“Do you not realize,” began Parquit, “that the monster deliberately carried out a complex program of deception? That it waited until it felt ready to break free?” The Commander made a sharp, angry gesture. “Is this the work of a potentially docile creature? I think not.”
“Mebbee not. But the idea of controlling a thing as powerful as this has a heap of appeal. Even if the association was set up on an equal basis, say.”
“An arrangement at best worse than uncertain,” said Riidi in clipped tones. “Besides, the thing is not, as the Commander states, apparently inclined to friendly discourse. And we have no evidence of this unique invulnerability you speak of beyond the original records of the first expedition.”
“But it is!” the drugger protested. “Ask your own people. You should’ve seen it, with lasers and torpedoes and all bouncing right off!”
“Yet we have no permanent confirmation,” said Riidi, seeming to waver slightly. “I cannot risk recommending a single nye without more than verbal proof to present to my superiors. Not even that of my own subordinate.” He looked pointedly at Parquit.
“Look, with half a chance I’d take it myself,” said Rose. “Some day, but not today. But there is concrete proof. There was a special recorder going the whole time. I saw it activated and it never stopped until the thing broke in.”
“You are observant,” conceded Parquit. “Indeed, I set it myself. Yet it was smashed in the general destruction, I fear.”
“You’re crazy! It’s back in the shelter, right where you left it. A big dumb-bell-shaped affair.”
“You must be mistaken,” said Parquit. “Yet your description is accurate enough.”
“You must be blind. It’s setting there still, I’ll bet.”
“Could you find it?” asked Riidi. “The Commander seems to believe it does not still exist.”
“Sure I can get it.”
“Do so, then, and I will see you receive proper recompense. The records themselves will be invaluable. Yet we cannot remain here much longer. You have,” he glanced at a chronometer, “four time-parts.” The Baron turned to face Parquit. “If the human is right, you will suffer for it.”
“Baron, I . . .”
“We’ve got a bargain, then,” said Rose. “I’ll be back in two.” He whirled and headed back into the ruins.
Parquit waited til the human was out of sight, then turned back to the fleet commander. “My thanks, Baron.”
“Thanks are accepted, if not necessary. Not where the subject is mere vermin control. Your suggestion worked well. He is blinded by greed and thoughts of power.”
“You had him thinking too fast to be reflective,” said Parquit. “As to your own instructions, shall we return to the ship?”
“If all your people are boarded by now, as planned.”
“Yes. I regret the need of treating such as that with such elaborate planning. Yet the drug he threatened us with requires the most delicate handling. Once released, we would have had no second chance. I am relieved to have it out of my sight.”
“I understand,” the Baron said. He turned and led the way back towards the shuttle, Parquit keeping pace at one side. “And now we come back to the problem itself. And the simple question of a possible interstellar conflict neither party would wish.”
“I would suggest following the official conversation with the Governor with a private one involving the local military leader. He is sufficiently prosaic, enough to countenance the bombardment if convinced of its need.”
“I wish it so,” replied Riidi. “If this creature gains in power as rapidly as you imply, it should be destroyed as soon as possible. If it can be arranged, such action must be taken with the approval and agreement of the vermin authorities. If such is not forthcoming . . . well, the red sand blows where it will, Commander, where it will.”
Rose heard the muffled growl of the AAnn shuttle when its engines caught. He turned and ran without thinking. After covering a few meters, he slowed and stopped. Such exertion was not good for a man of his age. Nor practical. So he watched quietly as the AAnn vessel made a perfect lift-off and rose on a pillar of yellow-red waxen fire. It disappeared into the comforting clouds.
He permitted himself a few choice cuss words. Actually, he was more unhappy at being outfoxed than being left behind. That lizard had set him up perfect and he, Rose, had been picked off clean and clear.
He brightened abruptly. If what the snake had said was true, then he wasn’t completely marooned here. There should be some sleek Enclave hoverafts and maybe a foil-skipper or two tied up in the ruined harbor. The ones that those scattered diplomatic personnel had returned on. If just one held a fair amount of fuel, it wouldn’t be impossible for him to make it back to the capital.
