by James White
“Don’t be so pedantic, dammit!” she said angrily. “They’ve uncovered three long-range missiles, and it looks as though they’ve salvaged enough of the ancillary equipment and solid fuel boosters to reconstruct a surface launching facility inside those wooden towers. From what I can see, the missiles are ready to launch. It looks as if we’ve arrived in time to stop a small nuclear war. We’ll have to do something about this. Shall I instruct the hypership to knock it out?”
This was what he had not wanted to hear, Martin thought as he stared silently at the screen. Beth was able to abstract more information from sensor displays than he could, but she had not yet noticed or did not remember the significance of the area of cleared ground in die shadow of the stockade, and the matrix of tiny, evenly spaced white dots covering it.
They were graves, each marked in Keidi fashion with a single white stone, and almost certainly radiation casualties of the salvage operations. There must have been hundreds of them.
“Naturally,” she went on when Martin did not respond, “a prior warning would be sent to evacuate the area. But these people are stupid I There are so few of diem left, this is their only temperate and fertile land mass, so why do they want to start a nuclear war?”
“We won’t do anything,”‘ Martin said firmly, “until after the meeting when we’ll know a lot more about the situation here. Officially we know nothing about that place, and knocking it out would not endear us to the First or…”
“It would endear us to the people he intends using those missiles against,” Beth said dryly. “But how were they able to do it? The big universities and nuclear laboratories have gone. Surely the building of a launching facility requires specialist knowledge.”
Martin sighed and said, “The knowledge was available, from maintenance manuals, test records, drawings. It was the hardware which was withdrawn, not the literature. Probably the First and some of his Undesirable friends helped run the original facility and, with that kind of special knowledge heading the project, it could be done.”
He leaned forward and with his index finger traced the outline of the Keidi burial ground, then added quietly, “The First knows enough to direct operations from a distance. They were probably first and second generation and had no previous experience with radiation, and learned the hard way.”
It was Beth’s turn to be silent. The external mike was picking up the sounds of approaching vehicles and heavy rain.
“This is nasty,” Martin went on, “but right now we need information more than anything else. Instruct the hypership to make a planet-wide radiation scan, to check that none of the other storage facilities have been breached, by earthquakes or anything else. I’ll take a foodpack in case… Quickly, they’re here.”
The First had left his vehicle and was already walking toward the lander as Martin opened the entry port. He was a smaller and thinner version of the doctor, and the speaking horn which he directed at Martin was discolored and heavily wrinkled with what could have been advanced age or disease.
There was a moment’s silence, then the First said, “Plainly your species has physical requirements which differ from ours, so that the hospitality I am offering you will be nonmaterial, and consist only of the satisfaction of our curiosity about each other. The meeting may be a lengthy one, so I thought that you should bring a supply of your food and liquid with you.”
“It was a thought shared,” Martin said, pointing at his foodpack. Not wanting to sound too eager, he went on, “We thank you for the invitation to exchange information, but we feel that for personal and family reasons this may be a bad time for you. Our vessel is small, with limited endurance, and a visit to the mother ship to replenish our power cells is overdue. We can return at a more convenient time, early tomorrow if you wish it.”
The Keidi looked from Martin to Beth, who had just entered the lock, and said, “You show consideration, off-worlders. But now would be the best time, while the memory of our obligation to you is still fresh. And rest assured, your lives, which would not be threatened by any Keidi, will be under the personal protection of the First Father of the Estate.”
“Thank you,” Martin said. “It is nevertheless reassuring to have such a powerful friend.”
“I am deeply obligated to you,” the First said, his focusing muscles twitching. “I am not your friend.”
A few minutes later they were sharing the hard, rear seat of the First’s vehicle, with little to see but rain-soaked pavement and the backs of two Keidi heads.
“I had time to deploy the meteorite shield,” she said, holding up her wrist to show that the translator was switched off. “Anyone going too close to the lander will get a bruised speaking horn. There are tracers on our…”
“Better switch on,” Martin said dryly, “or they’ll think we’re talking about them behind their backs.”
Beth gave a dutiful laugh and did so, then leaned forward to say, “As a female, I am naturally concerned about the condition of the First’s granddaughter. Is there any news?”
The First turned around to face them. “There is indeed news, of a new addition to the family and Estate. A male child, well formed and healthy. The doctor is still working on the patient, but says that the prognosis for both mother and child is good.”
“Our congratulations…” Beth began,
“Would you like to accompany me to the Camp hospital,” the First continued, “so that you will be able to see the newborn, and judge the extent of my obligation to you and, of course, the quantity of information which must be provided to discharge it?
“Among the females of my species,” he went on before they could reply, “a particular pleasure is derived from the close appraisal of a newborn. There are males who do not share this pleasure, and consider a newborn Keidi to be a small, squalling creature of great ugliness, but they are expected to keep such thoughts to themselves and join in the genera] admiration.”
“It is the same among Earth-humans,” Beth said, laughing.
