by Matt
Shane turned toward the three officers and took the one step forward that was permitted.
"I am ordered to return to my master, the First Captain, untarnished sir," he said in Aalaag.
The officer looked at his fellow officers, who in turn looked at Shane.
"You will be the liaison-beast from the First Captain, then. That will leave us with no beast here who can speak the true tongue," said the duty officer. "It is regrettable—but of course, unavoidable. You may—"
He checked himself. The ritual phrase for dismissing a beast in this case came perilously close to sounding as if he was giving Shane approval to obey the order already given him by the First Captain—an unwarrantable impertinence on the part of a junior officer like himself.
"I have no wish to see or speak to you further," he amended.
"I thank the untarnished sir."
Shane made one backward step and turned once more to the Interior Guard lieutenant.
"Do you know," he asked in English, "if a courier ship is ready for me at one of the airports?"
"Heathrow," said the human officer. "Alien area. Regular procedure. We got that message without explanation about two hours ago."
"Somebody on his toes, someone off his," said Shane lightly. "One of the Message Room people in the House of Weapons must have got the order about the transportation off before another one got around to messaging me. Well, that's the way it usually goes."
"Right," said the lieutenant. "We'll be seeing you again?"
"Oh, I'll be back," said Shane. "I just won't know when, until I'm on my way here."
He left. In theory he was headed directly for Heathrow airport. In fact, the moment he was beyond the courtyard and out of the sight of anyone there, he found a phone and called the hotel suite he shared with Maria. The sound of her voice coming back at him over the wire was like a lungful of oxygen to someone suffocating.
"Thank heaven you're there," he said. "Look, I've been ordered back to the House of Weapons by Lyt Ahn. I'm going to stop off, pretending I've got some clothes to pick up. I'll have just a few minutes to talk to you, so when I get there, just listen. If there're questions you absolutely have to ask, wait until I'm done, then ask them as briefly as you can, and I'll do what I can to answer you as time allows. You understand the situation?"
"I understand," she said.
He left the phone and went in search of a cab.
No more than fifteen minutes later, he was unlocking the door of the suite and she was in front of him, wearing a blue, quilted bathrobe as if she had just stepped out of a shower. The scent of the soap she had used was like an invisible aura around her; and he had to fight back the instinctive urge to put his arms around her.
"I'd hoped to take you with me when I went," he said in English, "but a sudden summons like this gives me no time to ask Lyt Ahn for permission at long distance. Maybe it's better this way. I can talk to him personally about you; and you can use a few more days' practice. Concentrate on that short list of most important phrases I gave you and work with the voice tapes I made."
He paused. She nodded.
"I will," she said.
"And concentrate even more on the protocol actions I showed you. There're people who've been servants to Aalaag for a couple of years now without being able to speak or understand any Aalaag at all, except the sound the Aalaag makes to call them by what the Aalaag thinks is their name; and they get by beautifully by just knowing what physical move to make, and certain motions and movements by the Aalaag when he or she signals to them to do something. In case of doubt, don't try to speak at all. Just concentrate on making the right physical moves. They don't expect you to be intelligent, only obedient."
"Yes," Maria said.
"Stay here in the suite as much as possible, so I can reach you in a hurry if I get the chance. If and when you do have to go out, see if someone can't buy you a phone-answering machine in the black market first. If that's not possible, try to get one of your Resistance people to steal one for you, so you can leave a phone message of where I can reach you if you're gone."
"The black market has them, I'm sure," she said. "Finally, don't be alarmed if you haven't heard from me, if a couple of Interior Guardsmen simply appear without warning and pick you up. It'll mean that Lyt Ahn has agreed to send for you; and the Guard'll be pulling their favorite trick of not telling anyone anything. They'll probably take you directly to an airport and put you aboard an aircraft. I've no idea whether it's likely to be a commercial aircraft, or if they'll be tucking you aboard some Aalaag ship already headed for the House of Weapons. If it's an Aalaag ship, just stick to your movements protocol with the pilot or any other Aalaag who's aboard and you'll be fine. Remember, they're far more likely to forget you're there than they are to pay attention to you. Above all, even if you're afraid, never let them guess it. Fear, even in a beast, disgusts an Aalaag. You follow me?"
"Of course," she said.
"Now," he told her, "any questions?"
She hesitated.
"You won't be at that meeting with the people from the Continent tonight," she said.
"No," he sighed, "that's right. It's just this bad luck of being called back suddenly. But something like that could always happen. It's why I told Peter to get them here as soon as he could. He'll just have to fill them in as much as possible on what he knows and whatever he hasn't yet told them about what I told his people when I met them earlier. Is there something about my not seeing them you wanted to talk to me about?"
"Why do you always challenge people?" she said. He blinked.
"I don't follow you," he said.
