This Day all Gods Die: The Gap into Ruin

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This Day all Gods Die: The Gap into Ruin Page 51

by Stephen R. Donaldson


  Cleatus dismissed the point with a swipe of his palms. “That’s admirable, I’m sure.” Without transition his air of amusement shifted to sarcasm. “Very forthcoming. But the mere existence of payments proves nothing. It won’t confirm what they were for. And on that crucial subject you’re just telling us what Warden Dios told you.”

  Then he turned from her to face the Council.

  “it’s all clear, isn’t it, Members, Mr. President? Koina Hannish delivers Warden Dios’ accusations against Holt Fasner. Naturally we believe her. We have every reason to presume she’s honest. And we’re all properly horrified.”

  Abruptly he raised his fist. “But consider the source. Look at what Director Hannish has just told us. Warden Dios selected Milos Taverner to ‘control’ Captain Thermopyle. Warden Dios knew that Taverner had ‘flexible loyalties’—that he was ‘for sale.’ Of course he knew. He bought Taverner himself. And yet he chose that same man to supervise a welded UMCP cyborg on a dangerous and highly sensitive mission inside forbidden space.”

  Despite the precariousness of her position, Koina took grim comfort from the fact that Cleatus didn’t challenge her explanation of the reasons Angus had been framed. He had to accept part of her story in order to attack the rest. He couldn’t defend the Dragon without letting her damage Fasner’s credibility as the man who was ultimately responsible for the UMCP.

  “On the surface, Members, Mr. President,” the FEA said, “that was a strange decision. A bizarre decision. But really it makes perfect sense. For one thing, it got Taverner out of the way so we can’t ask him to tell us his side of the story. And for another—” He tightened his fingers until his knuckles showed white. “Warden Dios knew Taverner would betray Captain Thermopyle! He was counting on it. Because he wanted the Amnion to commit an act of war. Exactly as Special Counsel Igensard has already suggested.

  “When Warden Dios chose Taverner to ‘control’ Thermopyle, he brought Calm Horizons here as surely as if he’d flared the Amnion an invitation.”

  Fane’s voice tightened like his fist. “Now this same Warden Dios is using his own PR director to confuse the issue with accusations against Holt Fasner so that the Council won’t recognize the enormity of his treason.”

  “He’s right.” Maxim scrambled to support the FEA. In fact, he seemed to address Cleatus instead of the Council. “Mr. Fane is right.” Under pressure, his pose of diffidence became a kind of hunger, urgent and abject. Apparently his ambitions required him to undermine the UMCP without tainting the UMC. “It’s the only answer that fits. Dios is just trying to confuse us.”

  With a severe effort, Koina kept her professional mask in place. “That may be true.” She shrugged against the vulnerability and loss straining at her nerves; the anger throbbing in her heart. “I can’t prove what I’ve said, one way or the other. I can’t prove that Director Dios didn’t lie to me.

  “I would like to point out, however, that the Preempt Act doesn’t benefit the UMCP. We’re stretched too thin as it is. We don’t have either the personnel or the ships to police all of human space. We need Station Security.” We need a budget that lets us do our job. “Extending our jurisdiction that far benefits only the UMC.”

  Before Cleatus could protest, she went on, “But all this is really beside the point I was trying to make.”

  Again Abrim Len surprised her by speaking. Earlier he’d sounded exasperated; worn down; unhappily resigned to conflict. Now his tone had a decisive quality she’d never heard him use before. In a clear voice he prompted her, “You were giving us Warden Dios’ explanation for the fact that an Amnion defensive has her super-light proton cannon aimed at this island.”

  He had no history of opposition to the UMC. Nevertheless, like Sixten, he seemed to draw strength from the plain thrust of Koina’s revelations. Perhaps he was finally starting to believe that it might be possible for the GCES to meet what he’d called “the general emergency” with a substantive response; that he and his fellow Members might at last begin to do their jobs.

  “Thank you, Mr. President.” Koina nodded. “That’s correct.”

  Fighting an impulse to hurry, she resumed revealing Warden’s secrets.

  “I mentioned two reasons. One is that Milos Taverner told the Amnion Nick Succorso has an effective antimutagen. Captain Succorso himself is directly responsible for the other.

