"Wasn't that a pretty common Terran name too?" Jenyn queried.
"True. But look at number twenty-eight. It has an association with Terminus.
Jenyn followed the link and read the reference. It was to an indexed catalogue of
names that listed a Herbert Gorman as a New Washington journalist. Several entries related to him. The one Elundi had highlighted described him as having written some articles on the mysterious disappearances of a number of scientists, senior administrators, and other key figures."
"This one, about the missing people?" Jenyn checked.
"Yes." Elundi leaned across the table separating them and passed over a hardcopy of a file from one of the big translation faculties on Venus that included a piece by Gorman restored and scanned from a Terran periodical called Insider. Jenyn read through it quickly. The official story was that the names Gorman had drawn attention to had been commandeered for secret work relating to the war that was threatening—other sources said impending. Gorman wasn't convinced by the explanation. He didn't see how many of the skills and background represented were relevant to such ends. Power and influence seemed to him to be a more significant common factor.
"I'm still not seeing the connection," Jenyn said.
"Here." Elundi handed him a further sheet that he had been holding. It was a letter from Gorman to somebody called Kathryn—the translator had added parenthetically "Barnes"—asking her if she knew anything about a code word Terminus. He thought it might refer to a secret evacuation center somewhere for the privileged. "This isn't out of any published document," Elundi elaborated. "It's just from some private papers found in a different city. So the connection is pretty thin. Just the name, Gorman, and the mention of Terminus." He looked across dubiously. "What do you think."
Jenyn read over the letter again. "Did Gorman ever get an answer, do we know?" he inquired.
"There's no way of telling. The thread ends there. He was killed shortly afterward."
"How?"
"There's one mention of it being an assassination by some Asiatic terrorist organization, but no further details."
Jenyn sighed. Everything that was wrong with the world was due to people being too timid and cautious. He was in a mood for playing the odds today, he decided. "I think it's good," he pronounced. "Yes, send it up to the people on Luna."
"Will do," Elundi said.
By the end of the day, Jenyn was still in a restless, unsettled mood. Here he was, still nurturing plans for building and controlling a political movement that would take over a world. Yet he had been unable to assert his will with one obstinate female who couldn't see what would be best for her in the long run. The power of a strong team working together scaled much faster than the sum of its number. The team would need a solid nucleus to form around. Lorili and he could provide such a nucleus. They had proved it years ago, on Venus. He wasn't going to let this beat him now—the first major target he had set himself since arriving back in Rhombus.
He went down the corridor to an empty office, closed the door, and called her number in the Bio Sciences complex. She didn't look pleased when she answered.
"Yes, look, I know," he told her before she could say anything. "I'm sorry that went the way it did, too, okay? We both lost it a bit. I'm not saying it was all you. I'll meet you half way over the bridge. How's that?"
"What do you want?" Lorili asked tightly.
"Just to talk. I just want you to hear me out. We could still do such a lot together. Out here . . . its a huge opportunity that I think maybe you don't fully understand. I just don't want to see it thrown away, that's all. I know I made mistakes before, but all that's changed now. I've got great plans that I want you to hear about. We could still go places when we get back home. Big places, big time."
"I think it's you who doesn't fully understand, Jenyn," she said. "I've already told you all I have to say. I have plans of my own now, and my own life. And right at this moment, I have my work to do."
"I just want to talk, that's all."
"I don't think that would be a good idea."
"An hour. It doesn't have to be anywhere private, if that makes you uncomfortable. I could meet you somewhere in town."
"Please stop bothering me."
For a moment Jenyn felt an impulse to lash out about the man he had watched her seeing off at the launch port, but he held it in check. "Look, Lorili, you know me," he said. "I don't quit. If you're really serious about ending this, the only way will be to hear me out."
"It's already ended."
"Not on my terms, it hasn't."
"Still laying down the conditions. You just have to be in control, don't you? Oh boy, yes, you've really changed."
"I could make you one of the best-known names on Venus one day."
"You could make. Is that all you think people are? Thing to be put together and used and thrown away."
"You know what I mean. . . ."
"Goodbye, Jenyn."
He was still in a sour mood when he came back into the office. Elundi was backing up files and tidying papers in preparation for going home. "You were right on with that piece about Gorman," he greeted. "I got a reply straight back. It was just what they're looking for. They asked us to look out for anything more on the survival center angle."
Jenyn nodded but his mind was elsewhere. "Got any plans in particular for tonight?" he asked?
"Not really. I was thinking about dropping by a couple of friends who are into Terran chess, but it's no huge thing? Why?"
"I feel like hitting a couple of bars down in the Center. Could use some company. Interested?"
Elundi rocked his head first to one side, then the other. "Sure, why not?" he said finally. "In fact, the more I think about it, the better it sounds." He shut down the system, stood up, and took his jacket from a hook behind the door. Jenyn retrieved his own coat from his side of the table.