The First made an untranslatable sound and said, “I am impressed with the ease with which we speak and understand each other. How is this done?”
Martin unfastened his wrist unit and held it up for the Keidi to see. “This device houses the two-way translator,” he said, “and it can also be switched to communications mode if we wish to contact the lander or the mother ship.”
There was no harm hi letting the Keidi leader know that, while the two off-worlders were unarmed and defenseless, powerful help was available within moments.
“And what is the purpose of the metal tube clipped to your foodpack?” the First asked, obviously worried about concealed weapons.
Martin handed the tube to the other, explaining that while Keidi water was quite safe for them to use provided it contained no substances toxic to Earth-human metabolism, the device was an analyzer which would detect the presence of harmful trace elements.
“Like your timepiece,” the First said, handing it back, “I expect it is capable of performing other wonders?” “No,” Martin replied, “this one has no other talents.” Outside the building containing the maternity ward, the vehicles stopped and Martin and Beth were told to wait in the vehicle while the First went, it said, to personally reassure his people about the off-planet visitors. He returned a few minutes later with four large, silent Keidi, who escorted them inside. The First’s personal bodyguard’s, Martin guessed. But a few minutes later he wondered if he had guessed wrong.
Beth’s suddenly worried expression showed that she, too, had realized that they were heading in the wrong direction.
The problem was that they knew that it was the wrong direction, but, because the First did not know of and could not be told about their earlier sensor scan of the building, they were not supposed to know that it was the wrong direction.
It was the Keidi leader who was doing all the talking, keeping up such a continuous flow of conversation that it would have been impolite if not impossible to interrupt. He gave them
a lot of very useful information as he described the maintenance work done on the building’s heating and lighting systems to provide comfortable accommodation for the people who were joining his family in increasing numbers. Even an off-worlder could see that there was no comparison between the standard of life in the mud city they had visited-or on one of the isolated fanning settlements scattered across the continent-and that which was available here and now. And in future years, as the population and security of the Estate increased, the effort now required for border defense would be directed inward so that living standards would further improve.
When they were escorted downstairs and into a dimly lit corridor, Martin had to say something before Beth did. She looked close to panic, which was how he felt.
“Why is your granddaughter being kept below ground level?” he asked quietly. “Is it warmer and more comfortable for her down here, or perhaps cooler?”
The First’s horn remained pointed toward the floor while they took several more paces, then he raised it only to say, “We are going into the next room on the left.”
As one of the escort opened the door for them, Martin hesitated and looked at Beth. Her face was pale, her lips pressed together and bloodless so that in the dim light her eyes and brows showed in stark contrast, as if drawn in charcoal on gray parchment. They both knew that they were walking into some kind of trap, but had to pretend that they knew nothing and walk right in.
Or did they?
Through the opening door Martin glimpsed the interior of a small compartment containing two of the high Keidi beds placed against opposite walls, a tall cabinet and a low bench or table. The walls were bare of decoration and the beds had mattresses but no bed linen.
“Run!” Martin said quietly.
He spun around and sprinted back the way they had come. But he had gone only three paces before his legs were kicked from under him and two Keidi grabbed his body and rolled him onto his back. One of them knelt on his legs and leaned forward to spread-eagle and immobilize his arms against the floor, the flared speaking horn puffing a sour smell into his face. The other Keidi grabbed him by the hair and banged his head hard against the floor while the fingers of the other hand were clamped tightly around his mouth.
Through pain-misted eyes he saw that Beth was on the floor and being similarly restrained. He tried to call to her, but the Keidi hand pressing against his mouth made it impossible to speak and very difficult to breathe.
Suddenly the First was bending over him and the grip around his left wrist tightened. He felt hard Keidi fingers digging into his wrist, pushing under the strap, tearing off the watch and with it a large piece of skin. His angry reaction was muffled by the Keidi hand.
“Your translation and communication devices have been removed,” the First said, “so that neither of you will be able to talk to your mother ship. Your clothing and foodpack will also be removed and examined for concealed information gathering or communication devices, but you may retain the food itself and the liquids analyzer. You would have found this process to be more dignified and comfortable if you had entered the room and it had been performed on the beds. But you became suspicious and your attempt to escape precipitated matters.”
The Keidi leader was holding both their translators in his hands as he went on, “Your speaking orifice will be uncovered so that we can talk. But you will talk only to me. If I suspect that you are trying to send a message to the ship, you will be stopped from speaking and possibly damaged. Since the methods of attachment and fastening are strange to us, one of your arms will also be freed so that you can assist with the removal of your clothing. While doing so, if I think that you are trying to activate a device concealed in the clothing, physical damage will result. If you understand and agree, spread out the digits of one hand,”
Martin did as instructed and the restraining hands were removed from his hair, mouth, and arm. He turned his head to see that Beth’s head and arm were also free. He took several deep, welcome breaths and tried to ignore the throbbing pain in the back of his skull. When he spoke Martin did not even try to be polite, because politeness in his situation would have been suspect.
