by Jim Rudnick
"Stonecraw Qew, how nice that you could join us this evening," he said, and he held out his hand to shake the Enkians.
That seemed to catch Stonecraw Qew off-guard, but a moment later, he too held out his hand and allowed Tanner to shake it a few times.
"This is called 'shaking hands,' Qew," Tanner said, "and it's a sign of respect, indicating that the two people respect each other."
Qew nodded back and smiled, rippling his feathered crest.
Seems like he likes being called a person that I respect, Tanner thought.
Looking down the corridor, he saw no one else. Odd, he thought, and he caught his XO's eye inside the room and waved him over.
"The Marwick crew?" he said.
"Sir, sorry—thought you knew. Recalled back to Faraway—the trade wars with Leudi have erupted, and I hear there are some casualties too. They jumped more than an hour ago, so sudden that I'd guess Captain Templeton didn't have time to say goodbye. Most likely, he'll Ansible you soon. Oh, and that means that—at least according to the Barony orders—we are now the 'ship of record' too. I hear that the ambassador has already been moved into one of those big owners quarters way forward, and his staff are bringing over his effects, files, and all the diplomatic stuff to the Atlas. We win—least that's how it looks, Sir," he said, and Tanner could catch only the tiniest bit of sarcasm in Kondo's voice.
"Um, okay ... that's news, but sure. No RIM Navy vessel sent out to replace the Marwick, I take it?"
"Sir—not at this point far as I know. We will be advised though, we were told," Kondo said.
Tanner raised an eyebrow, and it was met with the same look back from Kondo.
Having just been along for the ride was one thing—but now, the Atlas was the ship the ambassador called home, and that meant the rules might change for them all, but that remained to be seen.
#####
The EYES ONLY was quickly Ansibled for Bram, and he took his place at his desk in his quarters and waited for the face of his Master Adept to resolve on his monitor screen. Moments later, her face appeared, and the first thing that Bram thought was that being the Master of the Issians who could read minds looked like it took its toll.
She looks tired, he thought, and that's about as nice as I can put it.
There were lines in her face that he'd not noticed before; crow's feet they were called, and on her face, they were deep. Below them, the two lines that normally ran down the side of the end of the nose to the chin area were also deeply carved and the shadows were blackened. Her normally bright brown eyes were fine though less bright perhaps, but the whites were heavily saturated with those red blood vessels that one sees on faces that are so troubled. Wearing her usual browns, her jersey had some stains on it, he thought, and she was seated in a chair that seemed too big for her, and she often squirmed un-self-consciously it appeared to him too.
"Master, I wanted to speak to you soon as I had some results for those input testing events. And I can report that they were all successful," he said as he smiled at her.
She didn't smile back but her hand seemed to flutter at him to quicken his report.
"Master, I tested twice for three different Enkian subjects," he said as he began to rattle off the details about the three Enkians he had tested.
"One was a Militia officer, male, about thirty years old. From him I was able to change a course of action, change a choice of food at a banquet, and change an opinion of some art that he was considering buying. Lastly, I was also able to read ahead for him almost by ten minutes too—a sign I think that speaks well for us.
"Number two was a much older female, one of the five leaders of the Words Muse, and I found her to be exactly the same. I was able to change her opinion in an upcoming case in their courts and change her ability to decide on who to hire for a new assistant and even on what to wear. I was, however, unable to see much of her future—only as far ahead as a mere two minutes. Both, however, were accurate."
He then presented his final case.
"Finally an opportunity presented itself when I went to a small art class in the Fine Arts Muse pyramid, where I sat with more than a dozen younglings—those are Enkians of less than twelve years of age. Each was the same. Each I could change from what color to use next on their paintings to what sculpture tools to use on their works in progress. I was also able to see well ahead for them—more than a half hour ahead in all cases—and all proved valid," he said with a small degree of pride.
