Icerigger - Mission To Moulokin Part 3

They rose and walked to the entrance. September's finger continued to point until Ethan spotted the spy-eye in the ceiling.

"Then he's been listening to and watching us the whole time?"

"Naturally, feller-me-lad. What do you expect from a good politician?"

The pyramid building had three sides, the room they entered three corners and walls. Both exterior walls were perfectly transparent, providing a sweeping and by now familiar view of the harbor and the city of Arsudun backed against uneven, white-clad hills. Be-tween hills and harbor the steep-roofed houses looked like a vast spill of gray paint.

Much to Ethan's surprise, the usual desk was ab-sent from the room's furnis.h.i.+ngs. Several large couches in freeform design were positioned around the three-sided chamber. Each was covered in a different variety of local fur. Without knowing anything about their durability, Ethan tried to estimate their worth on the open market based on color and thickness alone. It was substantial. Any life-supporting world as cold as Tran-ky-ky was bound to produce some extraordin-ary furbearing creatures. The treated skins in the room gave ample proof of riches no synthetics could match.

"I'm Jobius Trell," the room's sole inhabit-ant told them, moving to shake his visitor's hands in turn. He was tall, quite tall, standing midway in height between Ethan and September. His mouth seemed po-sitioned naturally and permanently in a gentle, almost boyish grin. That saved him the necessity of worrying about when to smile in ticklish situations. Blue eyes, a square face, small if unlikely dimpled chin, and thick gray hair combed straight back. Ethan estimated his weight at around a hundred kilos, distributed on the build of an ordinary athlete. That is, one blessed with no athletic ability other than what was provided by more than usual size and weight, coupled with average coordination.

Between the Commissioner and September, Ethan felt dwarfed in the room. A gesture directed the visitors to one couch. Trell took the recliner opposite. Ethan could now pick out numerous controls and devices, even thick tape files, set cleverly into the furniture.

A casual wave at September, and Trell spoke. "You noticed my small preview eye, Mr. September.

Have you been familiar with espionage work and equipment in the past?"

"Nope. But I've been in the offices of a lot of politicians."

The Commissioner not only didn't take offense, his laugh sounded quite genuine. "So there's a sense of humor floating around inside that enormous frame of yours. Good. Let's see if I can save us some time." Leaning back into the couch, he ticked off points on his fingers as he talked.

"One: I've already heard the report you gave the postmaster, so I know everything you've told him.

Rest a.s.sured I agree with him completely on expediting your pa.s.sage off this world. After what you've been through, it's the very least I, as Resident Common-wealth representative, can do. You must've had a ter-rible time of it among the primitives."

"Not as terrible as everyone seems to think." Sep-tember spoke easily, inviting challenge.

Trell chose not to accept, or perhaps didn't per-ceive the giant's comment as challenging. "Two, that s.h.i.+p you arrived in. I've had tapes made, solidos formed. Quite a piece of engineering." His voice al-tered, became slightly more intense as he inquired, "Where did the natives get the duralloy for five runners of that size? Surely the locals haven't mastered nuclear metallurgy somewhere out in the snow?"

"No." Ethan explained. "They cut them as best they could, with our help, from the hull of our wrecked lifeboat."

That apparently satisfied Trell. "I suspected some-thing like that. While our Commonwealth charges here aren't stupid, they're much longer on muscle than brains."

"Yes, that's true," said September.

Ethan shook inside. Instead of the expected protest at this slur on their friends, September had reacted with agreement and a beatific smile.

He thought furiously. Since September did nothing without good reason, it followed that he had one for concurring with the Commissioner. As Trell nodded in response, he saw that the Commissioner had been wait-ing for precisely the answer the big man had given him. But if their purpose in coming here was to convince the Commissioner that the Tran were worthy of a.s.sociate Commonwealth status, they weren't off to a very good beginning.

Or were they? Come to think of it, reacting emo-tionally instead of with reason would be the worst way to get the Commissioner on their side. "Longer on muscle than brains, but not stupid", was an evalua-tion of the Tran with which Sir Hunnar himself might readily have agreed.

"Native affairs, you mentioned?" Trell looked at Ethan.

He rose. "We spent quite a number of months among them, sir." Pacing the plushly carpeted room, he felt himself relax. As always, he was most at ease when punching a product he believed in. He believed in the Tran.

"Environment and ecology have conspired against the natives, sir. They're widely dispersed, forced to cling to scattered, often barely accessible islands for survival. While they've adapted well to this harsh climate, their numbers don't seem to be great. I don't know why, but they aren't as numerous as they should be. That also works to their disadvantage.