Once there—well, the same trick worked on different folks. The death he toted was very democratic. And there was another possibility, interesting in light of his prospects for the future. If the AAnn chanced across him again he’d be incinerated without thought—if he were lucky. With a complete record of his drug-running and other illegal activities, the humanx were unlikely to greet him with rosewater and lemonbeef. Nor would his colleagues in the underworld consider him a safe risk anymore. Even his friends would consider him too hot to help.
There remained that other choice. He’d only flippantly meant what he’d said about attempting a single-mind contact with the monster. Given his other chances, the idea took on a certain reckless appeal. Perhaps it had bolted off in a sudden suit. Maybe it would be amenable to some form of control or direction. Or if it were as intelligent as it seemed, an alliance? Rose spun thoughts inside-out, the reverse of small spiders. Such power! Ain’t it worth a try for such a prize? Always do the unexpected, old man! You’re running out of alternatives. The law of averages is ready to prosecute. Take the sun-risk, side-pockets, take it!
You’re gonna die soon anyway. And there are plenty ready to give you a hand—down. Bootstraps, old man, bootstraps!
He realized the decision wasn’t entirely sane. But it was made. So the creature was lying offshore the capital? That would take care of the usual commerce patrols. He would go there.
Perhaps all it took to make comprehensible contact with an evil-minded being was another evil-minded being.
He began walking towards the harbor. The laugh that bubbled up out of him was a little too high and went on a little too long.
There were a few standard hoverafts—and the big cargo waveskimmer. Deity knew what the AAnn, who hated water-contact, did with an open-decked craft. But it would take a beam or shell better than the lower lying, thinner-hulled rafts. And its tank was three-quarters full. It was a locally built craft and not an imported AAnn device, so the controls were familiar. The foredeck had been built up even higher to keep out any hint of spray. Even so, it would get cold up there.
The thing was built for long jaunts. He’d have a margin of safety in the tanks that a raft couldn’t afford. No point in making it to the city and stopping dead in the water. He’d like the option of further travel. It would be fast enough.
The Vom and the Guardian fought.
On certain levels molecules were badly battered. There was a change due and both sensed it. The Vom could not tell how or when, but it was still jubilant over the arrival of the AAnn fleet. For this was one way it had traveled between worlds, on the ships and backs and minds of other races, chained to the Vom-self. Chained.
Kitten piloted the hoveraft over a mild sea. Whitecaps sparkled like citrine in the early morning sun. The mist was burning upwards and it would be clear and bright soon.
If he weren’t involved in an impossible series of events culminating in an absurd search, Mal might have enjoyed the sight. He wasn’t hungry, nor tired, for the first time in some while. He longed wishfully for the routine and peace of a normal trading cruise, light-years from everything. He was just about fed up.
“Look, Kitten. I’ve been dragged through this once before. Government secrecy or no, damm
it, this time I’d like to know what I’m getting into before it up and smacks me in the chops.”
“Okay, we’re looking for . . . you remember our late friend Rose?”
“I’m afraid so. What about him?”
“I never saw him without that case of bloodhype on the AAnns’ island. He never put it down or let, go of it for a second. I’d guess he slept chained to it.” She was staring straight ahead, speaking softly. “I think it’s safe to assume it’ll still be with him.”
“Sure . . . wherever the body is. You should pardon the sentiment, ‘so what?’ Are you so concerned about collecting evidence for a posthumous prosecution? If the case is still intact and unbroken, it’ll stay put. The government can recover it anytime,” he concluded.
“Don’t you remember what Peot said?” she continued. “About the monster not being affected by energy weapons? What about biological ones?”
“You’re kidding. The thing is utterly alien. And too big.”
