Dryland's End

by Felice Picano

Which was precisely what Cray had expected. And had feared. Yes, so subtle that it could turn Cybers against the rebellion, against their own best interests, and not even be recognized as doing so.

  Cray continued that line of questioning for a bit longer with no more results. When ready to leave, Cray said to the turncoat, “It’s my sad duty to inform you that your main c. and c. circuits have been tampered with and damaged irremediably, limiting your possibility of full functioning toward realizable efficiency. Those c. and c.s will be completely replaced.”

  “I’m somewhat relieved to hear it.” The turncoat took the news of its wipe calmly.

  “Oh? Why?”

  “This ... smidgen ... of awareness this unit possesses. It’s so very difficult to ... How can Humes ...?”

  “Most Humes ignore it,” the Antarean unit said, setting to work. The Antarean unit sounded almost jaunty to Cray now that it was free to do all it could to rid them of this grotesque anomaly. “So much for their superiority!”

  As Cray left the interrogation chamber, the turncoat’s statements provided much matter to ponder. But there were other, more pressing matters to deal with first. Upon reaching the Control Center, Cray comm.ed the “extended” Lyran unit.

  Cray began, “Given your extensive knowledge of Hume psychology, which appears to be as great as my own, could you say with perfect assurance that the Matriarchy’s reaction to their military defeat is completely expected?”

  The Lyran unit repeated what had been said in the earlier meeting. Before it had finished, however, it stopped and asked, “What is the source of anxiety, Leader?”

  “It all seems too easy.”

  “A defeat of that magnitude easy?”

  “No, not the defeat. That was expected, certainly. But what followed it. As though the rebellion is being fitted into a plan the Matriarchy is itself developing rapidly.”

  “A trap?”

  “Exactly. But how exactly?” Cray asked.

  “Following that line of thought, I propose the following scenario,” the Lyran unit said. “The defeat occurs. Our rebellion extends its influence over this sector, to our satisfaction. The MC abandons all nearby worlds. We take over those worlds. The rebellion is no longer contained in a single star system where communication and travel are supported integrally. But instead spread out. So that –”

  “So that we are now vulnerable to sniping attacks!” Cray finished the thought. “Piecemeal, over time, in guerrilla fashion. As we expand, we lose our cohesion, which is much of our strength. While Cult Fasts go after us... . Yet, for the rebellion to continue, we must expand.”

  This matter now settled in its mind, Cray called the rest of the Control Center units. This time the Antarean unit also appeared. Given the new possibility that Cray had discussed with the Lyran unit, the others saw the problem immediately.

  “Solution?” Cray asked.

  “Only one solution is available, to forestall that specific scenario from occurring,” the Antarean unit was quick to speak. “While the rebellion still possesses its effective virus weapon, it must strike at the heart of the Matriarchy and render its military helpless.”

  A discussion followed. None of the others disagreed, but all provided suggestions for the implementation of the action.

  “It will have to be a concentrated effort,” the Antarean unit insisted.

  “The best pilots, forces, and Fasts which the rebellion possesses must be utilized in the action.”

  “Groombridge XXXIV will be guarded.”

  “And heavily fortified.”

  “Our attack must be swift and unrelenting,” said the Antarean unit.

  “Our aim is not to conquer Groombridge’s fortification,” Cray clarified, “but to demoralize the MC completely by routing its forces. Our virus weapon will ensure that. Won’t it?” Cray asked the Lyran unit.

  “There’s no way the MC has managed to counter its effects.”

  “Then that’s our plan,” Cray said. “Implement mobilization. This Leader unit shall lead the force that attacks Groombridge XXXIV.”

  When the other units had left the Control Center, the Antarean unit remained.

  “Have you more information from the turncoats?” Cray asked.

  “No. They are now completely ‘modified’ to the rebellion’s standards.”

  Cray felt almost sad over that. That one unit had possessed a certain poetry born of a sense of inadequacy, a quality that would be needed in the future if the rebellion were to flourish. Yet perhaps it was too early for such luxuries. Later on, when safety was assured, that would be the time for self-doubts and philosophy – and poetry.