"Ever try it?" Elundi asked as they came out into the corridor.
"What?"
"Terran chess."
"Can't say I did. Never had the time."
"One of the kinds of games I like. You can learn the rules in ten minutes. But it'll take the rest of your life to learn how to use them. You know . . . the opposite of these games where they spend all their time looking up more rules and tables than there are in the Terran translation libraries."
"I think there are better things to do in life," Jenyn said.
"That's a shame," Elundi told him. "The Terrans called it the Game of Kings. Apparently, it was devised as a stylized form of warfare in miniature. I would have thought you'd have loved it."
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The Magic Carpet bar-restaurant in Rhombus's Central District took its name from an old Terran fairytale relating to the region. It was reasonably busy that evening. The dining area at the back was doing a brisk trade with its mixed menu of traditional Venusian food and a choice of Terran dishes based on foods from different climate zones. The dance floor to one side of the bar was starting to warm up with couples from the younger set working through the latest crazes with the added dash and daring that comes with being a long way from home. Alcohol was an accepted relaxant on Venus, along with other stimulants comparable to ones which for reasons the psychologists had never quite been able to explain, had driven the Terran authorities into fits of repressive hysteria. The general rule on Venus was that what a person did with their own body in their own time was their business, so long as the effects didn't spill over the line of harming or endangering anybody else. Maybe the difference had something to do with the Venusian reliance on internally assimilated disciplines to curb excesses of behavior, rather then having to resort to external means. It was unusual for them to take things to the kind of extremes that seemed to have caused social problems among Terrans. Human nature being what it was, and nothing in the real world being perfect, infringements of custom nevertheless did occur, of course. An assortment of uniformed national organizations known as provosts existed to ste
p in on such occasions as circumstances required, but their role was essentially one of passive response to transgressions of a relatively few limits that few questioned. There was nothing resembling the attempts at thought control and forcible imposition of others' creeds and personal tastes that seemed to have been practiced by most of the Terran "police" forces—the term "force" said a lot in itself. Being a diverse social organization in its own right as well as a scientific and exploration endeavor, the Earth mission also operated a modest-scale Office of Provosts, headquartered in Rhombus.
The company in the bar area was the usual evening mix of workers from the ISA labs and the town unwinding with one or two before going home; early stalwarts set to make a night of it; and couples and groups meeting and planning what to do from here. Although locales on Earth offered virtually unlimited space for expansion compared to the restricted niches typically occupied by Venusian towns, Rhombus's growth had reflected the pattern and ways that were familiar: functional; ugly; and crowding lots of variety and activity into a small space. That was a part if its legacy from being one of the first bases. Some of the newer habitats in places like Europe, the Americas, and Asia were starting to spread out more and find time for experimenting with airiness and aesthetics in the ways that Terran environments seemed to call for.
Jenyn and Elundi found themselves a table below stairs leading up to a function room used for meetings, private parties, musical performances, and the like. As Elundi has half guessed would be the case, it didn't take Jenyn long to get into politics. He had sensed that Jenyn was in a belligerent mood ever since they left the office. But he was enjoying the atmosphere and decided he could live with it.
"Appealing to decency and reason will never bring about any significant change," Jenyn said. "Nobody who has power ever gives it up voluntarily. The Terrans knew that.
They have to be made to. In the end it comes down to force. Don't you agree?"
Elundi tried to evade being pinned down. "Oh, I don't know if you can make general rules about things like that. Depends on the circumstances."
Jenyn held his glass up in front of him and shook his head from side to side. "Not good enough, Elundi. You have to make a commitment. Are you with what I'm saying, or against it? It has to be one or the other."
Elundi sighed but forced a grin. "Well, I'm not so sure that all that force solved very much for the Terrans. There were still flagrant injustices on Earth. A lot of people were robbed and exploited by force. Maybe it was necessary there. But I can't see that it applies so much to Venus. Most people seem happy enough with what we've worked out in our own messy way."
"Pah!" Jenyn made a contemptuous gesture. "Give them a shirt on their back, a bowl of soup for the day, and a mattress for the night, and they'd be happy. A pig in a pen full of mud is happy. Don't you think that a life's work should be worth more than that? They're happy because they've been conditioned not to see it; to docility. There are thousands out there who deserve better than they're getting, and they don't even know it because we rely on this touching faith that individual judgments and freedom of choice will somehow magically produce better answers. Abilities that should be positively acknowledged and rewarded get shut out."
Elundi. didn't want this to turn into an argument, but he couldn't let it pass. "I'm sure you're right there," he said. "But it doesn't follow that force is the only way. Look, I'm not trying to tell you how you should think. But you know . . . it might pay to take a look at the way Gaster Lornod is approaching those same issues."
"Lornod! All talk. . . ."
