The One-Eyed Man

by Modesitt,, L. E. Jr.

  “… the only clue is that the multi RDAEX had planned to conduct tests in a confined deep bore yesterday. The tests were the first step in a project to develop a radical new power application, according to sources. It has also been reported that a Survey Services scientist had contacted RDAEX asking that the tests not be conducted on environmental grounds…”

  There was more, and it went on and on, but there was essentially nothing new. An entire city gone, so sorry, terrible news …

  I got tired of sitting there, and finally dressed and cleaned up, and then made my way to my office. I could at least start on putting together my report. I didn’t feel like it, but what else was I going to do?

  Less than an hour after I’d begun to organize data, the screen announced, “Executive Vanslo.”

  “Accept.” I couldn’t say I was surprised.

  Aimee’s image appeared. She looked as tired and bedraggled as I felt. “I thought I’d find you there.”

  I forced a rueful smile. “Where else would I be?”

  “You were that anonymous scientist who warned Edo not to do the tests, weren’t you?”

  “Yes.” I nodded. There wasn’t any point in denying it.

  “Did you actually know this … would happen?”

  “Actually know? No. There were indications that it wasn’t a good idea, especially after the Pentura episode…”

  “What indications?” Her voice was sharp. “And you didn’t tell me?”

  “Except for Pentura, they were millions of years old…” I went on to explain about the forerunners and the “Ansaran badlands” as well as I could, ending up with words that were becoming all too trite, true as they were, “… and even with all that, I had absolutely no scientifically verifiable proof, no way to use the Survey’s injunction power—and I couldn’t do that anyway, because I’m only a consultant. All I could do was link Belk Edo and tell him essentially what I told you. I had the feeling they were pursuing the same lines or lines similar to Pentura. I worried about it. I even asked Edo to reconsider. He laughed and said I was a fifth-rate engineer. He complained to the Planetary Council, and one of the Council’s staffers contacted me before the tests, and I told her as well.”

  “That was why you were relieved that I was at Syntex?”

  “Yes. If you had been at RDAEX, I would have suggested you leave.”

  She didn’t say anything for a time.

  I waited.

  “I could bring you into this, you know?”

  “I don’t think that would be a very good idea. You pointed out that Edo remained independent until after the project was completed. He kept the details hidden from you. He certainly kept them from me. With nothing remaining of the RDAEX Stittara facility, I doubt that whatever plans Edo had for the spin-off and whatever possible contracts he may have had will ever come up.” I wasn’t about to mention the possibility of the Alliance Space Force tie-in on a monitored console. While I had hinted at it earlier, I doubted that the Planetary Council, for reasons of its own, would ever raise the issue, either.

  “That’s true.”

  “So far as the Stittaran environmental assessment is concerned, there’s nothing left to assess of RDAEX, and the initial indications are that the destruction, however accomplished by whatever force, will not have long-term consequences on the environment, except in a small area, and that area will be indistinguishable from other badlands. Syntex is fully in compliance with all environmental requirements.” I smiled politely, much as I didn’t feel like it.

  “You can be quite convincing, Paulo.”

  “I wish I’d been more convincing to Edo.”

  She shook her head. “He didn’t want to see what you showed him.”

  Like all too many of the willful blind everywhere, but I didn’t say that. “And his unwillingness to listen and look beyond cost thousands their lives.”

  “It’s also going to be expensive for VLE. It could have ruined us, except that the liability rested with RDAEX Stittara and its assets until the project was completed to our satisfaction. That was a requirement for the spin-off, and the Alliance Space Force may have some liability as well. Even so, the ancillary claims on VLE will still be significant…”

  Trust Aimee not to have VLE exposed any more than necessary, I reflected.

  “What are you going to do, Paulo?”

  “Finish my contract assignment. What else?”

  “And after that?”

  “I’ll have to consider.”

  “VLE could use someone like you.”

  “Thank you, but I won’t make any decisions until after I turn in the assessment.”

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  The screen blanked.

  I sat there. Somehow … I wasn’t that thrilled with the idea of working for VLE or Syntex, or Aimee.

  I had to wonder. Was whatever the Stittaran intelligence/entity was or what those entities were … did they consider human cities or communities as single intelligent entities? That would make sense …

  Are fingers smart?

  56

  Purple is the loneliest color of all

  Standing guard alone along the world’s wall

  Ilsabet skipped along the top of the ridge. Then she stopped and looked to the east, empty of skytubes, seemingly oblivious to her guardian beside her. “The clouds sweep, and the sky will weep.”

  “Are you talking about what happened after you talked to the doctor the other day?” asked Clyann.

  “Too long are the years; too great are the fears.”

  “I’m sorry, Ilsabet.” Clyann paused. “Did you like him?”

  “He saw what few will see. That makes him kin to me.”

  “He won’t stay here, not after what he saw in your eyes,” replied the guardian softly.