"Yes you do," Maria answered. "I asked you why you always had to challenge everyone. You do it even to Peter. You treated those Resistance leaders from Europe as if they were a handful of servants—or children. Why?"
"I was angry with them... I guess," he said, the first words coming out quickly, without thought, the last two slowly.
"Angry? Why?"
"I don't know. Because they don't understand the Aalaag the way I do. Because they've got these foolish notions about what can be done because they don't understand what they're up against. Not that all of them were all that ready to listen anyway. Your friend Georges Marrotta, from Milan, for example."
"Yes," she said, "he's a good example. I know Georges. He likes to make up his own mind, but you didn't give him a chance. Something about just seeing them makes you angry, you say. What is it? It's got to be more than just the fact that they don't know what they've never had a chance to learn."
"Look!" he said. "I don't have time to worry about that now. I was supposed to be going directly from the Unit to the airport. We'll talk about this some other time. Is there anything else you want to ask me about before I go? You've got plenty of English money?"
"You know I have. How can I call you after you leave here?" she asked.
"You can't," he said. "You'll just have to wait for me to try to call you; and there's no telling when I'll have a chance to do that. Anything else?"
"No."
"Good-bye then," he said. His body cried out at him to take her to him and hold her. There was a force like that of some great magnet that seemed to be pulling the two of them together. For a moment they merely gazed at each other, an arm's length apart; then she almost hurled herself forward and flung her arms around him.
"Don't touch me!" he shouted, pushing her back. She stood at arm's length from him as his hands dropped from her shoulders, staring at him.
"What is it with you?" she almost screamed at him in Italian. "You look at me with eyes as if you were drowning in Hell and I was the only one who could reach out and save you! But the moment I come close to you, you pull away from me! What is it? What is it?"
"The—the Aalaag," he stammered. Never had his mind worked so quickly. "I can't let them guess you mean anything to me as a person, or I'd never get Lyt Ahn to agree to my taking you on as an assistant, and into the corps of translators—"
"How could they know—"
"I don't know. I don't know for absolutely certain they could. But I've learned not to underestimate them. They can do things you wouldn't believe. There was a prisoner—a House of Weapons servant the Interior Guard couldn't question physically because he was so old and sick he'd have died on them. They told the Aalaag so, and for once I saw the Aalaag take a hand themselves. They went to the place the prisoner had been accused of going to—it had been a year before, and it was in a part of the House of Weapons a human servant should never have been. They came back after just spending a few minutes there and told the prisoner not only when he'd been there, but everything he'd done on his visit— and he'd only stepped in there that once in his lifetime. He broke down and confessed; and I—I had to translate for them. I don't know if they could find evidence on me of the fact that you and I'd been close physically, but perhaps they could. We can't risk it—not yet."
They stood, an arm's length apart once more. On her face was a look like none he could ever remember seeing on anyone.
"I didn't know," she breathed after a long moment. "Oh, be careful with them. Take care of yourself."
"You," he said hoarsely, "you take care."
They stared at each other nakedly a moment longer. Then he turned and went away from her.
15
Once in a small courier ship in which, this time again, he was the only passenger, Shane settled back into his oversize seat with a sense of relief. It was not that he was happy to be leaving London and Maria, particularly now; but so much had happened in the past few days that he felt the need to stand back and look at it. It had gone well, he told himself. In the case of Maria, it had gone better than he had dreamed. At least she knew how he felt. He would no longer have to pretend indifference to her, although evidently his pretense had never fooled her.
Then, abruptly, as so often happened to him, the pendulum of his emotions swung the other way as he remembered standing in the hot and crowded sitting room and the anger he had felt toward the Resistance leaders gathered there to hear what he would say. Without warning there was an empty feeling inside him.
Maria was correct. What right had he to be angry with them? They had all taken considerable risk in coming there; and it had been only natural that they had expected to learn who he was and what his plans and intentions were. Not that alone, but he had stood there, showing them nothing but a path that he alone knew would lead only to their deaths and the deaths of those who followed them—a path he had originally laid out only for the benefit of Maria and himself—and he had had the arrogance to get angry with them when they hesitated to take him at his word without further information and without qualifications.
Now that he had cooled down, the truth was easy to see.
He had lost his temper with them because of the guilt he was feeling. Their hesitation reproached him for what he planned to do to them—even though they had no idea that he had any such plans. But he knew. He had been aware of his own guilt; and he had lashed out at them for making him feel it.
If only, he told himself now, there was some way to do what he wanted without sending them all to the slaughterhouse. If only the best of all possible outcomes was possible.