  “I’ve already explained that we hired Succorso to help Taverner frame Captain Thermopyle. And we paid him with Morn Hyland. Since then we’ve learned that Morn was pregnant. Either she was pregnant when Captain Succorso took her, or she became pregnant shortly afterward. Under the circumstances—considering the character of the two men who could have victimized her—I wouldn’t venture to guess which is the father.”

  Koina suppressed a shudder at the thought of what Morn must have suffered. Here before the Council in Warden’s name, the PR director already faced as much violation as she could stand. Yet Morn had endured much worse—

  Warden himself might endure worse aboard Calm Horizons.

  Sternly Koina pushed herself ahead.

  “I can’t account for what happened after that. I’m not inside Captain Succorso’s mind. I can only tell you what he did.

  “Whatever his reasons may have been, he took Morn into forbidden space, to Enablement Station. There he somehow persuaded or tricked the Amnion into using a process called ‘force-growing’ on her fetus. The result was that she ended up with a mature son in a matter of hours instead of years. She named him Davies, perhaps because that was her father’s name.”

  The poor man had died with Starmaster, killed by Morn’s gap-sickness.

  “Apparently the outcome of this ‘force-growing’ wasn’t what the Amnion had expected, however. There’s something special about Davies, something I don’t understand and can’t describe. But in his flare to UMCPHQ Captain Thermopyle said, ‘Davies Hyland is Morn Hyland’s son, force-grown on Enablement Station. The Amnion want him. They believe he represents the knowledge necessary to mutate Amnion indistinguishable from humans.’”

  She paused to let the Members absorb the horror of this news; then concluded, “That is why the Amnion have risked an act of war. More than anything else, they want to be able to make themselves look and act just like us so they can infiltrate our space and destroy us without firing a shot.” Anger was all that kept her from trembling at her own words. “From their point of view, the stakes are more than high enough to justify the risk.”

  For a moment Members and their aides gaped dismay at each other; at Koina; at Cleatus Fane. Then President Len put in as if he wished to forestall a panic, “Forgive me, Director Hannish, but you still haven’t answered the question.” Like everyone else in the room, he probably had nightmares about the possibility she’d just described. “Why is Calm Horizons chasing Trumpet?”

  He was asking her to say it all. Make everything plain.

  She accepted the burden. She’d promised herself—and Warden Dios—that she would do her job.

  “Because, Mr. President, they’re all aboard. Nick Succorso. Morn Hyland. Davies Hyland. Even Dr. Shaheed, who did most of the research on Intertech’s mutagen immunity drug, before DA took his work away from him. Captain Thermopyle rescued them all from Billingate before he destroyed the installation.”

  “So if Punisher retrieved Trumpet’s people,” Blaine Manse murmured in amazement, “Morn Hyland is here.”

  Cleatus Fane swore under his breath. He must have known the truth; but for obvious reasons he didn’t want it spoken.

  In the privacy of her heart, Koina prayed that Warden had never meant to abandon Morn; that Angus had brought Morn back on Warden’s orders.

  “Member Manse is right,” she stated. “Calm Horizons has her proton gun aimed at us because she’s holding us hostage. The people who were aboard Trumpet are her real target.”

  Now she began to speak more quickly. Because she feared a panic as much as Len did, she tried to prevent another interjection.
The Members needed time to master their emotions. And she wanted to reach the end of the things she could say without support from Chief Mandich or Hashi Lebwohl. Her ability to restrain her anger was fraying; worn out by ruin.

  “Incidentally”—she referred back to Punjat Silat’s earlier question—“I think we can assume that Captain Succorso’s antimutagen explains why Trumpet headed for Massif-5. When Punisher engaged Calm Horizons, the Amnioni had stationed herself outside an asteroid swarm where Trumpet happened to be concealed. I’m sure it’s no coincidence that one of the largest bootleg labs in human space is located in that swarm.”

  “I know the one you mean,” Tel Burnish confirmed. “Deaner Beckmann’s facility.”

  Koina inclined her head toward the VI Member. “And when Trumpet emerged from the swarm, she came out broadcasting the formula for the drug. Shouting it in all directions as loudly as she could. Clearly Trumpet went to that swarm and that lab so Dr. Shaheed could analyze the drug he did so much to help create.”

