Those Of My Blood Part 29

"Didn't you hear?" interrupted a woman. "They consider the station contaminated. Killing H'lim won't change that."

"They can still send us supplies-even under quarantine," argued s.h.i.+mon. "We won't die."

"They want us dead. They don't want H'lim's knowledge to reach Earth. They're scared enough to nuke the station."

t.i.tus held up his hands for silence and declared, "A few people, a few nations, on Earth have panicked, but that's no reason for us to panic. The majority of humans are level-headed, sane, practical people who value life-even ours, even H'lim's. We will survive until sense prevails, and we will do the job we were hired to do."

With that, he ducked into his office and shut the door, wis.h.i.+ng he could believe his own words. They'd sounded awfully weak, but the noise level subsided.

Fingers trembling, he sat down and tapped his message buffer. Sure enough, there was word from Connie, but it cut off in mid-sentence as communications were disrupted. With only minutes' warning of the attack on Barnaby Peter, she had managed to send a brief admonition to stop Abbot at all costs and sit tight until she could resupply him.

He wrapped his arms around himself and let the shock course through him. Going to starve on the moon after all. I should listen to my intuition! After a while, he began to think and plan again.

If the blockade worked despite W. S. determination, it would change everything. They wouldn't be able to finish building the probe, they couldn't launch it, and so they wouldn't need any messages or targeting data. There was no way to defend the station, the probe hangar, or the launch pad from direct attack. I he residences might be safe from low-yield explosives, but the surface installations would go-even the solar collectors and antennae. Despite everything W. S. could do, the blockade might w, and then what would the Tourists-more specifically, Abbot-do?

t.i.tus had given up trying to tap Abbot's communications the ground-based Tourists. He could only guess what Abbot's orders were. He pulled up his note file and listed his questions. What had Abbot been building after he discovered his transmitter's power source was missing? How much damage had he done to H'lim's att.i.tude toward humans? t.i.tus thought he'd scored more points with H'lim than Abbot had, but he couldn't be sure. How did Abbot intend to survive now that the use of Influence on his stringers was so dangerous?

Clearly, whatever Abbot intended, he would be working against a nearer deadline than he'd ever expected. Would haste drive Abbot to make errors, take chances? t.i.tus put himself into Abbot's shoes, looked at the entire situation again, and suddenly knew.

The secessionists would seize all the lunar facilities Project Hail was using, including the antenna Arrays. W.S. had rejected the idea of sending the message from here in order to prevent possibly hostile galactics from getting a directional fix on the beam and following it right to Earth.

But their decision didn't bind the Tourists, and if the probe didn't go-or perhaps even if it did-they would not hesitate to use the Arrays. They wanted the luren to know Earth's location and come here as quickly as possible.

Thinking about it, t.i.tus wondered if the Tourists had known of the blockade in advance and had sent Abbot orders to s.h.i.+ft to the use of the Arrays on the a.s.sumption that the probe would never go. Abbot could have been building a second transmitter designed to use the Arrays. And Connie knew, which explained her admonition to stop Abbot. Her other operatives would be trying to stop the Tourists, who were no doubt infiltrating the secessionist forces on the moon to use them to get at a broadcast antenna Array.

t.i.tus's fingers flew over the keyboard, bringing up a list of the seceding nations as he strove to recall everything Connie had told him of the Tourists' deployment around the globe. They can do it! By d.a.m.n, they can! But can Connie stop them? How ironic. The secessionists, the very humans most opposed to summoning aliens, would actually facilitate that call. Abbot would find that delicious.

Meanwhile, as long as there was hope, the Tourists' main objective would still be focused on the launch of the probe. Either way, probe or ground-based, they needed H'lim's text, and that would be Abbot's job. After H'lim's mere presence had triggered armed rebellion, Abbot wouldn't expect W.S. to include H'lim's text in the probe's official message.

t.i.tus bounded out of his chair and was halfway across the lab when s.h.i.+mon and a group of others accosted him. "Dr. s.h.i.+ddehara, what are your orders?"

The question was more a challenge of authority than a simple request for directions. These people were scared. He adopted a calm, positive tone and supported his words with a faint Influence. "Dr. Colby expects to receive supplies to finish and launch the probe immediately, even without the full load of instruments and experiments.