"And yet," he continued enthusiastically, "Consid-ering their extreme climate they've not only staved off extinction, but have advanced to a fair level of civili-zation. Their technology is unusually advanced in cer-tain areas, such as ices.h.i.+p building and cold weather farming. Races inhabiting more pleasant worlds have not done as well"

"I agree with you." Ethan stopped pacing, aston-ished. First Trell described the Tran as having more muscle than brains, and now he was all but concurring with Ethan's optimistic a.s.sessment of their accomplish-ments.

"Well then?"

"Well then what, Mr. Fortune?" Trell was watch-ing him closely.

Ethan was forced to discard all the arguments he had mustered mentally to build a case for the Tran's abili-ties and jump ahead. "If you agree with my a.s.sessment, sir, consider the benefits to this world of a.s.sociate Com-monwealth members.h.i.+p. They could send delegates to Council as observers. They'd learn a great deal and would be eligible for all kinds of government a.s.sist-ance for which they presently can't qualify. That would raise the planetary standard of living, which in turn would?"

Trell raised a hand, and Ethan stopped short. "Please, Mr. Fortune." The Commissioner's gaze switched from Ethan to September, then back again. "Don't you two realize that I would have been working for that very thing myself? Despite the natives' obvious drawbacks, I admire them very much."

He gestured at his office.

"Look around you. I work here, relax here. Every item in this room not of an electronic nature is of local manufacture. The couches and chairs you rest upon, the decorative arts on walls and tables, everything. Personally I would enjoy nothing better than nominat-ing my charges here for a.s.sociate status.

But," and he shook an admonis.h.i.+ng finger at Ethan, "though I agree with you where the locals' scientific and artistic progress is concerned, let us objectively consider their handi-caps. Social progress has lagged far, far behind every-thing else here." He stood, unconsciously exchanging pacing territory with Ethan, who resumed his seat. Except that Trell moved straight to the nearest window-wall and stared out over town and harbor.

"_You_ wish the Tran to have a.s.sociate Commonwealth status. _I_ wish them to have it." He glanced back over a shoulder. "Which Tran, Mr. Fortune, do you refer to?"

Ethan started to reply, found his thoughts tangled by facts, and said nothing. September stared at him, silent and unhelpful?

*III*

"I see the problem has struck home." Trell turned from the window and the view beyond. "Arsudun was chosen to be the site of the Commonwealth outpost here because it was one of the larger islands located by first survey, and because it has a protected harbor which helps s.h.i.+eld us here from the stronger winds off the ice ocean. However, further surveys could, I am certain, turn up forty other locations of equivalent suit-ability for Bra.s.s Monkey. Arsudun was lucky, not superior.

"Tell me? would it be fair to your friends from-?"

"From Sofold," September told him.

"From Sofold. Would it be fair to them if all the delegates from Tran-ky-ky to Council were to be elected or appointed from Arsudun?"

"Of course not," Ethan put in immediately. "All would vote and-" His voice trailed off.

Trell slumped back into his couch across from them. "Vote, Mr. Fortune? I don't know if there's a word in the Tran dialects for voting."

"They elect Landgraves from time to time," Ethan countered.

"Yes. When the offspring of former rulers are un-acceptable. But you have a point, if what you say is true. I myself have never ventured from Arsudun. But if the sociologists who go out with the scouting parties are agreed on anything, it's the Tran's unwavering suspicion of his neighbor. They are belligerent and jingoistic." He shook his head slowly.

"No. I'm sorry, Mr. Fortune. If the Tran are to claim a.s.sociate status in the Commonwealth, they must present such a claim in some united fas.h.i.+on. There is no planetary government to deal with here. In fact,"

he leaned forward, spoke with seeming excitement, "I won't even require that. A dominant re-gional government would be sufficient, one comprised of a fairly diverse population and reasonable number of city-states. If that existed, then many of these other futile feudal states would fall into line. But you're not going to find any such organization on this world. You're just not.

"Hostility is a way of life on Tran-ky-ky. Not only don't the inhabitants of one state care a k'nith's hind-quarters for their neighbors, what about these nomadic warrior groups?"

"We know about them," Ethan admitted, thinking back to the siege of Sofold by the horde of Sagyanak the Death in which he and September and the others had partic.i.p.ated in the destruction of that ancient enemy of Hunnar's people.

