Sense of Obligation

by Harry Harrison

  XV

  Brion hurled himself backward and sprawled flat in the dust and filthof the road. No poison dart sought him out, the empty silence stillreigned. Telt's murderers had come and gone. Moving quickly, using thebulk of the car as a shield, he opened the door and slipped inside.

  They had done a thorough job of destruction. All of the controls hadbeen battered into uselessness, the floor was a junk heap of crushedequipment, intertwined with loops of recording tape bulging likemechanical intestines. A gutted machine, destroyed like its driver.

  It was easy enough to reconstruct what had happened. The car had beenseen when they entered the city--probably by some of the magter who haddestroyed the Foundation building. They had not seen where it had gone,or Brion would surely be dead by now. But they must have spotted it whenTelt tried to leave the city. And stopped it in the most effective waypossible, a dart through the open window into the unsuspecting driver'sneck.

  Telt dead. The brutal impact of the man's death had driven all thoughtof its consequences from Brion's mind. Now he began to realize. Telt hadnever sent word of his discovery of the radioactive trace to the Nyjordarmy. He had been afraid to use the radio, and had wanted to tell Hys inperson, and to show him the tape. Only now the tape was torn and mixedwith all the others, the brain that could have analyzed it dead.

  Brion looked at the dangling entrails of the radio and spun for thedoor. Running swiftly and erratically he fled from the sandcar. His ownsurvival and the possible survival of Dis depended on his not being seennear it. He must contact Hys and pass on the information. Until he didthat he was the only offworlder on Dis who knew which magter tower mightcontain the world-destroying bombs.

  Once out of sight of the sandcar he went slower, wiping the sweat fromhis streaming face. He hadn't been seen leaving the car, and he wasn'tbeing followed. The streets here weren't familiar, but he checked hisdirection by the sun and walked at a steady fast pace towards thedestroyed building. More of the native Disans were in the streets now.They all noticed him, some even stopped and scowled fiercely. With hisempathic awareness he felt their anger and hatred. A knot of menradiated death and he put his hand on his gun as he passed them. Two ofthem had their blowguns ready, but didn't use them. By the time he hadturned the next corner he was soaked with nervous perspiration.

  Ahead was the rubble of the destroyed building. Grounded next to it wasthe tapered form of a spacer's pinnace. Two men had come from the openlock and were standing at the edge of the burnt area.

  * * * * *

  Brion's boots grated loudly on the broken wreckage. The men turnedquickly towards him, guns raised. Both of them carried ion-rifles. Theyrelaxed when they saw his offworld clothes.

  "Savages," one of them growled. He was a heavyplanet man, a squasheddown column of muscle and gristle, whose head barely reached Brion'schest. A pushed-back cap had the crossed-sliderule symbol of ship'scomputer man.

  "Can't blame them, I guess," the second man said. He wore purser'sinsignia. His features were different, but with the same compacted bodythey were as physically alike as twins. Probably from the same homeplanet. "They gonna get their whole world blown from under them atmidnight. Looks like the poor slob in the streets finally realized whatis happening. Hope we're in jump-space by then. I saw Estrada's Worldget it and I don't want to see that again, not twice in one lifetime!"

  The computer man was looking closely at Brion, head tilted sideways tosee his face. "You need transportation offworld?" he asked. "We're thelast ship at the port, and we're going to boil out of here as soon asthe rest of our cargo is aboard. Give you a lift if you need it."

  Only by a tremendous effort at control did Brion conceal the destroyingsorrow that overwhelmed him when he looked at that shattered wasteland,the graveyard of so many. "No," he said. "That won't be necessary. I'min touch with the blockading fleet and they'll pick me up beforemidnight."

  "You from Nyjord?" the purser growled.

  "No," Brion said, still only half aware of the men. "But there istrouble with my own ship." He realized that they were looking intentlyat him, that he owed them some kind of explanation. "I thought I couldfind a way to stop the war. Now ... I'm not so sure." He hadn't intendedto be so frank with the spacemen, but the words had been topmost in histhoughts and had simply slipped out.

  The computer man started to say something, but his shipmate speared himin the side with his elbow. "We blast soon--and I don't like the waythese Disans are looking at us. Captain said to find out what caused thefire, then get back. So let's go."

  "Don't miss your ship," the computer man said to Brion and started forthe pinnace. Then he hesitated and turned. "Sure there's nothing we cando for you."