The Master nodded. "You have done well—and apparently you have been fairly successful, Bram. My thanks, but now to the meat of the matter," she said, and it might have been Bram's connection, but her face seemed to droop even more.
"We—well, those of us with the long-term sight ability—have seen war ahead. There is no doubt, it appears. And while at this point we do not have a timeline on it, the war does appear to be somehow linked to Enki. Our best and brightest have all been called home to Eons for our work on what to do about this. And you, you will be our Issian on the scene. We will watch, and if an opportunity to help, to mold, to modify this threat comes from your position on Enki—then we will contact you immediately. Understood, Adept?"
He nodded to his Master and the screen faded to black. .
#####
It was time, Tanner thought, to double-check his recon. If asked, I know what to say—but double-checking the RIM ambassador is an iffy thing to do. He truly felt it was iffy and he sighed. "Yet," he said to "I have to know more and that requires my own talks with the Fine Arts Muse leaders.
He smiled at the EliteGuard who had just stuck his head in the doorway.
"If my guests are here, they are welcome," he said, and moments later, three Enkians walked into the small conference room on Deck Five, just near the bridge.
Bram, the Atlas Adept officer, greeted them, seated them, and had the stewards offer up refreshments, which took only a few minutes.
And then they all stared at Tanner as Bram dropped into a chair beside him on the Atlas side of the table.
Feathered crests of blue and red topped the heads of Fine Arts Muse Enkians, and it struck him those were the same exact colors of the Barony crest. "Noted," he said to himself, and he smiled at the leader of the muse, Eecesoe Qig. He was about average in height with the same plumage as all Enkians, but one thing was different—his hands looked strong with knotted veins and very muscular too. Wonder what he does that gets his hands and forearms so built up. But judging by the way they were all looking at him, they were waiting for something.
So he gave it to them.
"The RIM ambassador has taken me into his confidence—I understand that if we use whatever influence we have to get you the head juror's position, then you'll guarantee that Enki will become a RIM Confederacy member. Have I stated that deal—in its entirety—correctly, Qig?" he said.
The three Enkians sat back and looked among themselves, and after a second or two, they switched to Enkian. The conversation appeared to grow somewhat heated. One of the Fine Arts Muse leaders was shaking a talon at Qig and seemed to be counseling one thing, and both Qig and the remaining Enkian were counter-arguing. Tanner had no idea about what—and he made a mental note that he would see about getting someone to learn Enkian so that he and anyone else from the RIM could learn surreptitiously.
As he waited, he glanced over at Bram and raised an eyebrow.
Bram nodded and held up a single finger—his code that he had something but would wait until they were alone.
A minute or two later, the feathered crest on top of Qig's head rippled loudly, and it stopped their heated discussion abruptly.
Qig turned back to Tanner, dipped his head slowly, and then raised his eyes to stare directly into Tanner's.
"Captain—you have caught us by surprise, in that we did not expect our confidential discussions with the RIM ambassador to be shared. That said, you have stated the case—the deal as you have called it—almost in its entirety. One thing, however, you have not me
ntioned."
Qig looked up at the ceiling for a moment, and Tanner wondered if it was for some kind of memory that he was accessing or if he might be asking his deity—if Enkians even had one.
"What we have found, Captain, is that the muse—our muse I refer to—Fine Arts forbids the kind of friendship and intermingling that many other worlds and societies revel in. We see all non-muse Enkians as outsiders—as our enemies—who lack in the responsibility and accountability to be beholden to our values. They are not to be trusted, and as we see it, we Fine Arts Muse citizens are always right."
Tanner thought on that for a moment as Qig took a brief second to gather more thoughts. It's like he's talking about a cult or a religion rather than a group of aliens who can all paint well. This was a bit odd, he thought, as Qig looked at him once more.
