The One-Eyed Man

by Modesitt,, L. E. Jr.

  I was very much afraid I knew exactly what he meant. “You don’t pose an easy question there.”

  “It wasn’t meant to be easy.” Roosan smiled wryly. “I’ve captured our discussion. I’d like your permission to share it with other councilors.”

  “Because they weren’t here?”

  “They couldn’t be. No one knew if you would come here.”

  That was true enough. “I’d appreciate it if you’d restrict it to councilors … and key staffers, if you think necessary.” He probably would have included some staff anyway, and I might as well make the gesture.

  “Thank you.” He stood. “I do appreciate your taking the time to talk with me, and to visit Jaens. I do hope we will see more of you in the future.”

  “And I you.” Again … for many reasons. I stood, as did Rahle.

  “We’d appreciate it if you’d wander through Jaens and talk to people,” added Roosan. “You don’t have to, but it might be useful to you.”

  “And to you,” I replied.

  “We wouldn’t suggest it otherwise. That doesn’t mean it’s not of value to you.”

  He was right about that as well. Sometimes, though, I get just a little irritated with people who always seem to be right.

  Rahle looked toward the door. So I inclined my head once more, then turned and made my way out.

  Outside in the corridor, a youngish-looking black-haired woman waited. She wore a red jacket over a pale gold shirt and black trousers and black boots—scarcely inconspicuous. Rahle looked to her. “Ebby, thank you for coming.”

  “My pleasure, ser.” She offered what I could only have described as a bubbly smile.

  “Doctor, this is Ebby Tiensu. She works for me, and she’ll accompany you to assure your safety. She won’t guide you unless you request it.”

  “I’d be a fool not to request guidance, especially here.” I smiled at her. “Could we begin with the sanitation works?”

  “That’s a good place to start,” she replied. “After that, everything will seem brighter.”

  “Enjoy your day,” said Rahle, stepping back.

  Ebby led the way along the tunnel corridor away from the Council chamber.

  “The bright colors are to put the focus on you, then?”

  “Naturally.” Even her voice was bubbly. Somehow, I could see her destroying an attacker without losing that bubbliness. That sent a chill down my spine.

  “I’m really not that bad,” she said softly, adding in the bubbly tone, “most of the time, anyway.”

  That she could read me that quickly didn’t help my feelings of apprehension, but we walked from the tunnel to a ramp and back outside, then another five blocks to the main sanitation center. I only took a few readings. From there, we visited templating centers, a school, three recycling centers, before she suggested the main shopping arcade, underground, but brightly lit with the same amplified piped light I’d encountered in the Council rotunda.

  As we walked down the ramp to the main arcade level, I asked, “Do you know how they manage to amplify the piped light?”

  “Not really. I understand that it requires a type of wave management that some of the science types at the university here reverse engineered from some of the airborne microorganisms.”

  “From the skytubes?”

  “Oh, no. You couldn’t do that. The upper atmospherics, the ones that diffuse the solar radiation.”

  “I wasn’t aware that they’d even been studied.”

  Ebby snorted. It wasn’t a bubbly sound. “The city types haven’t maybe.”

  “Do you think those microorganisms evolved or were evolved or engineered?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I think it does. Very much.”

  Ebby offered a bubbly laugh. “You should look at the shops and think about that later. Over there—see that shop. Each jacket is totally unique.”

  “Like yours?”

  “I got it there.”

  “Should I get one?” I wasn’t quite teasing.

  She stepped back and surveyed me, then shook her head. “You’re a classic, not a reb. You know it, and that’s good.”

  In the end, I didn’t learn much more—except that Jaens was as environmentally clean as any other outland community and certainly more so than Passova. I also got a decent dinner, but not an outstanding one. Ebby wasn’t into cuisine, but that wasn’t why she was accompanying me.

  After dinner, Ebby escorted me back to the guest quarters, rather lavish for the outland, I thought, with a study and a sleeping chamber, all containing a tasteful if somewhat formal decor of pale blue, dark blue, and cream.

  The whole matter of my “safety” was getting more and more interesting. The outlanders clearly wanted me safe. So did, I thought, Aimee and Syntex. I didn’t know about Aloris and Algeld, and I doubted that Morghan and Meralez cared at all. Zerlyna wasn’t out to get me, but might use me if she could. I got the impression that Kali cared to a degree, but Belk Edo was likely another matter. For Rob Gybl, I was just a means to an end, and clearly I’d been less than that to “Reksba.”

  That still left a few other matters I needed to look into. I linked into the local net and tried several different searches on the bombing incident, but while speculation still showed up on the main and secondary newslinks, there was nothing on the identity of the bomber. I thought about linking Kali … but realized it was the middle of the night, if not later, in Rikova, and it was well after hours at Syntex.

  So I went to bed.