  Sorrow would accomplish nothing. Brion fought to sweep the dregs ofemotion from his mind and to think clearly. "You can help me," he said."I could use a scalpel or any other surgical instruments you mighthave." Lea would need those. Then he remembered Telt's undeliveredmessage. "Do you have a portable radio transceiver--I can pay you forit."

  The computer man vanished inside the rocket and reappeared a minutelater with a small package. "There's a scalpel and a magnetized tweezersin here, all I could find in the medkit. Hope they'll do." He reachedinside and swung out the metal case of a self-contained transceiver."Take this, it's got plenty of range, even on the longer frequencies."He raised his hand at Brion's offer to pay. "My donation," he said. "Ifyou can save this planet, I'll give you the whole pinnace as well. We'lltell the captain we lost the radio in some trouble with the natives.Isn't that right, Moneybags?" He prodded the purser in the chest with afinger that would have punched a hole in a weaker man.

  "I read you loud and clear," the purser said. "I'll make out an invoiceso stating, back in the ship." They were both in the pinnace then, andBrion had to move fast to get clear of the take-off blast.

  * * * * *

  Sense of obligation, the spacemen had felt it too. The realization ofthis raised Brion's spirits a bit as he searched through the rubble foranything useful. He recognized part of a wall still standing as a cornerof the laboratory. Poking through the ruins he unearthed brokeninstruments and a single, battered case that had barely misseddestruction. Inside was the binocular microscope, the right tube bent,its lenses cracked and obscured. The left eyepiece still seemed to befunctioning. Brion carefully put it back in the case. He looked at hiswatch.

  It was almost noon. These few pieces of equipment would have to do forthe dissection. Watched suspiciously by the onlooking Disans, he startedback to the warehouse. It was a long, circuitous walk, since he didn'tdare give any clues to his destination. Only when he was positive he hadnot been observed or followed did he slip through the building'sentrance, locking it behind him.

  Lea's frightened eyes met his when he went into the office. "A friendlysmile here among the cannibals," she called. Her strained expressiongave the lie to the cheeriness of her words. "What has happened? Since Iwoke up, the great stone face over there," she pointed to Ulv, "has beentelling me exactly nothing."

  "What's the last thing you can remember?" Brion asked carefully. Hedidn't want to tell her too much, less this bring on the shock again.Ulv had shown great presence of mind in not talking to her.

  "If you must know," Lea said, "I remember quite a lot, Brion Brandd. Ishan't go into details, since this sort of thing is best kept from thenatives. For the record then, I can recall going to sleep after youleft. And nothing since then. It's weird. I went to sleep in that lumpyhospital bed and woke up on this couch. Feeling simply terrible. With_him_ just simply sitting there and scowling at me. Won't you pleasetell me what is going on?"

  A partial truth was best, saving all of the details that he could forlater. "The magter attacked the Foundation building," he said. "They aregetting angry at all offworlders now. You were still knocked out by asleeping drug, so Ulv helped bring you here. It's afternoon now--"

  "Of the last day?" She sounded horrified. "While I'm
playing sleepingbeauty the world is coming to an end. Was anyone hurt in the attack? Orkilled?"

  "There were a number of casualties--and plenty of trouble," Brion said.He had to get her off the subject. Walking over to the corpse he threwback the cover from its face. "But this is more important right now.It's one of the magter. I have a scalpel and some other thingshere--will you perform an autopsy?"

  Lea huddled back on the couch, her arms around herself, looking chilledin spite of the heat of the day. "What happened to the people at thebuilding?" she asked in a thin voice. The injection had removed hermemories of the tragedy, but echoes of the strain and shock stillreverberated in her mind and body. "I feel so ... exhausted. Please tellme what happened. I have the feeling you're hiding something."

  Brion sat next to her and took her hands in his, not surprised to findthem cold. Looking into her eyes he tried to give her some of hisstrength. "It wasn't very nice," he said. "You were shaken up by it, Iimagine that's why you feel the way you do now. But--Lea, you'll have totake my word for this. Don't ask any more questions. There's nothing wecan do now about it. But we can still find out about the magter. Willyou examine the corpse?"

  She tried to ask something, then changed her mind. When she dropped hereyes Brion felt the thin shiver that went through her body. "There'ssomething terribly wrong," she said. "I know that. I guess I'll have totake your word that it's best not to ask questions. Help me up, willyou, darling? My legs are absolutely liquid."