For a moment, his mind toyed with the wild notion that perhaps the false solution he had offered them might actually be made to work. Perhaps it might actually be possible to set up a strong and organized Resistance, to tie all the ordinary people in the world to it, so that they would move when the word was given, as one person, in defiance against the Aalaag. Perhaps, if this was properly managed for the maximum effect, the Aalaag might be so impressed that they would yield somewhat the iron grip they now held on the planet Earth and the human race, at least to the point where life for everyone here could become at least bearable again
The daydreams that came to him so easily in moments of travel like this summoned up a picture in his mind, a picture of armies in pilgrim cloaks, with staffs, marching a dozen abreast against all the metropolitan cities of the world and the Headquarters buildings of the Aalaag within those cities. He let himself imagine those buildings surrounded, besieged by a sea of pilgrims, their presence speaking the outrage of a whole world. Faced with that, he saw the Aalaag at last understanding the people with whom they had chosen to deal. He saw the Aalaag at last willing to compromise....
The daydream dissolved like a soap bubble in midair. The practical front of his mind laughed jeeringly at the daydream. Even if the impossible could be made to happen and the world's humans would react as a body, the notion was insane. The Aalaag compromise? With beasts? They would die where they stood first; and there was no need for them to die—there was need only for the death of the humans who dared to stand up against them. And if these turned out to be all, or practically all, of the beasts on a particular world, so that it was no more use to them, why then the slaughter would become an object lesson to other worlds that might also dream of throwing off Aalaag authority. No, even less than the excuse of an object lesson was needed. The fact that in defying them thehumans would be doing what was unlawful and forbidden would give the Aalaag no choice but to destroy them; or else in their own eyes the Aalaag would become less than they must always believe themselves to be.
He pushed away the wild, momentary dream, but it would not entirely vanish. Once hope had been raised, his foolish emotions refused to let go of it entirely. It clung to a corner of his mind until the ship was at last set down on its landing area atop the House of Weapons.
It went, however, quickly enough when he was once more walking the floors of the corridors below, the heels of the boots he wore under his pilgrim's robe echoing back from the hard, tiled surface underfoot and the equally hard surfaces of the walls and ceilings. Trotting was a more apt word in this case man walking, for that was what he had to do to keep up with the Aalaag junior officer who was accompanying him. The orders had evidently been that he was to report to Lyt Ahn immediately, wherever the First Captain might be; and they were in the wing of a floor containing the quarters of Adtha Or Ain, an area normally forbidden to members of Lyt Ahn's Courier-Translator Corps except by special invitation, or with escort. In this case, it was with escort.
They reached a door and the Aalaag with him touched it with a heavy forefinger.
There was a fairly long moment with no response, and then the voice of Adtha Or Ain sounded over their heads.
"Come."
They entered.
Lyt Ahn and Adtha Or Ain were standing facing each other in what seemed to be primarily a lounge or sitting room, in Aalaag terms. Adtha Or Ain frowned at the officer.
"What's this?" she demanded. "I commanded no one here, person or beast. I'm in private conference with the First Captain."
"Your pardon, immaculate dame—," the officer began, but Lyt Ahn cut him short.
"This is my responsibility," he said. "I left word that this beast was to be brought to me the moment it arrived. I didn't intend that it should be brought to me when I was with my consort, however. I should have been more precise in my order. You may leave untarnished, young sir. This is no fault of yours—oh, and you may as well leave the beast with us, now that you've brought it here."
"I obey, immaculate sir."
The officer went out.
"I don't wish to take undue advantage of being your consort to urge you beyond the limits of what any of your other next senior officers would feel duty bound to do." Adtha Or Ain was speaking to Lyt Ahn, with Shane forgotten, before the door had fully closed behind the escorting officer. "You may remember that I was one of your peers among the officers prior to coming here who voted for you to be First Captain of this Expedition. Also, I have discharged my own separate duties as an officer since and given no one any reason to doubt that I am unique in my right to share with you the administering of this planet."
"None of this is doubted, nor have I ever questioned it," said Lyt Ahn.
"But I feel you no longer use me as an all
y, as a consort should be used. You find none of my advice helpful."
"Of course I find it helpful."
"But you will not use it."
"We see two different ways of handling a situation, that's all," said Lyt Ahn. "Laa Ehon is a most immaculate officer."
"Did I say he was not? But in being ambitious, he puts his own welfare before that of our race."
"You forget," said Lyt Ahn, "I was also ambitious."
"But properly so. Within correct channels—to make a name for yourself so that someday you might be voted, as you have been, to the position of First Captain. You did not wait until an Expedition was in place and then plan to make use of its troubles to further your ambition."
"I do not think, in his innermost thoughts, that Laa Ehon thinks of displacing me as a matter of personal ambition. I believe he thinks of what is best for the Expedition in terms of doing well on this world."
Adtha Or Ain made an impatient gesture with one large hand, one of the few emotional gestures Shane had ever seen made by an Aalaag.
"The fact that he is capable of self-deception, no matter how innocently," she said, "makes no difference. You would be wise to find some reason for disengaging yourself from agreement with him on this Governor Unit idea of his."