“As far as we know, bloodhype’s nearly a universal drug. And as far as the thing’s size is concerned, you know what a milligram of that powder can do. What about a few kilos? According to the reports, the monster ingests its food and expels practically nothing in the way of waste products. It’s a super-efficient metabolic factory . . . Hitting or shooting the creature with the powder could have several effects. Open, it might be absorbed immediately. That would be ideal, of course, since the powder would go into the thing’s digestive system rapidly. Or the powder might be ingested first, without the case.”
“Or,” interrupted Mal, “the monster might ignore it entirely. In that case the effort wouldn’t be just useless, it’d be suicidal, because the thing’s sure to notice the shooters. And if the powder were released at the wrong time, we’d be likely to get a pretty good whiff ourselves.”
“I still think it’s worth a try. Chances are we won’t be able to dig the case out anyway.”
“Agreed. But I’m beginning to see that no one’s going to leave this planet until that thing is destroyed. And I’ve about as much confidence in the peaceforce at Repler City doing that as I do of finding that case.”
“Then why let it upset you?” Kitten smiled.
Mal was staring hard out the glassite port. He moved to a swivel-mounted viewer, stared a moment longer. “I think we’ll have to revise our guess about everyone in the Enclave being killed.”
“Oh? What is it?”
“Unless this viewer is badly scratched, I believe our case, with friend Rose still attached, is coming to meet us. Yes, without doubt.”
“Damn the man!” She actually stomped her foot. “How is it that such people are always the ones who manage to survive?”
“Carrion-eaters grow tough with age, Kitten. Hardly a new revelation. He’ll pass us portside soon.” He cut off and grabbed for a chair as Kitten threw the raft into a screaming turn. Clouds of spray flew meters high as the fans hit the water at an angle, threatening to turn them over.
“We’ll catch him,” she said grimly. “We’re faster than he is. Where does he think he’s heading, anyway? We’ll be in city waters in five minutes. Doesn’t he know he can be shot on sight?”
“He knows where he’s heading. If he’s still got that case of powder with him and if the wind’s right, he could try and blackmail the Governor this time. Once it gets in the air there’s no way to fight the stuff. You couldn’t treat the whole population soon enough any more than you could get them all into pressure suits in time. The city couldn’t take that kind of epidemic. Let me see if I can raise him on ‘cast.”
Mal made a few adjustments on the transceiver. “Waveskimmer, waveskimmer. Hoveraft behind you. We are closing. Please respond, you bastard.” No answer. “Doesn’t the old idiot know the Vom is around here somewhere? There are easier ways of committing suicide.”
No picture, no response. “You’re in a maximum danger area, Rose! Wake up!”
Static; scratchy voice. “I know, Hammurabi.” The onboard computer matched frequencies and the voice cleared. “I’m bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, to use an archaism better suited to your Tolian tagalong. Tain’t dangerous for me! I know what I’m about.”
“Crazy,” Mal whispered to Kitten.
“Not by half, boy! I seem to keep running into you lately. Bad luck for both of us. Klashing Karmas. You alone?”
“Lieutenant Kai-sung is with me.”
“Call me that once more,” she murmured, “and I’ll break your head.”
“Listen, you touchy . . .!”
“My, my, dissension, dissension!” Rose’s tone was mocking. “I am in desperate straits, I see clearly. Why not wise up and try a profitable, predictable life in subtle evasion of accepted convention, Hammurabi?”
“And be secure in my old age, like you? Huh-uh, Rose.”
“Have you got the drug with you?” interrupted Kitten, unable to hold off any longer.
“My life-insurance? You must be joking.”
“We want it,” said Mal. “We want you, too, but I’d be willing to pass over that if you turn the stuff over.”
“I’ve already had one offer pulled back on me. I don’t think I’m ready to try the same again so soon. Let me think on it a mite. I’ve always been a gambler. I’ve still got a few chips left.”
“Convince him! You’re supposed to be the salesman!” Kitten whispered. “We’re getting too close to the city.” The computer indicated the shrinking distance between themselves, and the island of Will’s Landing, on which Repler City had been built.