  Leaning on him, with his arm around her supporting most of her weight,she went slowly across to the corpse. She looked down and shuddered."Not what you would call a natural death," she said. Ulv watchedintently as she took the scalpel out of its holder. "You don't have tolook at this," she told him in halting Disan. "Not if you don't wantto."

  "I want to," he told her, not taking his eyes from the body. "I havenever seen a magter dead before, or without covering, like ordinarypeople." He continued to stare fixedly.

  "Find me some drinking water, will you Brion," Lea said. "And spread thetarp under the body. These things are quite messy."

  * * * * *

  After drinking the water she seemed stronger, and could stand withoutholding onto the table with both hands. Placing the tip of the scalpeljust below the magter's breast bone, she made the long continuouspost-mortem incision down to the pubic symphysis. The great, body-lengthwound gaped open like a red mouth. Across the table Ulv shuddered butdidn't avert his eyes.

  One by one she dissected the internal organs and removed them. Once shelooked up at Brion, then quickly returned to work. The silence stretchedon and on until Brion had to break it.

  "Tell me, can't you. Have you found out anything?"

  His words snapped the thin strand of her strength, and she staggeredback to the couch and collapsed on to it. Her blood-stained hands hungover the side, making a strangely terrible contrast to the whiteness ofher skin.

  "I'm sorry, Brion," she said. "But there's nothing, nothing at all.There are minor differences, organic changes I've never seen before--hisliver is tremendous for one thing. But changes like this are certainlyconsistent within the pattern of Homo sapiens as adopted to a differentplanet. He's a man. Changed, adopted, modified--but still just as humanas you or I."

  "How can you be sure?" Brion broke in. "You haven't examined himcompletely, have you?" She shook her head now. "Then go on. The otherorgans. His brain. A microscopic examination. Here!" he said, pushingthe microscope case towards her with both hands.

  She dropped her head onto her forearms and sobbed. "Leave me alone,can't you! I'm tired and sick and fed up with this awful planet. Letthem die. I don't care! Your theory is false, useless. Admit that! Andlet me wash the filth from my hands--" Sobbing drowned out her words.

  Brion stood over her and drew in a shuddering breath. Was he wrong? Hedidn't dare think about that. He had to go on. Looking down at thethinness of her bent back, with the tiny projections of her spinepushing through the thin cloth, he felt an immense pity--a pity hecouldn't surrender to. This thin, helpless, frightened woman was hisonly resource. She had to work. He had to _make_ her work.

  Ihjel had done it. Used projective empathy to impress his emotions uponBrion. Now Brion must do it with Lea. There had been some sessions inthe art, but not nearly enough to make him proficient. Nevertheless hehad to try.

  Strength was what Lea needed. Aloud he said simply "You can do it. Youhave the will and the strength to finish." And silently his mind criedout the order to obey, to share his power now that hers was drained andfinished.

  Only when she lifted her face and he saw the dried tears did he realizethat he had succeeded. "You will go on?" he asked simply.

  Lea merely nodded and rose to her feet. She shuffled like asleep-walker, jerked along by invisible strings. Her strength wasn't herown and it reminded him unhappily of that last event of the Twentieswhen he had experienced the same kind of draining activity. Wiping herhands roughly on her clothes she opened the microscope case.

  "The slides are all broken," she said.

  "This will do," Brion told her, crashing his heel through the glasspartition. Shards tinkled and crashed to the floor. He took some of thebigger pieces and broke them to rough squares that would fit under theclips on the stage. Lea accepted them without a word. Putting a drop ofthe magter's blood on the slide she bent over the eyepiece.

  * * * * *

  Her hands shook when she tried to adjust the focusing. Using low powershe examined the specimen, squinting through the angled tube. Once sheturned the substage mirror a bit to catch direct the light streaming inthe window. Brion stood behind her, fists clenched, forcefullycontrolling his anxiety. "What do you see?" he finally blurted out.

  "Phagocytes, platelets ... leucocytes ... everything seems normal." Hervoice was dull, exhausted, her eyes blinking with fatigue as she staredinto the tube.

  Anger at defeat burned through Brion. Even faced with failure he refusedto accept it. He reached over her shoulder and savagely twisted theturret of microscope until the longest lens was in position. "If youcan't see anything--try the high power! It's there--I know it's there!I'll get you a tissue specimen." He turned back to the disemboweledcadaver.

