Raiders from the Rings

by Alan Edward Nourse

  Instead, he had brought with him two of the enemy the city had been learning to hate so deeply, and he brought them not as prisoners but as friends and envoys, insisting that diplomatic courtesy be shown them.

  But the Spacers in Asteroid Central were in no temper for diplomacy. Already the strain of the blockade was showing on their faces. The enormous size and power of the invading fleet from Earth had caught Central unprepared. Even the Spacer Council had been staggered, and now the people of the city were beaten to quarters, beleaguered in their last stronghold. Faces were haggard and eyes worried; voices were guarded, and throughout the city the unspoken questions hovered in everyone’s mind: How long can we hold out? How can we bring an end to the siege, and what will happen if we fail to break it?

  As they waited for the commander-in-chief to appear, Ben fought down a wave of hopelessness. At the worst he had hoped that his own people would accept his friends at face value, at least be willing to listen. Somewhere a beginning had to be made. Asteroid Central could not survive an endless period of siege. Even if there were food and water enough for years, and some way of fighting down the tension of perpetually waiting without any way of fighting back, every new day brought the threat that one of the blockading ships would find a way through the Maze with a cargo of hydrogen warheads in its hold.

  And even if the Spacer fleet outside were to attack Earth itself and thus draw away the blockading ships, the Spacers would ultimately lose. Spurred on by anger and vengefulness, there would be no way for the Spacers to control their attack. It would be easy—too easy—to inadvertently smash all life on the planet surface, with radioactive fallout ultimately whittling away the last remains when the attacking ships had gone. With the genetic flaw the Spacers carried, and without maukis to raise their children, even a victorious Spacer clan would presently die, their victory falling into ashes. At the very best, they could hope only for a few survivors, a human race driven back to savagery and forced to begin again the long climb upward.

  These were the prospects, if the Searchers’ message could not be broadcast in time. This was the price of ignorance and fear. A great deal was clear to Ben Trefon now that he had never suspected when he joined his raiding party just a few short days before. He knew now that the Earthmen’s fear of Spacers was based on superstition and myth. He also knew now that his own people’s beliefs about Earthmen were distorted by falsehood, distrust and fear. Yet his own contact during the past few days with Tom and Joyce Barron had demonstrated beyond doubt that Earthmen and Spacers were creatures of the same race, human beings with intelligence and resourcefulness and the potential for maturity that the Searchers had been seeking for so long.

  If Earthmen and Spacers could reach out for maturity and leave their childish war behind, there would be nothing to stop human beings from expanding outward to join civilizations beyond the stars. Ben Trefon and the Barrons had proven that it could be done.

  But their knowledge was useless unless men on both sides could be made to understand and believe them. And it seemed that even Ben’s own people were not willing to listen.

  Across the room a door burst open and the commander-in-chief stalked in from the Council chambers.

  He was a tall, white-haired man. His hands were calloused, and his brown fatigue shirt was open at the neck. His worn dungarees were smeared with grease, but his crude appearance could not disguise the air of dignity and command he carried about him. Ben Trefon could sense the same suppressed power and strength in this man that he had so often sensed in his father, and the blunt honesty in the commander’s pale blue eyes was reassuring.

  Ignoring the Barrons, the commander clasped Ben’s hand warmly. “Welcome home,” he said. “We’d almost lost hope of seeing you again.” He noticed Ben wince as he moved his injured shoulder. “As soon as we’ve got things straightened out here, we’ll get you up for X-rays and find out why that shoulder is still bothering you.”

  “The shoulder’s fine,” Ben lied. “There won’t be time for X-rays. There are more important things to do.”

  The commander regarded him keenly. “You’ve done quite a bit already, in case you don’t know it.

  You accomplished the next thing to a miracle when you ran that blockade.” Ben looked at him. “I had some extraordinary help,” he said.

  For the first time the commander glanced at Tom and Joyce. “You also have an extraordinary cargo.

  Your prisoners present an unpleasant problem. It’s unfortunate you brought them in. Our food supplies are already low and dwindling fast. We simply can’t afford to feed prisoners of war.”

  “These are not prisoners,” Ben said. “They’re friends.”

  “I understood that they were impounded on Earth during the raid.”

  “They were. But since then they have become friends, and should be treated as such. If necessary I’ll demand it as my right of booty.”

  There were tired lines on the commander’s face, and an expression of infinite weariness. “My son, we are in a desperate war, and we cannot honor individual demands.” He stabbed a finger at the Barrons.

  “The forces these people represent are doing their utmost to choke us to death, and unless we are more fortunate than we appear to be at the moment, they have good odds of succeeding.” He shook his head and turned away. “I’m sorry, but your demand is refused. You do your people a dishonor consorting with enemy aliens in times like these.”

  “As a Spacer,” Ben said doggedly, “I have a right to a hearing before judgment is passed.” Anger flared in the commander’s eyes. “Right? What right? Who are you to be demanding rights at this time? What do you know about this pair? How do you know they aren’t spies, deliberately sent to penetrate this fortress? Friendship, indeed! I will not permit my forces here to be contaminated by contact with a pair of Earth-born snakes, nor with you either, if you’ve been contaminated.” There was a long silence in the little room. Then Ben said, “My father died on Mars. I saw our house after the Earth ships had gone. I saw the houses of my friends there. Do you really think that I’ve been contaminated?”