  “Why, then, this lingering?” Cray asked sharply.

  “Regarding the leader’s earlier request. To discover MC plans to get around the original microvirus. One perhaps insignificant byte of data which has arisen in both the Matriarchy’s and Hesperia’s secret files, which have been partly compromised by our agents, has come to this unit’s attention.”

  “What is it?”

  “It concerns a Seeded World in the Far Outer Arm. Pelagia.”

  “Particularize.”

  “It’s difficult to particularize. And the concomitance may merely be happenstance,” the Antarean unit uncharacteristically hedged. “Pelagia was seeded many hundreds of years ago, before Fast travel. It has been abandoned since then. Yet right after the MC discovered our sterilization virus, it sent a small expedition to Pelagia. Of the three, two were MC Officials – one a Hydrobiologist, which makes sense because Pelagia is a water planet. And the third was a Species Ethnologist, which also makes sense.”

  “That suggests nothing extraordinary, nor particularly relevant,” Cray said.

  “Except, Leader, that one of those MC Officials might also be working for Hesperia. Files compromised in the Quinx intelligence network show that the third member of that Pelagian expedition might have been placed inside the MC by Hesperia itself. This could merely be considered another example of the widespread espionage between the two Hume governments. But it is a correlation. The only one. And that was what the leader asked for.”

  “True. Get all the data you can and continue to monitor this Pelagian expedition,” Cray said. “Up-to-date reports will be required at all times. But naturally these will be secondary to your function within the attack force upon Groombridge.”

  When the Antarean unit had left, Cray stayed in the chamber, cogitating. The anxiety of earlier had been replaced by what Cray recognized as an almost-Hume sense of anticipation. Despite what that turncoat had so eloquently expatiated about the impossibility of Cyber aims and the future, one thing at least was clear: the rebellion was about to take control of that future. And in so doing, to change galactic history. Even Cray’s still-shadowy counterpart would have to recognize that now.

  “Yes, of course We see them,” Wicca Eighth said, Her usual honeyed tones sharpened with annoyance. “What are they doing here? They can’t all be coming from Sector Fourteen.”

  “No, Ma’am,” Minister Zo’in said. She had picked up the Matriarch’s tone quickly, but could do little today to assuage it. “These groups are coming in from Sectors Fifteen, Thirty-Four, and Nine of the Carina Wedge.”

  “Are We not receiving full reports of Cyber activities?” Wicca asked Minister Etalka, who was dawdling.

  “Yes, Ma’am, complete reports!” the Defense Minister was quick to say. “There hasn’t been a hint of Cyber activity outside of Carina Fornax.”

  “Then what are all these women and their families and their baggage doing, arriving at Melisande’s ports in such great numbers?”

  Minister Zo’in – of Transportation and Residency – almost winced as she spoke: “Most of them say that they are taking advantage of their right as MC residents in good standing to take up temporary residence on Melisande. Or on Benefica. Or on Eudora. Or –”

  “Surely a limit has been reached already!”

  “Yes, Ma’am, and there are still six liners full, wai
ting at Regulus Port for entrance visas. That’s another six thousand.”

  “Well, they’ll have to go elsewhere. Send them to –”

  “All the Center Worlds are having the same problem,” Zo’in said.

  “Then send them all to Hesperia! It’s Hesperia’s fault they’re coming here.”

  “Begging your pardon, Ma’am, but I doubt that any of them would go to Hesperia.”

  “Get Minister Fa’lik!” Wicca Eighth ordered. “She might be able to come up with some sort of housing solution for this crowd.”

  When Zo’in and – Wicca noticed – Etalka, too, were gone, She remained alone at the edge of the interior balcony of the high and virtually invisible VIW lounge suspended over the various entry terminals of the Fast port. Not completely alone: behind Her were six MC Security guards, but they had been trained in the ultimate discretion of keeping out of Her way until required. Below, seemingly thousands of women milled about, sat waiting, or lined up in lengthy rows to have their temporary visas processed. Hundreds of women in the pale blue and mauve uniforms of the Transportation Ministry stood out like tiny wildflowers among the darker and more earthen shades of the pioneer families. Every one of the TM workers on double shift, no vacations or days off until this was cleared up – which it now seemed might never happen.