  His back was turned and he did not see the sudden stiffening of hershoulders, or the sudden eagerness that seized her fingers as theyadjusted the focus. But he did feel the wave of emotion that welled fromher, impinging directly on his empathic sense. "What is it?" he calledto her, as if she had spoken aloud.

  "Something ... something here," she said, "in this leucocyte. It's not anormal structure, but it's familiar. I've seen something like it before,but I just can't remember." She turned away from the scope andunthinkingly pressed her gory knuckles to her forehead. "I know I'veseen it before."

  Brion squinted into the deserted microscope and made out a dim shape inthe center of the field. It stood out sharply when he focused--thewhite, jellyfish shape of a single-celled leucocyte. To his untrainedeye there was nothing unusual about it. He couldn't know what wasstrange--when he had no idea of what was normal.

  "Do you see those spherical green shapes grouped together?" Lea asked.Before Brion could answer she gasped "I remember now!" Her fatigue wasforgotten in her excitement. "_Icerya purchasi_ that was the name,something like that. It's a coccid, a little scale insect. It had thosesame shapes collected together within its individual cells."

  "What do they mean? What is the connection with Dis?"

  "I don't know," she said, "it's just that they look so similar. And Inever saw anything like this in a human cell before. In the coccids, thegreen particles grow into a kind of yeast that lives within the insect.Not a parasite, but a real symbiote--"

  Her eyes opened wide as she caught the significance of her own words. Asymbiote--and Dis was the world where symbiosis and parasitism hadbecome more advanced and complex than on any other planet. Lea'sthoughts spun around this fact and chewed at the fringes of the logic
.Brion could sense her concentration and absorption. He did nothing tobreak the mood. Her hands were clenched into fists, her eyes staringunseeingly at the wall as her mind raced.

  * * * * *

  Brion and Ulv sat quietly, watching her, waiting for her conclusions.The pieces were falling into shape at last.

  Lea opened her clenched fists and smoothed them on her sodden skirt. Sheblinked and turned until she saw Brion. "Is there a tool box here?" sheasked.

  Her words were so unexpected that it took Brion a moment to answer.Before he could say anything she spoke again.

  "No hand tools, it would take too long. Could you find anything like apower saw--that would be ideal?" She turned back to the microscope, sohe didn't have any opportunity to question her. Ulv was still looking atthe body of the magter and had understood nothing of what they had said.Brion went out into the loading bay.

  There was nothing he could use on the ground floor, so he took thestairs to the floor above. A corridor here passed by a number of rooms.All of the doors were locked, including one with the hopeful sign TOOLROOM on it. He battered at the metal door with his shoulder withoutbudging it. As he stopped to look for a way in he glanced at his watch.

  Two o'clock! In ten hours the bombs would fall on Dis.

  The need for haste tore at him. Yet there could be no noise--someone inthe street might hear it. He quickly stripped off his shirt and wrappedit in a loose roll around the barrel of his gun, extending it in a loosetube in front of the barrel. Holding the rolled cloth in his left hand,he jammed the gun up tight against the door, the muzzle against thelock. The single shot was only a dull thud, inaudible outside of thebuilding. Pieces of broken mechanism jarred and rattled inside the lockand the door swung open.

  Lea was standing by the body when he came back, holding up the smallpower saw with a rotary blade. "Will this do?" he asked. "Runs off itsown battery, almost fully charged, too."

  "Perfect," she answered. "You're both going to have to help me." Sheswitched into the Disan language. "Ulv, would you find some place whereyou can watch the street without being seen. Signal me when it is empty.I'm afraid this saw is going to make a lot of noise."

  Ulv nodded and went out into the bay, climbing a heap of empty crates sohe could peer through the small windows set high in the wall. He lookedcarefully in both directions, then waved to her to go ahead.

  "Stand to one side and hold the cadaver's chin, Brion," she said. "Holdit firmly so the head doesn't shake around when I cut. This is going tobe a little gruesome. I'm sorry. But it'll be the fastest way to cutthe bone." The saw bit into the skull.

  Once Ulv waved them into silence, and shrank back himself into theshadows next to the window. They waited impatiently until he gave them asign to continue again. Brion held steady while the saw cut a circlecompletely around the skull.

  "Finished," Lea said and the saw dropped from her limp fingers to thefloor. She massaged life back into her hands before she finished thejob. Carefully and delicately she removed the cap of bone from themagter's head, exposing his brain to the shaft of light from the window.

  "You were right all the time, Brion," she said. "There is your alien."