"As well, Captain, we have our own Fine Arts sacred books—like all the Enkian muses have their own—and our books remind our muse citizens about what our muse is all about. About how ours is the only muse that is silent—all of the others require one to listen to something—words or acting or music or dances. Ours is the only reflective muse where one turns inwards to see what is inside each of us as one gazes at a painting or a sculpture for example. All the others depend on audio input—ours, of course, as the superior muse is the only one that is silent. It allows us to reflect on our own feelings, our temperament, our superiority—all are found inside each of us and, as our sacred books relate, are a Fine Arts Muse citizen's privilege."
His tone was solemn and reverential, Tanner thought, just like a religious leader, and that might be only a facet of this single muse. Or was it
Qig looked down at his hands, each clasped together, holding on it appeared, but for what Tanner wondered.
We will soon know. He again sipped his tea as the Fine Arts Muse leader took a moment to couch his answer.
"Captain, the only part that you did not mention was the penalty that we would inflict should you not be successful," he said slowly.
"You mean, of course, what the Fine Arts Muse would do if you do not get the head juror position, correct?" Tanner asked.
"Yes, Captain—we would then file cases with the jurors to keep Enki out of the RIM Confederacy. While this sounds like a small thing, let me assure you that in the Enkian judicial system, filing just such a case then would put the issue—our joining the RIM Confederacy—on hold until the case is fully heard and deposed and decided. And, we also would file these cases one by one for all of our more than millions of Fine Arts Muse citizens. One by one. We do have some estimations that this would take over four hundred years, which would also, of course, put the rest of the judicial system on hold. Nothing else would be heard or decided. The turmoil, we think, would be astronomical—more than has ever happened before on Enki. And yes, we realize that this is an extreme penalty—but we have no choice. Enki cannot endure a slide to the right that would occur if the Words Muse leader, Uigoeri Qor, should be elected to the head juror position. We will do anything to prevent that move to ultra-conservatism. Anything—as you can tell," he said, and those hands were clenched so tightly that Tanner could see the veins were distended and pulsing rapidly.
He looked at Bram for a moment and then back to the Enkians across the table.
"Understood, Qig. We did not know about that, um, penalty as you call it. But it is noted, and I perhaps know why the ambassador might have left it out of our brief. That said, the deal does beg the question, Qig. We are strangers here on Enki; we do not even know your language; we are less than forty RIM citizens—so exactly how do you think we can help you gain the head juror position?"
It was true that the RIM had some strength here, in that they had such superior technology and knew more about governance than the Enkians. However, he wondered just what it was they could do.
The three Enkians just stared at Tanner.
Qig nodded to Tanner and those hands unclenched and opened palms up on the table.
"Captain—that, of course, is up to you. There will be the usual five candidates who will debate, then there is the election, and the results are made known. We do not know how you will do your magic. But you will do it. Or, the Fine Arts Muse will tie up the RIM Confederacy membership for as long as we have citizens to file a case, one by one, day after day ..."
Tanner frowned and looked at Qig and the others. Was there something not being said? "So then ask," my old admiral had always said ...
"Qig, we have almost no chance in ensuring that you are the successful candidate. You know that—so what are you not saying?" Tanner said, and he too held out his hands, palms up on the table, mirroring Qig, and waited.
"The only way that would work for sure—is if I was the only candidate," he said quietly. "As we have learned, technology eats away at our muses—this knowledge we have learned over dozens of generations as we have seen our traditional muse beliefs require greater and greater mental defenses against threatening technology. To stay strong, we train our muse citizens to practice self-deception, to shut out contradictory evidence, and to trust our own leaders more than their own capacity to accept technology. We know that competing ideologies do not work; therefore, we choose to follow our muse. Hence, the very second-class position of our Resources and Militia Enkians. They do not matter. They do not. Hence, I cannot go to them for this—which is why we have come to you. And as you have obviously surmised, Enki needs me as the next head juror."
Tanner suspected that, but he was surprised the Enkian had come right out and said it.
We—the RIM group—are to get rid of the other candidates, so Qig is the only running Enkian for the head juror position.
Murder. Oh, it could be called something else. But that is what it was.