  The commander glared at him for a long moment. Then he sighed and sank down in a chair behind the desk, covering his eyes with his hands in a gesture of weariness. “I’m sorry,” he said at length. “The strain has been great, and anger comes too easily. No, I do not really doubt you. I honored your father above all others when he was alive. I grieve for him and honor him in death, and I honor his son as well. But I simply can’t understand you. A third of your people are scattered to the four winds, unable to contact us even by radio. And here your people are reaching the breaking point. If I speak in anger, it is simply because I cannot comprehend the presence of these prisoners under your protection.”

  “Then let me tell you,” Ben said. “In the first place, you are wrong about those outside. You have a fleet armed and ready to launch an attack on Earth itself in hopes of breaking this siege. In the absence of countermanding orders from you, they will move in toward Earth in a matter of hours.” The commander leaped up and gripped Ben’s arm. “Is this true?” he cried. “They have enough ships, enough arms? They have leadership?”

  Ben nodded. “They are well organized, and Tommy Whisk is in command.”

  “Ah, Tommy! Good, good! But what are they waiting for?”

  “They’ve given me time to reach you and bring word out to them,” Ben said. “And if you allow them to launch that attack, we will have lost everything worth fighting for. They must not be allowed to go.” The commander stared at him. “But why not?”

  “Because there is a way to peace,” Ben said. “That is what we have come to tell you, if only you will listen.”

  “You mean another way to beat them and break the siege?”

  “I mean an end to the war for Earthman and Spacer alike. Whether it can come about or not depends upon you and upon the commander of the blockading fleet. But most of all, it depends upon a mauki.” The woman was tall and straight, with flowing
dark hair and eyes that seemed able to see things that the average human eyes failed to see. At Ben Trefon’s insistence she had been summoned from her post at a radar station on the surface of the asteroid city; now she greeted Ben with a questioning smile, and gravely acknowledged the two Earthlings without a word.

  “They say they have something to tell us,” the commander said angrily, pacing the room for control.

  “They say it can end the war, and that somehow it involves you. Perhaps you can convince them that words will not break this blockade, nor suddenly change the hearts of the ones who attack us.” The mauki said nothing. She merely looked from Ben to the Barrons and back, and waited. She was not young, Ben thought, but her face was very beautiful; now it held no expression, as if she had suddenly drawn a veil to conceal her thoughts. It was a strange face, not exactly hostile, yet not sympathetic either. For some reason he could not fathom, it made Ben Trefon uneasy to look at her, and he turned away to avoid meeting her eyes.

  He had never met the woman before, but he knew her history, and he knew the regard with which she was held among all Spacers. She had long been a leader here, with a place of honor on the Council, and her wisdom had served the Spacers well, even if it sometimes seemed remote from the problems at hand.

  Perhaps it was that very remoteness that had always made Spacers stop and listen when she sang.

  Her story was well known. Years before she had joined the ranks of the Spacers and borne her husband a son. When the child was five, the father was killed in a mining accident in the Rings, and the woman and her son had gone out alone to the place the accident had happened. On the way their ship was halted by an Earth pirate, and the child had been killed. Yet when a Spacer ship made contact with the pirate and rescued her, the mauki would not permit the Earth ship to be destroyed.

  Exactly why she took such a stand no one ever really knew. Some said that she had lost her reason when the child was destroyed. Others insisted that the ship’s drive had been damaged beyond repair during the rescue, and the mauki wanted the Earth crew to suffer a lingering death adrift in space in a ship without power. But most often it was said that she had enchanted the entire crew with her singing, forced them to listen in spite of themselves, and then sent them home with a burden of guilt so overwhelming that they could speak of nothing else as long as they lived.

  Whatever the truth, Ben Trefon knew one thing: that this woman could sing. There was not a Spacer alive who had not heard her at one time or another, and her singing carried a power that was beyond words to describe. That was the reason he wanted her here.

  And now, with the help of Joyce and Tom Barron, he told her the entire story of the things that had happened since he had left his father on Mars on the eve of the raid. No detail was too small to include, for he knew that somehow the woman had to be made to understand. He told her of the aftermath of the raid, of the heartbreaking landing on Mars, of the ruin of his father’s house and the legacy he found waiting for him in the vault. He told her of the black web belt and the ancient tape recording, and then of the strange succession of events that had led to contact with the small gray people with the smoky-blue eyes.

  The mauki listened without comment, and the commander, almost in spite of himself, listened too. Ben described the visit to the Searchers’ ship, and the seemingly miraculous translation of the tape with the help of the Searchers themselves. Finally, he told them of the message on the tape, and concluded with the Searchers’ final warning, and their plea that Earthmen and Spacers somehow find a way to cease their hostilities before the point of no return had been reached, and work together to reach out toward the stars.

  When he finished, there was utter silence in the room. Then the commander let out a sigh and turned to Ben. “Do you really mean me to believe that this fantastic story is true?”