"They're ent.i.tled by the Commonwealth charter to fair representation also." Trell stared expectantly at Ethan, as if the outcome of the discussion had already been decided. "Can you see the island dwellers allying themselves politically and culturally with those blood-hungry migratory bandits?" He shook his head again.

"No, I'm afraid not, gentlesirs. In a few thousand years, maybe even in a few hundred, they might ma-ture enough to exchange breath with all their neigh-bors. But not now." He threw up both hands in an unnecessarily melodramatic gesture.

"As things stand now there is no way I in my posi-tion as Resident Commissioner can recommend them for a.s.sociate members.h.i.+p. Or even for wards.h.i.+p. They are too independent and advanced to qualify as char-ity cases. A large regional government even-but these bellicose little island states, no. It's not workable or fair." He rose. Ethan and September did likewise.

"I thank you for your interest, gentlesirs. I think that on reflection you'll have to admit that personal emotion has played some part in your reasoning." He was chiding them gently. "You've spent considerable time among these people. It's only natural you'd want to help them. First, however, they must help them-selves.

"Your s.h.i.+p will insert orbit in a couple of days, I believe. I'll be at the port to see you off personally.

If there's anything I can do for you in the meantime, any service I can perform, please don't hesitate to call on me."

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Commissioner." Ethan didn't try to hide his disappointment. They shook hands all around once more.

Trell spoke as they were halfway out the door. "You'll stay in the Administrator's quarters, of course.

At government expense."

"That's right kind of you, sir." September smiled back at him. "Considerin' the distance and dangers our hosts have brought us through, however, I think they'd be downright insulted if we didn't spend our last few days with them. You understand."

"Of course." Ethan couldn't tell if Trell was dis-pleased by this announcement or not. "Anytime you change your minds, want to switch from the barbaric to the civilized, your accommodations will be waiting for you."

"Thank you again," Ethan said, closing the door behind them.

Jobius Trell watched the door for a minute, then resumed his seat on the couch. Fur tickled the back of his neck and he s.h.i.+fted his position slightly. His mind was occupied by something other than the room's de-cor. Eventually he touched a nearby control, spoke into the room.

"Note: discuss visitor's psycho-verbal orientation with compudex file. Compare intensity gradient with recording of conversation with portmaster Xenaxis. Request computation of likely action tendencies, based on available data."

Trell felt better after that, well enough to return to his real work. Always better to keep up with what he was supposed to be doing, so he could enjoy his apol-itical machinations to the fullest.

Though the breeze off the harbor was comparatively mild, Ethan felt chilled through the artificial skin of his survival suit. Several local Tran sped past on the icepath they were paralleling. None turned to gawk. Humans were an accepted sight here on Arsudun.

"I guess that's that, Skua. Give him his due, his arguments against granting status to Tran-ky-ky were strong."

"They sure were, feller-me-lad. For instance, he was right when he said we were emotionally involved in this matter. What he didn't add was that he's equally involved. More than emotionally, I'll wager. He said so with his face and his modukeys."

"Modukeys?"

"Every word can be p.r.o.nounced a lot of ways, lad. Each way carries an emotional key. I can recognize a few of 'em. Enough to tell me our friend Trell wouldn't be too disappointed if the Tran stay just as divided and combative as they are now." He had the facemask of his suit up. September liked to have free-dom to grimace. He did so now.

"Tell me, lad. Who would stand most to profit from the present situation, from keeping Tran-ky-ky backward and unrepresented in Council? Who could keep a nice, private eye on every bit of off-planet trade and regulate it to suit his own personal accounts?"

"I didn't get that impression from Trell at all, Skua." Ethan kicked at the icepath, sent a few pale splinters flying. "That's a strong accusation to make against a Resident Commissioner."

"There's an informal law, lad, about political ap-pointees. The smaller the post, the less often they're inspected, and the more opportunity there is for foolin' around with the books." He clapped Ethan on the back, nearly knocking him down. "Wouldn't be the first time good manners have s.h.i.+elded a larcenous heart." He frowned. "Course, he's right about this feudal setup. We'll have to do something about that."

Ethan stopped, the snow swirling around him trying to find a way to penetrate his survival suit. "Do something about it? We can't do anything about it. What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking, young feller-me-lad, that we've several days left to think about it?"

"Three there are it is not possible to do." Sir Hunnar Redbeard spoke with conviction as he gazed at hu-mans and Tran seated around the long galley table of the _Slanderscree_.