"Or, at least the only candidate that was a viable one. Qor of Words is the favored one, the rest are all just ballot placeholders. If he disappeared, then the job would be mine. One candidate to be ... removed. Yes, removed is the word. Can that be accomplished, Captain?"
His hands reached for each other, the fingers intertwined, the veins distended and pulsed.
Tanner nodded. He didn't know what else to do, so he nodded and then said, "Yes, that could be arranged," and his voice too was low and solemn.
Qig rose immediately, and followed by his Fine Arts Muse team, they left the room without another word.
Bram put a hand on Tanner's forearm. "Sir, one thing to note? That I am still learning how to read an Enkian—and other aliens as well—they were all very much surprised that you knew about this. And I got the feeling that the ambassador fell in their eyes for telling you about this deal. And the ending of the penalty part of same did not foretell that what they're talking about is what amounts to murder—assassination perhaps it could be called. But someone has to cut down the slate to only four candidates. And that someone is us, Sir," he said, his voice small.
Tanner nodded and sat to consider what they'd just learned. Somehow, they were to get rid of the Words Muse leader, Uigoeri Qor, by whatever means needed, so he was no longer a candidate, which would ensure Qig was elected—and the RIM Confederacy gained a new member. And the RIM also would gain access to the Enkian metal that would keep their ships safe from any kind of a ray weapon. Big stakes, Tanner thought, as big as they could get. And all he had to do was to find a way to get this all done ... and not murder anyone. Unless—and he hated adding this—there was no other way.
I could not do it myself, but I could order it, he thought as he realized he was waffling on this.
No, I couldn't do that either ... could I?
#####
Bram and Kondo looked at their captain, and both were surprised by what they'd just heard.
It was not too often that they received a PDA EYES ONLY to come to their captain's ready room STAT, but that's exactly what had happened just a few minutes ago. Tanner had taken them into his complete confidence, and they were now aware of the need to get the Enki planet into the RIM Confederacy due to the va
lue of this new "probe metal" as it was being called. Tanner knew this news was to be kept private, but he also knew that a good captain—and he counted himself in that small group—needed to have his own confidants, and Bram and Kondo were surely that.
"That's what you need to know. I ask, of course, that this remain between us only—no one else other than the ambassador has all of this information, but it appears like it's up to us—me, I guess—to find an answer. Comments, gentlemen?"
Bram deigned to Kondo who looked at Tanner with a tilted head.
"Sir, if I have this correct—and please let me know if I'm reading anything into this—but do you consider the Enkian muse society like a religion? A system of five different cults all interested in their own muse only. Is that right?" he asked, and anyone could see he didn't know if he was correct.
Tanner took a sip of tea at his desk in the captain's ready room and looked around the azure blue room. Carpeted to help keep the noise down, the room was plain with riveted bulkheads, an exterior view-port, and the captain's big desk with his console and monitors. The tea was sweet and yet still good, he thought. Too bad this trip to Enki was getting so damn difficult. Probe metals versus murder. Interesting was another word too ...
"You have my take on this, and yes, that's what I think we've blundered into here on Enki. While the muses are cults, however, I can add that at this point they appear to use their judicial system to pursue all their difficulties—not a hint at this point of any kind of cult wars or jihads. At least as far as we know so far, admittedly not the best thing to rely on," he said.
Tanner took another sip of tea. "If you think about it—cult does describe perfectly what the muses are. As we all know, having bumped into this kind of thing before. At best, the muses offer up teachings like these to discourage or even forbid the kinds of friendship and intermarriage that might help broaden a cult—where other muses or clans become a part of a larger full societal whole. At worst, outsiders or non-muse members are seen as enemies of their muse and goodness, potential agents of Satan, lacking in morality and not to be trusted. Muse believers might huddle together, anticipating martyrdom. When simmering tensions erupt, societies fracture along sectarian fault lines, and here on Enki, those fault lines are very clearly drawn."