  There she stopped. She was finished—stuck—without outside help. At least she’d carried out Warden’s orders: she’d done her job, for whatever that was worth. Nevertheless a clenched sense of outrage was all that kept her from despair. Without evidence she might as well have stayed on UMCPHQ; let Igensard and Fane do what they wanted with the emergency session.

  When she glanced over her shoulder at Forrest Ing, she saw a look of dumb misery on his face. He may have been surprised, even horrified, by some of the things she’d said; but he knew what she’d tried to do—and knew she’d failed.

  Neither of her communications techs met her gaze. They concentrated tensely on their separate links with Center; hardly seemed to be aware of anything else.

  White-lipped with strain, Cleatus spoke swiftly, hoarsely, into his pickup. Koina expected outrage from him—an expression of the Dragon’s hot fury. But she was surprised to see that he didn’t look angry. The stress in his eyes resembled frenzy; terror.

  Maxim had a different reaction, however. Here was his chance to step forward—resume control—and he took it like a snapping predator.

  “This is too much,” he objected. “I really can’t allow you to go on like this.” He was struggling to recover some of the moral superiority he’d generated earlier. “You’re doing it again, Director Hannish. Skipping over the points that matter most. Trying to baffle us with obfuscation.”

  Koina sighed wearily. “In what way, Special Counsel?”

  “Angus Thermopyle was a ‘welded’ cyborg,” he retorted, “isn’t that right? ‘Completely controlled by DA’s commands and restrictions,’ you said. So when he took Dr. Shaheed to that lab he was following orders. Warden Dios’ orders.

  “What kind of game is your boss playing now?”

  Cleatus was still on his feet, using his bulk—and his alarm—in an attempt to dominate the Council’s attention. “For that matter,” he added tensely, “how does it just happen that Dr. Vector Shaheed, of all people, ended up aboard Trumpet?”

  So she wasn’t done. Finished—but not done.

  Despite her fear that Warden’s hopes had crossed the brink of disaster, Koina did her best to outmatch her opponents.

  “it ‘just happened,’ Mr. Fane, that Dr. Shaheed was a member of Captain Succorso’s crew. He served as Captain Succorso’s engineer. Reports from Billingate indicate that Captain Succorso’s ship, Captain’s Fancy, was destroyed in the attack. Apparently only a few of his people survived. When he joined Trumpet, Dr. Shaheed was with him, as well as his command second, Mikka Vasaczk, and her brother, Ciro, Dr. Shaheed’s second.”

  Argue with that, you sonofabitch.

  Brusquely she turned to Maxim.

  “Special Counsel, Captain Thermopyle was not following orders when he fled to Massif-5. Director Dios knew that if Milos Taverner turned traitor Captain Thermopyle would be left without a ‘control’ to adjust his programming. And without appropriate adjustments he might become dangerous when faced with situations or exigencies not covered by his instruction-sets.

  “For that reason, his instruction-sets were written so that if he was betrayed he would have enough freedom of movement to provide for his own and Trumpet’s survival. In addition he was barred from returning to Earth until a new ‘control’ could be supplied. That was one of Min Dormer’s duties aboard Punisher. She was supposed to replace Milos Taverner. When Trumpet escaped Massif-5, however, Director Donner hadn’t yet succeeded—perhaps because Punisher was too busy fighting Calm Horizons.

  “Whatever Captain Thermopyle’s and Morn Hyland’s reasons may have been, they went to Massif-5 on their own.”

  Igensard tried a righteous sneer, but he was too harried and tight to carry it off. “Do you expect us to believe that?”

  Koina let her anger answer him. “I’m the UMCP PR director. I have a great deal more information than you do. If you can’t prove I’m wrong, I think you owe it to this Council and the people of Earth to start believing me.”

  For a moment silence answered her challenge. Members refused to meet her eyes. Their aides studied her as if she’d become oddly repulsive. Then President Len asked, “What will Warden Dios do? Why is he aboard Calm Horizons? Does he have any hope of keeping us alive?”

  She understood his real question; his indirect attempt at conciliation: Will Warden surrender Trumpet’s people to save us?

  “I don’t know, Mr. President.” For a moment grief swelled in her chest. “He didn’t tell me that.”