  “It’s true, you can be sure of that.”

  “And you expect me to believe that these Earth snakes would ever dream of putting aside their hatred and allowing us to return from exile as free men?”

  Ben looked at Tom and Joyce. “It would have to be that way.” The commander was groping angrily for words when the mauki spoke for the first time. “There is a more important question to ask,” she said softly. She looked up at Ben. “Where do you stand? You are the son Ivan Trefon. You carry the name of one of the greatest houses in Spacer history. You know we are at war with the people of Earth; where do you stand now? With us?” Her eyes swept across to Tom Barron and his sister. “Or with them?”

  “With them,” Ben Trefon said without hesitation.

  “And where do you stand?” she asked the Barrons. “With your people on Earth? Or with Ben?”

  “With Ben,” Tom and Joyce Barron said firmly.

  “Then what do the three of you want of me?” the mauki asked.

  “You’ve heard why the war must be stopped,” Ben said. “We want you to tell the story, to Earthmen and Spacers alike. We know you can make them believe, if you will.”

  “I see.” The woman fell silent, searching each of their faces in turn. Finally her eyes rested on Joyce.

  “And you were to be a mauki,” she said, half smiling. “Would you now?” Joyce nodded. “If Spacers and Earthmen could both be free.”

  “And this story you have told me is true?”

  “It’s true,” Joyce Barron said.

  “You realize that falsehood and treachery now could destroy your people as well as mine?”

  “I know that,” Joyce said. “But there is no falsehood and no treachery in this room.” For a long time the mauki stared at her. Then she smiled and turned to the commander. “They’re telling the truth,” she said. “There is no question of that. The events they speak of happened, and their decision to come to us this way was sound.”

  “Even so,” the commander said, “what can we do?”

  “I sang once before because I had a message for the men of Earth,” the mauki said. “If enough had heard me then, this war might never have happened. Now they must hear me for sure, before everything is lost.” She smiled sadly. “It is painful for children to put away their toys and take up the tools of men.

  But how much more painful when a child grows up! We no longer dare remain children.”

  “Then you want to spread this story?” the commander said.

  “I do, and the sooner the better. If these young people can find a way to make the others listen.” Perhaps it was the simple fact that none of the Earthmen in the blockading fleet had ever heard a mauki chant before that finally made them agree, from sheer curiosity, to listen.

  Of course it was possible that the Earth commander really believed the story that Tom and Joyce told him, although that seemed doubtful when the story was retold in later days. Perhaps he had seen some partisan advantage to it, or perhaps he had already heard of the Spacer fleet poised and ready to move in toward Earth when Ben Trefon piloted his little S-80 back out through the Maze under a flag of truce to bring the Barrons to the command ship.

  Whatever his reasons for allowing the truce ship through, the Earth commander was surely suspicious as well as curious. Earthmen through the centuries had heard enough about the strange singing of Spacer women to be cautious of its remarkable power. Rumors and stories had grown over the years; many Earthmen believed that these women the Spacers called maukis had some supernatural gift, some magical power to bend men’s wills with the sorcery of their singing. Few Earthmen ever stopped to think that every human civilization since the dawn of history had made music in some form a part of its life, and that in times past other exiled people on Earth itself had developed their own peculiar laments to express themselves.

  This had been the way with Spacers. Life in space had never been easy; only through songs and stories could they keep alive the memory of their lives on Earth, and the hopes that they held for returning one day. There was no magic in a mauki chant. It had no mystical power. But always the singing of Spacer women had come from the heart, driven int
o words by loneliness and longing.

  So the Earth commander’s fears were empty, but they nearly prevailed nonetheless. When Ben Trefon landed his ship with his Earthling friends in the berth of the great Earth command ship, it was only through the Barrons’ insistence that he was allowed to join them in facing the Earth commander at all.

  And as they recounted the things they had told the commander on Asteroid Central, the Earth commander’s face grew heavy with suspicion.

  Yet somehow he seemed to sense the urgency in what they were saying. When they finished he regarded them thoughtfully. “So it is to end hostilities that you wish us to hear this mauki sing,” he said at last. “Very well, we will agree. Let your commander surrender his fortress to us and order his outlying fleet to disarm. We will grant amnesty to all but your leaders, and make every humane effort to permit you to return to your homes in space. Then we will allow your mauki to sing her message to people on Earth and in space alike, and see if the end of your exile can be negotiated.” Ben’s face turned red as he listened; now he shook his head vehemently. “There will be no surrender, conditional or otherwise.”

  The Earth commander turned to Tom Barron. “You want the woman to sing. Convince your friend to accept my terms.”

  “Never,” Tom Barron said. “The Spacers are not about to surrender. Let the mauki sing first.”

  “How do we know this is not a trap?” the Earth commander said. “We would have to stop blocking their radios in order to broadcast her message. How can we be sure that a message will not go out ordering the outlying fleet to attack Earth at once? How do we know that the woman won’t hypnotize us all with her words?”

  “You can’t know,” Ben Trefon said. “You simply have to take the risk that our word will be good.” The commander looked at him. “Then you must also be willing to take a risk.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like bringing the mauki out to this ship to sing.”