Angrily, he said, “I became suspicious because I expected to see a ward containing medical attendants, the doctor, and your granddaughter. We came here at your invitation, and under your protection, to see the newborn, not to spy on you. This restraint and body search is totally unnecessary!”
He was pretending to believe that the First’s only concern was camp security, in the hope that if he played the outraged innocent, the other would be chivied into revealing more than intended. But if the old adage about attack being the best form of defense had its counterpart on Keida; the First knew exactly how to counterattack.
“You will both assist with the removal of your clothing,” the First said calmly, “and you will listen without interrupting while I speak.”
Unzipping the front of his one-piece, insulated suit, Martin raised himself to a sitting position while they peeled it down from his shoulders and arms and, knocking him onto his back again, pulled it and the attached boots off inside-out. His undergarment gave them no trouble at all, and he was pinioned once again by the arms and legs with the floor tiles hard and cold against his back.
“Some verbal misdirection is customary during forced negotiations with an enemy to whom one is obligated,” the First continued, “or with those whose active support of the family is uncertain. And your intelligence is low indeed if you thought that I had any intention of subjecting my granddaughter, in her present weakened state or ever, to the psychological trauma of a meeting with two of the Keida-destroying Galactics whose species is as visually repellant as the wrongs their hellish world has perpetrated against us are morally repulsive. Let them rise.”
The Keidi hands relaxed their hold and he scrambled slowly to his feet, wincing with the pain which exploded in his head. Beth was already standing and glaring at the First. Martin knew that the deep pink color flooding her face and neck was not due to embarrassment.
“You will enter the compartment prepared for you and spend the time there considering your position,” the First went on. “In spite of the terrible wrong you Galactics have done to my people, I still feel a personal obligation to you. And it may be possible for you to deepen and extend this obligation, and thereby improve the accommodation’s standards of comfort, by cooperating with me in various ways toward the future betterment of my people. I will leave you now to think.”
Two large, Keidi hands struck the back of Martin’s shoulders, propelling him into the room. He turned in time to keep Beth from falling as she was pushed in behind him. Then the door slammed shut and there was darkness except for the tiny, dim rectangle of light high on the door which was a Keidi eye-level grill.
Chapter 23
THAT two-faced, long-nosed, hypocritical son of a…” Beth began in an angry undertone, when Martin pulled her close to him with one arm and used his free hand to cover her mouth.
“I feel stupid,” Martin said loudly, turning his face toward the door. “When I saw that all of the doors in the corridor had viewing grills I should have realized that it was a detention area. His granddaughter may not even be in this building.”
He was reminding her that they were not supposed to know anything about the layout of the building and that then- chances of escaping would be increased if the First remained in ignorance of the earlier sensor scan. He felt her nod once to signify that she understood, then she bit his finger to show her disapproval of the manhandling.
“Are you hurt?” Martin asked loudly. They could hear the quiet movements of the Keidi on the other side of the door. They were probably listening to the captured translators, and Martin wanted them to hear what he had to say.
“Only my dignity,” Beth said. The voice was steady but her whole body had begun to shake. “What about you? I didn’t like the sound your skull made against the floor.”
“I think my head is damaged,”
he replied, and made a loud noise which he knew would not translate. “There is a large swelling, it is bleeding, and my thinking is confused. The medical pouch was removed with the suits. I must speak to the First. Will he be able to hear me on the translator from inside the cell?”
“Yes,” she replied, catching the ball neatly. “He can hear everything we say.”
Martin winced as he felt exploring fingers on the back of his head, then she stood on tip-toe to put her lips against his ear.
“The translator pickup isn’t all that sensitive,” she said in a barely audible whisper, “and according to the Keidi physiological data, neither is their hearing. You have a whopping bump growing back there, and you’ve lost some skin. Do you really have a concussion?”
“No,” Martin breathed into her ear, “but act as if I need the doctor, badly.”
“You’re bleeding” she said loudly. “The skin is broken and the way is open for infection by other-species bacteria, and there may be underlying damage to the bone structure. You…” She broke off, turned her head toward the door and yelled, “My life-mate needs medical attention! Please ask the doctor to come at once.”
“Nice,” Martin whispered approvingly. “You’re scaring even me.”
From the other side of the door they could hear soft hissing sounds-the Keidi seemed incapable of breathing quietly-but no other reaction. Martin guessed that the First had left a couple of guards and a translator outside with orders to listen and not speak. No doubt their words would be reported later, but in the meantime the apparent distress of one of the hated Galactics was of complete indifference to them.
Or was it?
“We’ve been left naked, cold, and hi darkness, without external contact or means of measuring elapsed time,” he whispered excitedly. ‘This is classic brainwashing technique designed to reduce our resistance to later…”
“Knowing what is being done to us,” Beth said angrily, “isn’t any great consolation right now. Dammit, my goose bumps have goose bumps.”