  “Can we talk to Morn Hyland?” Blaine put in suddenly. “Surely we can aim a dish at Punisher? Or route a channel through UMCPHQ?”

  Koina bowed her head. “I haven’t been authorized to do that, Member Manse.” She was beaten and desperate: she would have jumped at the chance to do as Blaine suggested. “Director Dios didn’t mention it. And I’m not in contact with Acting Director Donner. I don’t know whether she would sanction it or not.”

  If Warden had to surrender Trumpet’s people in order to preserve the Council, Morn might already be out of reach. Sold again—

  “Ask her,” Blaine urged. “What have we got to lose?”

  Cleatus flapped his hands dismissively. “I’m sure the acting director has her hands full,” he snorted. “She won’t have time to deal with us. Considering Dios’ behavior so far, she’s probably our only hope. I for one don’t want to distract her.”

  I’m sure you don’t, Koina thought. But she kept her opinion to herself. She didn’t have the heart to provoke him further. It was plain that too many of the Members agreed with him.

  Without warning Captain Vertigus tottered to his feet

  “Director Hannish, I have a question.”

  Maxim squared his shoulders and opened his mouth, clearly intending to cut Sixten off. To forestall him, Koina replied quickly, “I’ll answer it if I can, Captain.”

  Sixten gripped the back of Maxim’s empty seat as if he needed it to hold him up. His head wobbled weakly on his old neck. All the energy he could muster was focused in his voice.

  “I’ve been listening to these revelations with more than a little nausea. If I hadn’t had so many years to get used to the way Holt Fasner does things, I would probably be puking by now. But the single thing you’ve told us that sickens me the most can’t be blamed on him.

  “How in the name of conscience do you justify selling Morn Hyland to Nick Succorso?”

  He gave the impression that he held Koina accountable for Warden’s actions; but she knew better. She was simply the only person here who might tell him what was in Warden’s mind. He had work to do—work as hazardous as hers, and as necessary—but he needed something from her before he could do it.

  She let him see the distress on her face as she said, “I understand how you feel. Giving Morn to Nick Succorso when she’d just spent weeks as Angus Thermopyle’s victim was”—she opened her hands to show that her heart was open as well—“abominable. But we didn’t know how else to keep her alive.

  �
��She’s a witness to the fact that Captain Thermopyle was framed.” That the Council had been tricked into passing the Preempt Act. “If Com-Mine took her into custody, we were sure she would end up dead. CEO Fasner has a long reach. And he doesn’t want anyone to know the Preempt Act rests on a lie.”

  Sixten nodded. He seemed to accept her explanation; to believe her. A combative smolder showed in his eyes, and he straightened his back like a man who was about to go into battle.

  “In that case—”

  But he didn’t get to finish. Cleatus had started shouting.

  “That’s enough, Director Hannish!” he raged. “You’ve gone too far!” He seemed to draw strength from his PCR. “You admit—over and over again—that you don’t have any evidence. And yet you persist in these baseless accusations. It’s slander, and I won’t tolerate any more of it!”

  “Mr. Fane,” Sixten yelled back, “I have the floor!”

  “No, you don’t!” Maxim sounded frantic; on the verge of howling. “I do. I have the authority to question her. You’re just interrupting!”

  “Igensard!” Cleatus roared furiously.

  At once Maxim flinched backward a step; shrank into himself. In a thin voice he announced, “I yield the floor to FEA Cleatus Fane.”

  “Thank you,” Cleatus snapped.

  Heavy as a battlewagon, he strode to the dais, mounted it,and aimed his bulk at Abrim Len as if he meant to browbeat the smaller man.

  “Mr. President, I object to this whole debacle.” Iron indignation clanged in his voice. “You’ve allowed Director Hannish to retail the most malign falsehoods without restraint. This isn’t a court of law, but it should be. Warden Dios is on trial. Not Holt Fasner—the director of the UMCP. You can’t go on letting Dios’ mouthpiece taint this Council with irresponsible hearsay and unsubstantiated charges! If she can’t supply evidence, you should make her stop.”

  Apparently Abrim’s unfamiliar decisiveness had deserted him. It cost him too much: he couldn’t outface the Dragon’s minion. He seemed to recede into his chair as he asked Koina hesitantly, “Director Hannish, do you have an answer?”

 

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