  “What’s seen is done, even under a hidden sun.”

  “Isn’t it always that way?”

  Abruptly Ilsabet laughed, childlike. “Daisies are the perkiest flowers, don’t you think? Petals of sun and light, centers of ink.”

  57

  I spent most of sevenday in the office at the Survey Service, working on my assessment. I had enough tables and data to begin setting it up, and it took my mind off Kali … for at least part of the time. I also knew I needed to meet with Benart Albrot and probably Reeki Liam, if only to be able to note their input on the final assessment, although I doubted that whatever they said would likely change anything, only provide supplemental support. And supplemental support was always good, especially on an assessment of the kind mine would be.

  Beyond that, there were other realizations that ran through my thoughts, too many things that hadn’t made sense, or that I knew had made sense, but hadn’t figured out why, were now all too clear.

  Extreme longevity had its cost, biologically, and one of those costs had to be a far lower fertility level, especially among males. That likely accounted for the attraction of local older women to outworld males, most probably almost a subconscious and biologically triggered recognition of a higher probability of offspring. With a lower probability of offspring, male hostility to offworld males was higher, although that baseline hostility to all other males was already high, but there couldn’t be too high a level because population levels were low … and those were just a few of the ramifications.

  I still didn’t know exactly the foundation of the Stittaran intelligence, or intelligences, and I doubted that I ever would … or anyone would—not until that intelligence decided on a more direct form of communication. But then … were we too different from each other for that to happen? Or did the Stittaran intelligence just prefer it that way?

  As for attempting to document what I knew to be true … that wasn’t going to happen, for two reasons. The first was that if I did so, there would be more Belk Edos … and the disasters that would follow. There would be anyway, in time, but I saw no point in speeding that up … and condemning four million Stittarans to what had apparently occurred to the forerunners and t
he Ansarans. There are times when believing the best of human beings is foolishness, if not insanity.

  The second reason was that any such attempt to prove what I knew had the same problem as I’d had with the RDAEX project. I had no real evidence, nothing that couldn’t be explained away. For all that anybody could determine, what had happened to Rikova might just be an occasional fluke irising and focusing of the microorganisms that shielded the planet. After all, why bother with something that only happened every few million years? Especially when Stittara was the source of the anagathics that kept hundreds of millions of Arm citizens youthful to ages once only dreamed of.

  All of that was, of course, going to complicate what I was getting paid to do on Stittara.

  Between thoughts and work and regrets, and some quiet mourning, I made it through sevenday, and even managed to get some sleep that night … and wake and return to my work on oneday.

  The quiet didn’t last more than a few moments after I returned to the office.

  The screen announced Paem Melarez, and I accepted.

  “Good morning, Doctor.”

  “It is morning,” I replied.

  “We need to set up your briefing for the Council. Several councilors are still in Contrio. What about fourday at ten in the morning.”

  Since she wasn’t really requesting, I nodded and said, “Ten on fourday. How much detail do you and Councilor Morghan want?”

  “I think just your basic concerns and why you were concerned, with as much environmental support as you can provide in a brief statement.” She paused. “You might also address what effect the disaster might have on your environmental assessment.”

  “I doubt it will have much effect. The disaster doesn’t appear to have altered the ecology, except in a very limited region. But I can address that.” In my own way …

  “Since there was a putative takeover by VLE/Syntex, I imagine they aren’t pleased,” ventured Melarez, clearly wanting a reaction.

  “I’ve already discussed this with Executive Vanslo. She is not totally pleased, but insofar as my assessment mentions the disaster, my report will lay the entire responsibility for the disaster on the secretive practices of Executive Edo and the failure of RDAEX to consult with the environmental specialists of both other multis and of the Survey Service.”

  “Nothing … else?”

  I managed a rueful smile. “What else is there? The badlands prove that what happened at Rikova has happened before, tragic as it is. Every world has some natural phenomena that are not entirely predictable and that can prove fatal. It seems to me that the citizens and government of Stittara have, with the regrettable exception of RDAEX, managed to achieve an environmental balance, while providing great benefits to the people of the Unity. I don’t see much sense in throwing all that away with unfounded speculations.”

  “You’re not just saying that, are you?”

  I shook my head … and meant it. “No. You can read what I write after it’s done. You can’t edit it, though, but you shouldn’t have to, not that there won’t likely be a few parts that you’d prefer to be otherwise.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “You wouldn’t want the report of an independent consultant to sound like you wrote it, would you? I will have recommendations for improvements. We consultants always do.”

  That was the important part of the conversation, although I had to go over a few things several times, and it was almost an hour later before the screen blanked.

  Then Aloris was in the office.

  “You forgot something.”

  “What?”

  “You never officially returned the Survey van.”

  I laughed ruefully. “I plead guilty. Do I need to go to the bay?”

  “I took care of it. I did want to remind you, though. Did you leave anything in it?”