“I’ve no time to argue with you, Rose. Turn about and hand the drug over and I’ll see . . .”
“No good, Hammurabi. Sorry, lad. If this works out and you change your mind about me, I might give you a job as a taskmaster.”
“Taskmaster?” Mal whispered to Kitten. “He is crazy!”
“See, lad, I know a good bit more about this monster than you think I know. I even know more than you think I know you know. I believe some sort of agreement wherein I supply, oh, locations of certain storehouses, general information, military advice and so forth might work out to mutual benefit. This thing has wants. I don’t know how well it reads minds yet, or when.”
“Listen, old man, you’re asking for a quicker death than any you’d get from your own kind. There’s more at stake here than your life. Or ours. Turn the drug over and forget any insane ideas you’ve got about trying to ally yourself with the alien. You won’t even make a decent-sized snack.”
“You haven’t got another choice,” Kitten added.
“How kind of you to be so solicitous of my health, little bird.” He paused. “Your urgency intrigues me. You want the drug but are willing to let me go. What are you going to do, go into business for yourself?” he sneered.
“We think it might have some effect on the monster,” she pleaded. Mal looked at her approvingly. This was a new act. It had appeal.
Rose only found it amusing. Or perhaps he found everything funny now. He laughed openly.
“You ascribe too much power even to jaster! Now if you were to personally guarantee my safety . . . off-planet transportation . . . immunity from prosecution . . . why, I might, just might, consider it.”
“I . . . I can’t. Not with you. With what you’ve done. I can’t promise that for others.”
“Ha! You see?”
“No, wait, wait!” Her face was taut. “Mal, see if you can raise the Rectory. There might be a channel open. I think the Major would consent to the bargain.”
“You’re really going to try and make a deal with that old scum? After what he had done to you? After what he was going to have done to you?”
“Don’t make this any harder than it is, please!” She looked at him and this time it wasn’t an act, no.
Mal adjusted the transceiver to tune in to any open Rectory frequency. “That’s the first time you ever asked me a favor instead of threatening or blackmailing your way into it.”
“Oh, shut up.”
Expectedly, Orvenalix wasn’t available. Kitten got him available.
“Well, Lieutenant, things are certainly interesting around here.” He twitched his antennae in a motion indicating thranx sarcasm. “How does your garden grow?”
“ ‘Ple astwin nirer, hyl.’ Quite contrary, taking in certain cogent points.” She explained the situation.
“I’ve linked up as you suggested,” came Rose’s voice clearly. The multiple hookup was crude, but would serve. “Tridee also. No tricks, now.”
“You know who I am?” asked Orvenalix.
“My guardian angel? How could I help but know you, Major? You’ve cost me a lot, in the past.”
“Would that it were more. I shall concur with the Lieutenant’s recommendations in all respects.”
“Swear by your hive-mother, the Queen, and your larval corridor.”
“Done,” said Orvenalix, after rattling off a long string of ancient thranx no one could understand. They apparently satisfied Rose, however.
Orvenalix betrayed none of the fury he must have felt. Restraining emotions as strong as that would drive many humans mad. Such emotional control was accepted matter-of-factly among the thranx.
“For all, uh, past discrepancies as well?”
“All that I have jurisdiction over. You’ll have to take your chances on other worlds. I have only so much authority. You’re stretching it now. Turn over the drug.”
There was a long pause during which the only sound from Rose’s end was that of the wind eddying across the pickup.
A sigh. “Oh, well, all right. It was a long-shot idea anyway. I think I was over-rationalizing for a while, there.”
“He’s slowing!” Kitten shouted, switching her gaze from the raft ‘tector to the port.
“You, honestly think that bloodhype will have any effect on that monster?” asked Mal.
She looked past him, at a spot on the far wall. “Maybe not. But I don’t think anything else will either, except maybe what Peot can do. If that fails, you know the alternative. The drug has to be tried.”
Bloodhype Page 23