"It is not possible to kill a stavanzer. It is not possible to stand against a westwind Rif. And it is not possible to keep the Tran from warring among them-selves." He turned his feline stare on Ethan. His voice was as cold and a.s.sured as the slight storm howling outside the s.h.i.+p, making squeaking sounds in the cracks between rafters and planks.

"What you propose, friend Ethan, cannot be imagined, far less can it be done. A union of islands, a confederation of states? A council of Landgraves?" His triangular ears switched nervously. "More likely it would be for water to run freely across the seas."

"It _has_ to be done, Hunnar." Ethan was half plead-ing with the a.s.sembled knights. "Don't you understand how things have been set up here? The people of Arsudun and more importantly, their leaders, have a monopoly on all offworld trade and information. They profit tremendously, unfairly from it. It should be shared equally among all the Tran."

"Aye, the metal," a gruff voice added. Eyes turned in its direction.

Balavere Longax was Sofold's most respected living warrior. An older, stockier version of Hunnar, his gray fur turning to white in patches, he commanded silence on the rare occasions when he chose to speak. Though less excited than those of his colleagues, his words carried considerably more weight.

"The metal. Never have I seen so much metal as the people of Arsudun possess. Nor do they seem deserving of it." That brought irritated murmurs of agreement from several other members of the crew.

"Not only their weapons, my friends, but yea too their household implements, water pots, and others are pure metal."

Ethan nodded enthusiastically. "And they're still being cheated, I think. Stelamic is cheaper than duralloy."

September pushed back his chair, making the floor-boards creak. "Hunnar, if the Tran will spill blood for metal, why are you so d.a.m.ned sure they won't cooperate to get it?"

"It is considered degrading to cooperate with people from a less n.o.ble state," the knight replied, as if that explained everything. "Do you remember when Sagyanak's Horde a.s.saulted Wannome? The shedevil's tribe was a threat to all states. How much help was volunteered to us? How much aid did our neigh-bors provide to help fight the common enemy?" He sat down, mumbled, "Profit is not sufficient reason for forgetting old hatreds and suspicions. Your own Commonwealth thing, there is no word for it in our language. The closest I can come is family."

"That's just how you have to start thinking of all Tran," Ethan interrupted excitedly. "You're a family.

That's all any race is, an extended family. Like it or not, Tran-ky-ky is destined to take its place as a member of the Commonwealth. You can't go back to Wannome and look up at the night sky from your homes without realizing you're a part of something much bigger and grander than Sofold. You might as well gain the advantages that are yours by right, _now_." A little out of breath and a bit embarra.s.sed at the strength of his unexpected polemic, Ethan sat back down.

"Advantages which should be spread among all Tran," September added more quietly, but just as emphatically.

"My good friends with whom I share my warmth, I recognize the truth of your words." Hunnar looked despondent. "Would that I could will the spirit of this world otherwise. But the Tran are good at arguing with knives, not with words."

"Then you must achieve the same end with knives." Colette du Kane entered the room. She waddled gracefully to the far end of the long wooden table, placed both hands on it and leaned forward. "If rea-son and logic aren't enough to cement this confedera-tion you must make, then do it with knives. The end is justified by what you will gain." She threw Ethan and September a rather disdainful look.

"Only profits have so far been mentioned, material things. Commonwealth members.h.i.+p will force you to mature as a people. Soon you won't need knives to discuss with. But if you fail," and she paused for em-phasis, "you'll remain just as you are, frozen in ability and evolution as well as in daily life. You'll stay ignorant farmers and fighters and your cubs will grow up just as inefficient and deprived as you all are."

Wind hammered insistently at doorways and port-holes, the only sound in the room.

Eventually Hunnar spoke, choosing his words carefully. "You have ventured enough insults to result in a shortened tongue, woman. Yet you did so, I believe, in the hope of benefiting us. What you say is truthspeak." Several of the other n.o.bles now looked askance at, Hunnar, then at one another. There were some un-happy mutterings and a few threatening looks in Co-lette's direction.

"Listen to you all." Ethan thought he had seen someone else behind Colette when she stepped through the cabin portal. Now that other person also entered.

Elfa KurdaghVlata looked like a bewhiskered Amazon in cloak and light robe. Her translucent dan caught the back light of oil lamps beyond and turned to curved sheets of orange flame when she raised her arms.

"You confirm what the human woman says every time you speak. She calls you ignorant and in response to her reasoning words you make stupid threatening sounds, like mewling cubs caught stealing vegetables."