IX
The guard inside the front entrance of the Foundation building jumped atthe thunderous noise and reached for his gun. He dropped his handsheepishly when he realized it was only a sneeze--though a gargantuanone. Brion came up, sniffling, huddling down into his coat. "I'm goingout before I catch pneumonia," he said. The guard saluted dumbly andafter checking his proximity detector screens he turned off the lightand opened the door. Brion slipped out and the heavy portal thudded shutbehind him. The street was still warm from the heat of the day and hesighed happily and opened his coat.
This was partially a reconnaissance trip--and partly to get warmed up.There was little else he could do in the building, the staff had longsince retired. He had slept himself, for half an hour, and now wasrefreshed and ready to work. All of the reports he could understand hadbeen read and reread until they were memorized. He could use the timenow, while the rest of them were asleep, to get better acquainted withthe main city of Dis.
As he walked the dark streets he realized how alien the Disan way oflife was to everything he knew. This city--Hovedstad--literally meant"main place" in the native language. And that's all it was. It was onlythe presence of the offworlders that made it into a city. Building afterbuilding, standing deserted, bore the names of mining companies,traders, space transporters. None of them were occupied now. Some stillhad lights burning, switched on by automatic apparatus, others were asdark as the Disan structures. There weren't many of these nativeconstructions and they seemed out of place among the rammed earth andprefab offworld buildings. Brion examined one that was dimly illuminedby the light on the corner of VEGAN SMELTERS, LTD.
It consisted of a single large room, resting flat on the ground. Therewere no windows and the whole thing appeared to have been constructed ofsome sort of woven material plastered with stone-hard mud. There wasnothing blocking the door and he was thinking seriously of going in whenhe became aware that he was being followed.
It was only a slight noise, almost lost in the night. Normally it wouldnever have been noticed, but tonight Brion was listening with his entirebody. Someone was behind him, swallowed up in the pools of darkness.Brion shrank back against the wall. There was very little chance thiscould be anyone but a Disan. He had a sudden memory of Mervv's severedhead as it had been discovered outside the door.
Ihjel had helped him train his empathetic sense and he reached out withit. It was difficult working in the dark, he could be sure of nothing.Was he getting a reaction--or just wishing for one? Why did it have aring of familiarity to it. A sudden idea struck him.
"Ulv," he said, very softly. "This is Brion." He crouched, ready for anyattack.
"I know," a voice said softly in the night. "Do not talk. Walk in thedirection you were going before."
Asking questions now would accomplish nothing. Brion turned instantlyand did as he was bidden. The buildings grew farther apart until herealized from the sand underfoot that he was back in the planet-widedesert. It could be a trap--he hadn't recognized the voice behind thewhisper--yet he still had to take this chance. A darker shape appearedin the dark night near him, and a burning hot hand touched his armlightly.
"We can talk here." The words were louder and this time Brion recognizedthe voice. "I have brought you to the city as I told you I would. Haveyou done as you said you would?"
"I am doing it--but I need your help, Ulv. It is your life that needssaving and you must do your part--"
"What is truth?" Ulv interrupted. "All I hear is difference. The magterhave done well though they live the wrong way. I myself have had bronzefrom them and there is water just for going. Now they tell us they aregetting a different world for us all from the sky people and that isgood, too. Your people are the essence of evil and there is no harm inkilling them."
"Why didn't you kill me when you had the chance?"
"I could have. But there is something more important. What is truth?What is on the papers that fall from the sky?" He sighed once, deeply."There are black marks on them that some can tell meaning from. What didthe ship voices mean when they said the magter were destroying the worldand must be put down? I did not hear the voices, but I know one who didand he went to talk to Lig-magte which was foolish, because he waskilled as he should have known he would be."
"The ships were telling you the truth, Ulv. The magter have bombs thatwill destroy Nyjord--the next planet--there." He pointed to the starnewly rising in the east. "The bombs cannot be stopped. Unless the bombsare found or the magter drop their suicidal plans, this planet willburst into flames in three days time."
Ulv turned and started away. Brion called after him. "Wait. Will youhelp me stop this? How can I find you again?"
"I must think," the Disan answered still moving away. "I will find you."
He was gone. Brion shivered in the sudden chill of the air, and wrappedthe coat tighter around him. He started walking back towards the warmerstreets of the city.
* * * * *
It was dawn when he reached the Foundation building; a new guard was atthe front entrance. No amount of hammering or threats could convince theman to open until Faussel came down, yawning and blinking with sleep. Hewas starting some complaint when Brion cut him off curtly and orderedhim to finish dressing and report for work at once. Still feeling elatedhe steamed into his office and cursed the overly-efficient character whohad turned on his air conditioner to chill the room again. When heturned it off this time he removed enough of the vital parts to keep itout of order for the duration.
When Faussel came in he was still yawning behind his fist. Obviously alow morning-sugar type. "Before you fall on your face, go out and getsome coffee," Brion said. "Two cups. I'll have a cup, too."
"That won't be necessary," Faussel said, drawing himself up stiffly."I'll call the canteen if you wish some." He said it in the iciest tonehe could manage this early in the morning.
In his enthusiasm Brion had forgotten the hate campaign he had directedagainst himself. "Suit yourself," he snapped, getting back into therole. "But the next time you yawn there'll be a negative entry in yourservice record. If that's clear--you can brief me on this organization'svisible relations with the Disans. How do they take us?"
Faussel choked and swallowed a yawn. "I believe they look on the C.R.Fpeople as some species of simpleton, sir. They hate all offworlders,memory of their desertion has been passed on verbally for generations.So by their one-to-one logic we should either hate back or go away. Westay instead. And give them food, water, medicine and artifacts. Becauseof this they let us remain on sufferance. I imagine they consider usdo-gooder idiots, and, as long as we cause no trouble, they'll let usstay." He was struggling miserably to suppress a yawn, so Brion turnedhis back and gave him a chance to get it out.