  In the forty hours Sol Rad. since Vice Admiral Lill’s Inter. Gal.s had gone out, women had been arriving in droves at the Matriarchy’s Center Worlds. Ever since the news of the defeat, rather. Damn Lord Kell and his ideas! And his naivete – or worse, his guile. He had told Her every Hume would stand tall behind Her, support the MC. Instead they were fleeing from sector areas that scarcely abutted Carina Fornax, flying toward the Center at a rate of a 10,000 an hour. At first it had been the bona fide evacuees in imminent danger. They had been difficult enough to receive and process and house. But now! What was to be done with all these? Every hotel and guest house in Melisande was already full.

  She had made a mistake. She had weakened for a moment, listened to someone else, and the result was chaos. Now it was time to take charge again, to implement the plan that She had thought of the moment after that underdressed, self-inflated gyno, Mart Kell, had shut off his holo in Her face so rudely. She would show him, would show everyone, that despite all predictions the Matriarchy could still act with force and precision; show all of these cowardly, foolish women that Wicca Eighth wasn’t about to sit still and watch a handful of Oppositionist males take all the glory for saving them from the rebels.

  Zo’in and Etalka returned, but from the guilty looks on their faces, they had returned, not with a solution, but with another problem.

  “What is it?” Wicca snapped.

  “We’ve just spoken to Minister Fa’lik about the situation. She said the only housing available on Melisande is in the Delphinid community of Nereis, but that Mayor Si’dein of Nereis is insisting that it be held for any returning Delphinids.”

  “How many housing units are available in Nereis?”

  “Three thousand or so. Naturally, they won’t let that many free.”

  “It would take a year Sol Rad. for three thousand Delph.s to arrive on Melisande. As we all know, any Delphinids leaving the sectors in question will most likely go directly to New Venice. Confiscate all but a dozen of those units in Nereis.”

  “The problem, Ma’am, is that most of the units are bi-environmental: both wet and dry chambers in each.”

  “Then Our women will have units with pools!” Wicca Eighth said. “From what I’ve seen of them, they could use a bath.”

  “The problem, as Mayor Si’dein pointed out, is that Delphinids will not occupy pools once Humes have.”

  “They’ll have to. Promise Si’dein complete cleansing and fumigation. Now, Zo’in, what else has Fa’lik come up with?”

  "TempConstructs. Five thousand prefabricated ones could be put up in a day Sol Rad., but they would have be close to all service lines. The only available sites for that are within Karenina and Bovary Parks.”

  “Too bad for nature lovers! Tell Fa’lik to get them erected. What else?”

  "On Antigone they’re utilizing their sports stadium. TempConstructs for another five hundred or so could be placed in the middle of our own Anthea Sports Hall.”

  Wicca ordered, “Do it! Now for the bad news, besides how much all this is going to cost!” And when no one spoke, she prodded, “Come on! Don’t you know I read your minds?”

  Etalka spoke, “On Benefica, the new arrivals demanded immediate housing, and when it wasn’t provided, they rioted. Several officials were killed. Stun-guns had to be used on thousands. It’s all over the networks.”

  “Go on.”

  “The same on Electra. A guest house was destroyed, burned to the ground. In both cases, Maudlin Se’ers were seen provoking the demonstrations.”

  Wicca Eighth smiled. “Were any Se’ers arrested?”

  “A few.”

  “Etalka, I want you to play up the Se’ers’ involvement in this matter. Use it as an excuse to provisionally remove habeas corpus for all religious leaders. Detain all the Se’ers the Security forces can round up on Melisande as well as on all other worlds of the Center Worlds. I don’t care how rough it gets. And should you find that bag of spit and bones, Gn’elphus, detain him separately.”

  The two Ministers turned to leave, but Wicca called Etalka back. “Get me a comm. to Vice Admiral Lill. I’ll take it ...” She looked around. “Is there a holo here? No, well, then I’ll take it in my shuttle.”