  52

  When I woke on threeday, I knew what I had to do. I could only hope that I had enough time in which to do it … and that it would be a few more days before RDAEX stepped up efforts to implement its “project,” because at the moment I had no hard proof of what I knew to be true, and lack of hard evidence or proof doesn’t work when you’re facing the Alliance Space Force and a multibillion-duhlar multi, not to mention an executive wanting to keep the likely resulting Space Force contract worth billions, a possible independent spin-off, under his control, and a multimillion bonus. To make matters worse, even if I could find the hard evidence, revealing it would likely destroy Stittara itself in one way or another, if not several. While I knew I had to act, I still wasn’t sure what act would be effective, only that remaining in the outlands wouldn’t help in the slightest.

  Even before I did anything else, I used my link to search the news. Tapping into the outland network was faster than using the personal link, and Rahle would know what I’d looked for in any case. Of that, I was certain. I found what I was seeking. I watched it twice, concentrating on the critical part.

  NewsOne has learned that the Planetary Council is investigating the recent bombing of a Survey Services van in Passova. The man alleged to have planted an explosive device in the van being used by an ecologist on a mission from Bachman is thought to have ties to an Arm multi with operations and facilities on Stittara. Neither the patrol center nor the Council has responded to NewsOne inquiries. Nor has the identity of the bomber been released.

  After that, there were short interviews with people I didn’t know, either by title or name, all of whom either distrusted ecologists, multis, or the Council, if not all three.

  I fixed a quick breakfast in the Council’s guest quarters, cleaned up, picked up my gear, and headed out.

  Rahle joined me as I walked toward the parking bay. “Leaving us, I see.”

  “It’s time to head back to Passova.”

  “We also took the liberty of removing all the tracers from your van.” Rahle smiled.

  “Except yours?”

  “We don’t need tracers while you’re in the outlands, and we don’t need to know where you are when you’re not.”

  “You know you’re in danger?” I asked casually.

  “No, we’re not. You may be, though.”

  The way in which he said that told me that he was just as blind, in a different way, as the Planetary Council, and I was a stumbling, one-eyed man,
indeed, trying to see a way clear of catastrophe. All I could do was smile because to try to explain might well cause him to decide not to let me depart … or to take some other unwise act, all because he could not see what was so clearly before him. I did add, “Thank you. I’ll be as careful as I can.”

  Even by beginning early, driving at a speed faster than I was comfortable with, and taking the most direct route back to Passova, I didn’t ease the van to a stop in the Survey parking bay until a shade after eleven. From there I hurried to my office, nodding to Dermotte in the corridor, and immediately dropping in front of my console.

  The first thing I did was to call up detailed maps of the area between Donniga and Docota. As I’d suspected, the badlands were shown, but only labeled as “rough terrain (minimal ecological diversity).” That was certainly one way of putting it. I did a global search. There were 1311 such areas on Stittara.

  I tried not to shudder. That meant I had to find out more about the status of the RDAEX project … and soon.

  I tried a link to Kali. She wasn’t answering.

  My second link was to Aimee Vanslo. She wasn’t in, either.

  Do you want to try Edo now? I didn’t. Not yet.

  So I walked over to Aloris’s spaces.

  She looked up in mild surprise, but not in shock. “I thought you were in the outlands.”

  “I was. I’m back for a while.”

  “How did it go?”

  “I saw a number of outland communities and some interesting sights, officially called something like rough terrain of minimal ecological diversity.”

  “The badlands?”

  “That’s more accurate. Who came up with the euphemism?” I had a good idea why, but I wanted to hear what she had to say.

  “I don’t know. It was well before my time. Jorl might know.”

  “I’ll ask him. I do need to talk to him.”

  “What else happened?” The hint of a smile crossed her lips.

  “Besides taking lots of measurements in more outland communities? Not much. I did meet with the outland head of security and the first councilor of the Outland Communities Council.”

  “They were willing to meet with you?”

  “They seemed to think my assignment was important. They insisted on meeting with me.”

  “I don’t recall who holds those positions…”

  I understood. She wondered how much I was stretching the truth. “Merrik Rahle, tall, honey-dark skin, and short red hair. Deepest bass voice I’ve ever heard. He’s the head of security and a councilor. Tedor Roosan, the first councilor, small, thin, black hair shot with silver.”

  “That’s … quite something. Did they say why they wanted to meet with you?”

  “They wanted to impress on me the complete interdependence of all facets of Stittaran ecology … and to assure me that they respected that interdependence.” That was absolutely true, although I wasn’t about to elaborate.

  “Kind of them.”

  “At least, they didn’t throw me out.” I smiled. “I need to see Jorl.” With a nod, I left and headed toward enforcement.

  Jorl Algeld was standing outside his doorway. He looked as though he’d been expecting me, and he walked into his office and shut the door behind us before speaking. “Why did you remove the tracers on the van? If anything happened to you, no one would have been able to help you.”

  “I did nothing of the sort. I wouldn’t know a tracer from a neutrino neutralizer.” I didn’t even know if such a device existed, but I’m not always the best at inventing things on the spur of the moment.

  “Someone did.”

  I shrugged. “They might have been removed before I left Passova. Or someone in the outland communities did.”

  “They weren’t removed here. They vanished once you got to Jaens. It had to be…” Algeld shook his head. “Could have been any of them.”

