remained standing. “I know this room,” he said. “This is where Tuesday…"
“Oh, I know that! But Tuesday left weeks ago; she's not even on Godsworld any more. Kwam? says she went on to a planet called Hellenbeck Five; I don't know much about it, but I guess it's a little like Godsworld, with Earthers just recently moving in. There are a lot of worlds out there, not just Earth and Godsworld."
“I know that,” John said, still uneasy.
“Stop worrying! Kwam? will be here in a minute. We picked this room as a meeting place because nobody uses it much-probably nobody uses it at all since the stockholders left. When your men killed that one over in Withered Fig there were three or four stockholders around, but they all left on the next ship-you scared them."
“Well, it's nice to know we accomplished something,” John said sarcastically. “If nobody uses this room, how did Kwam? know we were here?"
“Because,” Miriam said patiently, “the machines keep track of everything, everywhere, and we told the machines that whenever anyone came in here they should tell Kwam?."
“Oh.” Before he could say anything else the door slid open, and Kwam? Montez stepped into the room.
“So you're John Mercy-of-Christ,” he said. “I'm pleased to meet you.” He held out a hand.
John took it as briefly as he politely could.
Kwam? Montez was small for an Earther, about average by Godsworlder standards, a few inches shorter than John's five foot ten and a good many pounds lighter. His hair was black and curly, his skin dusky, and his smile broad and gleaming with big white teeth. “What brings you here?” he asked.
“Miriam told me a few things about you, and I wanted to talk with you about the corporation. Did you know they offered me a job?"
Kwam? nodded politely. “I had heard something about that,” he said.
Miriam did not take John's news so calmly. Although she managed not to interrupt, she was plainly thunderstruck.
“They did. I told them I needed time to think about it. I'd like to talk to you, if you aren't busy."
“Oh, I set my own hours; what did you want to ask?"
“Well-could we go somewhere else? They record everything that happens here, don't they?"
“Yes, of course they do; you'll have to get used to that if you're going to work for us."
“I suppose I will, but right now I'm not used to it. Could we go somewhere else, where I can talk freely?"
“All right; lead the way. Hiring isn't exactly my regular job, but I'm here.” He waved, and the door to the corridor slid open.
John breathed more easily when they were out of the cushioned room, and by the time they had reached his room at the now-familiar inn he was feeling relaxed and sure of himself. “Mr. Mawn-Tess,” he said, “thank you for coming. Sit down.” He indicated the bed; the room had no chairs.
Kwam? sat down.
“Ms. Humble, you don't need to stay,” John added.
Miriam, standing by the door, did not move. After a moment John shrugged. “Suit yourself. Mr. Mawn-Tess, how did the New Bechtel-Rand Corporation wind up here on Godsworld in the first place?"
“We came in starships, like the one next to the headquarters…"
“No, no, that's not what I mean. I mean how is it that Bechtel-Rand came to Godsworld and nobody else? What about the Earth government? Or other corporations? Or religions seeking converts?"
“Oh, I see what you're asking. Bechtel-Rand won the development contract when Godsworld was rediscovered. I'm not sure if the Godsworld job was a bid, a lottery, or rotation, but when they let the contract we got it."
“When who let what contract?"
“When the Colonial Redevelopment Authority gave out the right to develop Godsworld."
“How does that work?
"
“Well, the CRA is in charge of everything concerning the old sleepership colonies, both vol and shangman…"
“What?"
“The CRA-the Colonial Redevelopment Authority-controls everything about the colonies founded by the United Nation, back before FTL was developed…"
“Eftial?"
“Faster-than-light."
“Go on."
“Right. There are a lot of colonies-the United Nation got rid of anyone who made trouble by shipping them off quick-frozen. Some were founded by volunteers, like Godsworld-people who wanted a world of their own-and others were founded by prisoners or just people off the streets who happened to get caught, who didn't want to go. The volunteers are called ‘vol', and the others are called ‘shangman'-I'm not sure where the word came from. Anyway, it doesn't matter which they are, the CRA controls them all."
“All right, I understand that-but then, why is Bechtel-Rand here, instead of the CRA?"
“The CRA doesn't develop planets itself; that's not their job. They're just a branch of the Interstellar Confederacy overgovernment in charge of making sure that everyone plays by the rules. One of those rules is that lost colonies need to be handled carefully and treated with respect; nobody wants to start an interstellar war. So when a colony is found, the way Godsworld was, the CRA assesses the situation and chooses one developer who is allowed to move in slowly and establish contact between the colony and Earth. They're supposed to pick the developer best suited to handle each particular situation, but sometimes nobody can decide which company that is, so they hold a lottery, or if there are one or two companies that would do equally well, whichever one didn't get the job last time gets a turn. I don't know how they decided about Godsworld, but they gave it to Bechtel-Rand."
“Why only one?"
“Because if there were two, they would compete with each other, and that could be dangerous for the colonists. Keeping one corporation in line isn't that hard, but when there are two competing in the same market it's almost impossible, and the CRA doesn't want to try. Besides, why confuse the colonists with two developers, or three? On some worlds the developers are practically gods-and if a tribe thinks one developing corporation is the gods, then the other one must be demons. You can get some nasty little wars that way."
Shining Steel Page 15