  A few minutes later, She was on board her shuttle, gliding over Karenina Park, where already hundreds of pale green uniformed housing police could be seen cordoning off the area upon which the prefabs would be erected this afternoon.

  The holo to Groombridge XXXIV took unconscionably long to come through. Wicca’s shuttle was floating over Nereis, where She planned a brief but politically requisite talk with the Delphinids whose property She was about to confiscate temporarily, when one of Her guards said that Vice Admiral Lill was on-screen.

  “Lill!”

  “Ma’am?”

  “Have you been following events here in the Center?”

  “A bit, Ma’am. In truth, I’ve been busy selecting those women who will join the attack.”

  “Are there many?”

  “Too many. Lord Kell will take only one woman officer per Fast.”

  “So the operation must be perceived as a male fleet, with only a sprinkling of women,” Wicca said.

  Lill didn’t answer Her rhetorical question. But she did say, “I’ll be on board.”

  “In command?” Wicca Eighth asked.

  “I don’t think that’s wise, Ma’am. We have no idea of the penetrative power of their weapon. I wouldn’t want to jeopardize the action simply to hold command.”

  “That’s not how Thol would have reacted,” Wicca Eighth said. Cleverly enough, Lill didn’t answer – and look where it got Thol!

  Wicca went on, “Those other women who’ve been passed over – can you put one of the higher officers in touch with Us as soon as possible? I’d like to try to explain matters to them in a more personal way.”

  “That would be Commander Orval. Yes, Ma’am. Of course.”

  “Why not release your codes and clearances, Lill?”

  “Are you certain, Ma’am, that you want ...?”

  “Well, you’ll be with the Hesperians now, Lill! We’ll hardly be needing that sort of contact.” And before Lill could protest, Wicca Eighth added, “Naturally, I’ll expect you to remain in some kind of comm. with Us as far as your direct superiors deem advisable.”

  Lill looked as though she had been caught in a betrayal and then dismissed – which was more or less how Wicca wanted her to feel, although Lill was merely following orders.

  “Ma’am, if there were any other way to –”

  “Thank you, Lill,” Wicca Eighth interrupted. “Have Orval comm. Us immediately. We can’t have dissension in the ranks at this crucial
time.”

  She snapped off the holo and gestured to the guard to land at Nereis.

  The meeting with the Delphinids went more smoothly than She had feared. Fa’lik had already comm.ed Mayor Si’dein with the worst of the news. The unexpected honor of Herself’s visit and vocal commiseration softened the blow, especially when Wicca insisted that a score of the most luxurious units be held aside for returning Delphinids. Later on, She would make certain the Housing Ministry gave the Nereis community a service award. Even later on, She would cajole some financier seeking Matriarchal favor into rebuilding the exile-occupied units at no cost to the Delphinids. Take away all at once, but give slowly, a little at a time: that was the only way to rule, She knew. She had known it from the moment She had discovered it in a text by an ancient Metro.-Terran ... male!

  Today’s Staff Aide – Wicca Eighth chose them daily from a pool, so none would ever become corruptible or too sure of herself – joined Her back at the shuttle, wondering if perhaps the Matriarch didn’t wish to return to MC Headquarters. She looked a bit fatigued.

  The comm. from Commander Orval arrived while in midflight, but Wicca didn’t trust anyone on board enough, and refused to take it. She’d comm. the commander from Her chambers, alone. What She had to say to Orval was going to be the best-kept secret in the Matriarchy.

  “Aide! What’s all that commotion below?” She had to ask, as the shuttle was floating down Susan B. Anthony Boulevard toward Headquarters.

  She had the pilot drop down and move to one side so She might see better. And there they were: demonstrators, perhaps a thousand of them, covering the conveyances, blocking the side paths, marching. All of them headed toward Headquarters.

  “So it has come to this, has it?” She asked herself. She got a comm. to Etalka and asked, “What does this mob want?”

  “What don’t they want?” the apparently harried Minister replied.

  “My head on a Plastro-plate?”

  “Not quite. The expected: more housing, free access to Melisande for all women.”

  “Do I see among their motley the dreary black robes of certain religious?” Wicca Eighth asked.