  “Any of whom? The Outland Council members? Their staff? Or agents of the Planetary Council?”

  Algeld sighed. “We’d like you to finish your study. Alive. In one piece.”

  “It doesn’t help much when things are mislabeled or misdescribed … such as ‘rough terrain of minimal ecological diversity.’”

  “All you had to do was ask.”

  I found I was actually glaring at the idiot. “When you use words to hide meaning, you’re lying. When there are no words and no descriptions, when critical facts are simply not there, that’s also lying. You can call it deception in the cause of a greater good, or service to a higher ideal, but in the end, it’s lying, and it will cost you in ways you can’t possibly comprehend because you’re perverting the very basis of human communication, and every time in history that’s happened on a large scale the result has been disaster. I just hope that doesn’t happen here.”

  He actually stepped back, but his face reddened. “You may be the best ecologist in the galaxy, but you’ve been on Stittara a month or so…”

  “—and I have absolutely no understanding of the history or what everyone here has gone through. Nor do I understand the constraints imposed upon the Survey Service and the Planetary Council, or the economic pressures exerted by the presence of powerful multis. Is that it? Or would you like to add more?”

  He opened his mouth, then shut it. After a long moment he said, “I hope you know what you’re doing. For the sake of everyone.”

  “I don’t. Not exactly, but what I do know is that your planet-wide conspiracy of silence hasn’t a chance against the forces already in motion.” Nor does your self-imposed blindness to the implications of what you already know. But that … that I wasn’t ready to say.

  “What do you plan to do?”

  “What needs to be done.” As soon as I can figure out what exactly that is.

  When I got back to my console, I checked for messages, even though my link should have alerted me. Neither Kali nor Aimee had returned my link. So I tried to reach Geneil Paak. She was in.

  “What can I do for you, Dr. Verano?”

  “Help me with some geologic dating. On my recent tour of outland communities, I drove past something the outlanders called a badlands. They said it was more than a million years old. What can you tell me about the badlands?”

  “There’s not too much known beyond what you saw. Did you examine the stone at all?”

  “As I could. I couldn’t even scratch it with a rock hammer.”

  “It’s as tough as any composite, and very resistant to geologic and environmental forces.”

  “What’s it made of?”

  “It’s effectively a natural composite, call it anomalous stone. It can be cut, but it’s scarcely worth the effort.”

  “How old are the badlands?”

  “All of the badlands appear to date to the same time period, a little over three million years ago.” She paused, as if that were significant.

  Three million years ago? Why would that … I swallowed, then said, “The only thing I knew about that period was that it was the time of the first Ansaran Expansion.”

  “There’s nothing in the files, Doctor,” she said, her voice precise and careful, “but it is said that there are places where strangely shaped objects are visible through translucent sections of stone.”

  “Hasn’t anyone investigated?”

  “In the early years there were dozens of expeditions. Most of those records were lost, but you can check the more recent ones, if you want. There’s no record of anyone ever finding anything.”

  Or if they did, they didn’t record it. That all sounded preposterous … until I thought it over. Stittara wasn’t a small world. The population was only a few million, and there were over a thousand badland areas, ranging in size from fifteen square kays to over 150. If there were only scattered traces … it was quite possible that official investigators had found nothing … particularly if, over time, they had become less and less motivated. It was also possible that the records of those few traces found earlier had been lost in the storms before shielding
and full power backups had been installed.

  “Did you ever investigate a badlands?” I asked.

  “Most of us did at one time or another,” Geneil admitted. “It’s work, though. You need ropes and backups because the stone is so smooth. Once in a while someone gets caught there and dies. Mothers warn their children, all the time.”

  “Did you ever see anything … unusual?”

  “The whole place was … spooky. Outside of that, it was like vitrified geological chaos, as if all sorts of materials had been melted and swirled together, and left to congeal willy-nilly.”

  “No sign of technology melted inside that stone?”

  She smiled, faintly. “I always wondered. Most of the kids I knew did, but we never saw anything like that.”

  Given how weird Ansaran stuff looks anyway, how would outland children even know?

  “Is there anything else you can tell me about the badlands? Radioactivity? Magnetic field distortions?”

  She shook her head. “The only strange things are that they all date from the same time, and that they all are composed of the same general type of composite. It’s called natural, but it appears nowhere else in nature.”

  As if those weren’t strange enough. “Thank you. If I have other questions, I’ll get back to you.”

  “I’ll be here, Doctor.”

  I sat there in front of a blank console for several moments before I tried to reach Aimee Vanslo again. She was there.

  “Paulo. I saw you’d linked. I can’t talk long.”

  “I just wanted to see if my thoughts had been useful…”

  “Your observations cleared up a number of misconceptions on the part of several parties.” She offered the professional smile. “Our friend Gybl has vanished, as well, but I’ve been led to believe he was trailing the other man, who was the one who opposed the takeover.”

  “You’re convinced of that?”

  “As much as is possible under the circumstances. How is your assignment coming?”