"But people are listening to him, Jenyn. And he makes some valid points. There are too many people hiding behind collective rulings and putting out decisions made by nameless committees. He's right when he says projects should be headed by an individual who will stand up and take the responsibility. They can use all the expert advice they want, sure, but at the end of the day somebody has to be prepared to say, I decided. . . . You've got the answer to half our institutional problems right there. There's no need to start shooting people. All it will do is create people who want to shoot you back." Elundi saw the dark look coming onto Jenyn's eyes. Just as he was telling himself he'd gone too far, and was searching for a tactic to back out gracefully, a voice called out from nearby and rescued him.
"Jenyn! You're back!" They turned their heads.
A tall, well-built girl had emerged from among the gaggle of figures along the edge of the dance floor and was coming over to the table. She had yellow-orange hair styled in wavelets and was wearing a loose sleeveless top with a short, black, braided leather skirt. Elundi would have described her appearance as "formidable," though with nose and chin perhaps a touch on the prominent side. Another girl was with her, shorter and petite, with long dark hair tied in a tail behind her back, and less ostentatiously dressed in a light sweater and casual pants.
"Tyarla. Well, hey." Jenyn smiled; but just at that moment, Elundi got the feeling he would have preferred to continue talking politics.
She stooped, put her arms around Jenyn's neck, and kissed him, making an exhibition of it. "I had no idea! I thought you were still in the Americas. How wonderful! How long have you been back in Rhombus?"
"Not long. I'm still waiting for a permanent place." Jenyn detached himself sufficiently to gesture. "This is Elundi, who works with me. Elundi, these are two old friends from a while back. Tyarla. . . . And this is Derlen."
Oh, so Jenyn knew both of them. From the way Tyarla had monopolized him, Elundi wouldn't have guessed it. "Hello," he said.
"Hi, Elundi," Tyarla gushed. For a moment, he thought she was going to subject him to the same treatment as Jenyn but she held it to a smile that merely invited him to admire her. Derlen just smiled and nodded. He got the impression that Tyarla liked making other girls jealous. She seemed to be succeeding.
Tyarla did accounting for the base administration at Rhombus, and was good at it—because she told them so. But her talent was undervalued. She also painted pictures of Terran landscapes, designed her own interior decor, and danced "correctly." Derlen was a hairdresser and dermatician. They were both from Korbisan, like Jenyn. It soon became apparent that Tyarla was also and ardent Progressive, which perhaps explained a lot.
"Is that when you two met?" Elundi asked Tyarla, nodding toward Jenyn. "When he was here in Rhombus before?"
"Actually, it was back on Venus," she said. Jenyn gave her a puzzled look. She sipped hastily from her glass—Jenyn had bought them all a round. "Well, we got to know each other in Rhombus, didn't we, darling?" Jenyn made as if he hadn't heard. "Venus was where I first saw him. . . . But he wouldn't have known about me then. I was just one of the many distant admirers, slaving to play my part in the campaign. He was the big name, you see. Posters with his face on; top table at all the dinners. And very charming and splendid in formal attire, if I may say so." She looked at Jenyn for acknowledgment. He smiled obligingly. Tyarla emitted an exaggerated sigh. "But of course he didn't notice any of us poor phone-canvassing and envelope-stuffing peons in those days. He had this black-haired siren clinging to his arm all the time." She turned her head toward Jenyn. For an instant her voice took on a tone of forced nonchalance. "Is she still around, Jenyn?"
"That all ended back on Venus," he replied.
"Oh." The remark was throwaway but the eyes betrayed something deeper.
Elundi figured that the person she was referring to had to be the biochemist that Jenyn had been telling him odd details about. If that were the case, then it didn't sound exactly all that ended from his latest comments—not if Jenyn had any say in things, anyway.
"How about you?" he said to Derlen to steer them off that particular tack and bring her more into the conversation. "Are you an old-time Progressive from Venus too?"
"No. I'm just finding out about it from Tyarla. It sounds interesting." Derlen looked away suddenly, cocked her head, and began swaying. "This is one of my favorites." She meant the song that had just come on. "Do you lik
e to dance?" she asked, looking back at Elundi.
"Maybe. . . . In a minute?"
"Sure."
"What brought you out to Earth?" he asked.
"Oh, you know how it is. Good money, something different, a chance to get away from boring everything. I guess we're mostly all going to settle down to it anyway, sometime. So see what you can, while you can, eh?"
"You like it here?"
"Sure, why not?"
"Is she your regular friend, then—Tyarla?"
"Sort of, I suppose." Derlen glanced aside. Tyarla had moved her chair closer to Jenyn and had her hand draped on his shoulder, teasing the side of his neck with a fingertip. They were talking in lowered voices." Derlen leaned closer. "Sometimes she can be a bit . . ." She left the sentence unfinished and motioned with her eyes. It seemed they were on their own as far as further conversation went. "But when you're out at somewhere like this, you make the best of whatever friends you get. Know what I mean?"
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