  “Oh … yes. My equipment case. I’d thought I’d be going out again.”

  “I’ll have Dermotte make sure someone brings it here, if that’s all right.”

  “That’s fine.”

  Aloris looked at me, intently, but not critically. “The business with Rikova upset you a lot, didn’t it?”

  I nodded. Not quite for the reasons you think, I suspect. I still kept thinking about Kali and wondering what I could have done.

  “Some people don’t listen, and some don’t see.” She offered a fleeting smile. “You hear more than people realize, and you see far more. What will you say in your assessment?”

  “I’ll run it by you, Raasn, and Algeld before I finalize it.” I held up a hand. “That’s for factual accuracy, not for editorial comments.”

  “What about grammar?” Her smile held a hint of mischief.

  “I’ll listen to suggestions on grammar.”

  When she left I forced myself back to work. I knew the day was going to be long. Most days would be for a while.

  58

  I’d thought about going out to dinner when I finally shut down my console in the Survey Service office, but I couldn’t stand the thought of going out alone, and I certainly didn’t want to go out, only to have a Stittaran woman staring at me as if I were some sort of shiny treasure. So I slipped out of the Survey Service and walked quickly the short distance to my guest quarters. I was careful to make sure the door was secure behind me before I headed up the ramp to the study.

  I’d just started into the study, when someone spoke.

  “It took you long enough. You always work late, don’t you?” Standing by the armaglass window was a figure in a black security singlesuit, gray-eyed and black-haired. She offered a tired smile.

  I wanted to dash across the room and throw my arms around her. I didn’t. I just looked at her, my eyes burning. I swallowed. Finally, I managed to say, “You don’t know how … how glad … I am to see you.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I kept looking, praying that you’d listened to me. The days have been long.” Very long.

  “So have our days. We took out the magfield shuttle for a test flight on fiveday, over some of the badlands. We didn’t get back … until after it happened. Then we were pressed into service—asked, but it amounted to the same thing. By this morning, it was obvious we couldn’t do any more. The magfield shuttle now belongs to VLE, I understand, and I’m probably their employee as well … No one’s pushing.” She paused, her eyes still on me. “You look like you need something to drink. There are some Zantos in the cooler. I’ve already had a few.”

  “How did you get in?”

  “Your security is third-rate. By design, I imagine. We security types know a few things. I let myself in. I hoped you wouldn’t mind.”

  “Not at all.”

  “Get that Zantos. You need it.”

  She was probably right. I went to the study cooler and extracted a sealed beaker.

  By the time I had it open, Kali had seated herself in one of the two swivels. I took the other, facing her, and looked at her. Even exhausted, she was striking.

  Her lips quirked, self-consciously, I thought.

  “Why did you listen to me? I thought you wouldn’t. You were so cold.”

  “I’ve never seen someone so desperate, or who made such an effort. You’re not the type for that.”

  I shook my head. “For some people…”

  “Stop. You asked. I’m talking.”

  I stopped.

  Abruptly she smiled, but only for an instant. “Marcel—the pilot—thought I was crazy, but I said we needed to take a quick look at the badlands. I had him log it as a test and observation flight. We were barely there when the entire west turned so bright that we couldn’t see. The high-res sensors burned out. When we could see … RDAEX … Rikova … they … were … just … just like the badlands.”

  “I’m sorry. I tried to get Edo not to run the project. He wouldn’t listen. He said … I was a fifth-rate engineer.”

  Kali nodded, then took a swallow of the beaker. “He didn’t like to listen.”

  I didn’t wan
t to talk about that. “Why were you in my guest quarters at RDAEX? Honestly?”

  “Edo ordered me to keep you absolutely safe while you were in Rikova.”

  “He was worried I’d be killed there, and that would lead to an investigation?”

  “He didn’t give specifics. He just said that it would be very bad if anything happened to you. I’ve come to the same conclusion.” She looked down for a moment, before she added, “For different reasons. What are you going to do?”

  I could sense the tension, and the last thing I wanted to do was to push. So I said, “Finish my assignment. I’ll need to be careful, but the report will indicate that Stittara is currently in a very delicate, but balanced position, and that any major change in either its ecological or economic structures would result in very adverse conditions, including the loss of all future anagathic developments and improvements, and that the recent localized disaster is proof of that, and why any new and sustained multi development is unwise.

  “There will be a section commending the Planetary Council for its recent action in bifurcating local control and ceding all control of the outland communities to their coordinating council…” Not that they’ve agreed to that yet, but they will.

  “… and there will be another section commending the local Survey Service for working with the Planetary Council to ban any future attempts at magnetic field manipulations as a result of the tragedy at Rikova…”

  “I’m assuming you’ll make sure your report is delivered to so many places that it can’t be muffled or hidden.”

  “That was my intent, but I could use your help in that. I’m not terribly versed in such matters.”