"What about the Nyjorders? How much do they know of our work?" Brionlooked out the window at dusty buildings, outlined in purple against theviolent colors of the desert sunrise.
"Nyjord is a co-operating planet, and has full knowledge at allexecutive levels. They are giving us all the aid they can."
"Well now is the time to ask for more. Can I contact the commander ofthe blockading fleet?"
"There is a scrambler connection right through to him. I'll set it up."Faussel bent over the desk and punched a number into the phone controls.The screen flowed with the black and white patterns of the scrambler.
"That's all, Faussel. I want privacy for this talk. What's thecommander's name?"
"Professor Krafft, he's a physicist. They have no military men at all,so they called him in for the construction of the bombs and energyweapons. He's still in charge." Faussel yawned extravagantly as he wentout the door.
The professor-commander was very old, with wispy gray hair and a networkof wrinkles surrounding his eyes. His image shimmered then cleared asthe scrambler units aligned.
"You must be Brion Brandd," he said. "I have to tell you how sorry weall are that your friend Ihjel--and the two others--had to die. Aftercoming so far t
o help us. I'm sure you are very happy to have had afriend like that."
"Why ... yes, of course," Brion said, reaching for the scatteredfragments of his thought processes. It took an effort to remember thefirst conflict now that he was worrying about the death of a planet."Very kind of you to mention it. But I would like to find out a fewthings about you, if I could."
"Anything at all, we are at your disposal. Before we begin though, Ishall pass on the thanks of our council for your aid in joining us. Evenif we are eventually forced to drop the bombs, we shall never forgetthat your organization did everything possible to avert the disaster."
Once again Brion was caught off balance. For an instant he wondered ifKrafft was being insincere, then recognized the baseness of thisthought. The completeness of the man's humanity was obvious andcompelling. The thought passed through Brion's mind that now he had anadditional reason for wanting the war ended without destruction oneither side. He very much wanted to visit Nyjord and see these people ontheir home grounds.
* * * * *
Professor Krafft waited, patiently and silently, while Brion pulled histhoughts together and answered. "I still hope that this thing can bestopped in time. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I want tosee Lig-magte and I thought it would be better if I had a legitimatereason. Are you in contact with him?"
Krafft shook his head. "No, not really in contact. When this troublestarted I sent him a transceiver so we could talk directly. But he hasdelivered his ultimatum, speaking for the _magter_. The only terms hewill hear are unconditional surrender. His receiver is on but he hassaid that is the only message he will answer."
"Not much chance of him ever being told that," Brion said.
"There was--at one time. I hope you realize Brion that the decision tobomb Dis was not easily arrived at. A great many people--myselfincluded--voted for unconditional surrender. We lost the vote by a verysmall margin."
Brion was getting used to these philosophical body blows and he rolledwith the punches now. "Are there any of your people left on this planet?Or do you have any troops I can call on for help? This is still a remotepossibility, but, if I do find out where the bombs or the launcher are,a surprise raid would knock them out."
"We have no people left in Hovedstad now--all the ones who weren'tevacuated were killed. But there are commando teams standing by here tomake a landing if the weapons are detected. The Disans must depend onsecrecy to protect their armament since we have both the manpower andthe technology to reach any objective. We also have technicians andother volunteers looking for the weapon sites. They have not beensuccessful as yet, and most of them were killed soon after landing."Krafft hesitated for a moment. "There is another group that you shouldknow about, you will need all the factors. There are some of our peoplein the desert outside of Hovedstad. We do not officially approve ofthem, though they have a good deal of popular support. Mostly young men,operating as raiders, killing and destroying with very littlecompunction. They are attempting to uncover the weapons by sheerstrength of arms."
This was the best news yet. Brion controlled his voice and kept hisexpression calm when he spoke. "I don't know how far I can stretch yourco-operation--but could you possibly tell me how to contact them?"
Krafft allowed himself a small smile. "I'll give you the wave length onwhich you can reach their radio. They call themselves the 'Nyjord Army.'When you talk to them you can do me a favor. Pass on a message. Just toprove things aren't bad enough--they've become a little worse. One ofour technical crews has detected jump-space energy transmissions in theplanetary crust. The Disans are apparently testing their projector,sooner than we had estimated. Our deadline has been revised by one day.I'm afraid there are only two days left before you must evacuate." Hiseyes were large with compassion. "I'm sorry. I know this will make yourjob that much harder."
Brion didn't want to think about the loss of a full day from his alreadysmall deadline. "Have you told the Disans this as yet?"
"No," Krafft told him. "The decision was reached just a few minutesbefore your call. It is going on the radio to Lig-magte now."
"Can you cancel the transmission and let me take the message in person?"
"I can do that," Krafft thought for a moment, "but it would surely meanyour death at their hands. They have no hesitation in killing any of ourpeople. I would prefer to send it by radio."
"If you do that, you will be interfering with my plans, and perhapsdestroying them under the guise of saving my life. Isn't my life myown--to dispose of as I will?"
For the first time, Professor Krafft was upset. "I'm sorry, terriblysorry. I'm letting my concerns and worry wash over into my publicaffairs. Of course you may do as you please. I could never think ofstopping you." He turned and said something inaudible offscreen. "Thecall is cancelled. The responsibility is yours. All our wishes forsuccess go with you. End of transmission."
"End of transmission," Brion said, and the screen went dark.
"Faussel!" he shouted into the intercom. "Get me the best and fastestsandcar we have, a driver who knows his way around and two men, who canhandle a gun and know how to take orders. We're going to get somepositive action at last."
Sense of Obligation Page 9