"Given this whole new situation, this department will be called upon to deliver a final decision about the target within a matter of days. Therefore, I'm going to hold a department meeting tomorrow morning, and I'll want written reports from each of you on the status of your work. I want summaries of the data from Wild Goose and of the new physiological data on the alien. I'll want verbal summations from each of you. Consider yourselves on overtime." He went to the door, then turned back with a calculated, "Oh, and there will be bonuses if we pull this one off."

He left while their stunned silence held.

He found H'lim in Biomed, off an underground corridor, surveying the empty room that was to become his own lab. The four guards were posted outside the door. Inside, Inea was scuffing about in a far corner where equipment had been ripped out. Near her, a door stood open revealing a small lavatory. Abbot stood next to H'lim, taking notes on a requisition pad. "I think we have some variable temperature incubators still in stock-new and perfectly sterile. About this high and this wide." Abbot gestured against a wall. "You've seen them-with movable shelves?"

"Yes. I know the kind you mean. But I will also need running water, and-"

"No problem-comes with the wet benches." Abbot pointed out several plumbing clumps sticking up from the floor. "Now the centrifuges-we had three in for repair last week, and I think we can-oh, t.i.tus, we wondered where you'd gone."

"I'm glad you're getting H'lim's lab organized," t.i.tus commented obliquely as he surveyed the room for cameras.

Following his gaze, H'lim said, "Dr. Colby has graciously allowed the removal of the cameras, and Abbot has offered to build magnetic s.h.i.+elding around everything else. It should be possible to work here."

Inea came toward them, greeting t.i.tus, and saying to H'lim, "I think the computers can fit in that corner. Do you want to face the wall or the room?"

"I don't care as long as I can use the data files I've already built, and I don't have to contend with these lights." He adjusted his goggles and eyed the closed door behind t.i.tus. Lowering his voice, he said, "Give me ten, maybe fifteen days after I have your tissue samples a.n.a.lyzed, and I'll have a batch of my booster ready to test."

Abbot cautioned, "You may be overestimating what our equipment can do."

"Maybe. But if Andre comes through with the orl blood as promised-"

"His first batch was a failure," observed Abbot.

"I found what he'd done wrong," argued H'lim. "It is my field, you know." His tone was flat, but there was no mistaking the challenge. "I believe there'll be just enough for all three of us. When my booster is ready-"

"You mustn't forget," said t.i.tus, "that you'll have to spend most of your time on producing something for Colby to pa.s.s on to Earth, something innocuous but commercially viable. If we show you're a valuable resource, not just a liability, the blockade won't last long."

Apologetically, Abbot said, "My son is an idealist, and somewhat naive about human politics, but he's right. Your highest priority must be to produce for Colby, and you have a lot to learn before you can be effective."

"My background is sufficient. No, the time problem lies mostly in concealing my real work from those familiar with the field who will want to learn what I'm doing. That's why I need access to the notes I've been making. I have to devise something I can say I'm doing when I'm really tailoring the booster. When will all this be ready?" He gestured at the empty room.

Abbot glanced at the requisition pad. "Tonight."

"I can have your computer installed in about three hours," offered Inea. "And I've requisitioned a direct tap for your room, when you get one, so you can work from there, too. I'll get started now." She turned to the door.

"I'll go with you," said H'lim and she paused. "Maybe I can find someplace to sit down and work on that message you wanted, Abbot. It's a challenge to make it that short and still convincing. What's the matter, t.i.tus?"

Abbot's serene expression had frozen. t.i.tus asked, not taking his eyes off Abbot, "What message, H'lim?"

H'lim's gaze s.h.i.+fted to Abbot who said, "Basically, the same message Carol wanted drafted. Nothing remarkable."

A great silence blanketed the room. H'lim asked, "It is a point of disagreement between you? I thought-"

"Nothing's changed," said t.i.tus. "Earth belongs to the humans, and it's up to them what message to send."

"They won't send any, not now, not under threat of war," said Abbot. "And we will die. All of us. You know it, t.i.tus. They've learned too much about luren from H'lim. Someone will spot us soon and we'll all be hunted down and killed. Don't interfere, son." The air congealed with Abbot's Influence. It was an order.

Inea moved to t.i.tus's side. H'lim's gaze flicked from t.i.tus to Abbot. Inea, oblivious to the tension, said, "Abbot doesn't understand people. If I were you, H'lim, I wouldn't take Abbot's Word for anything."

Abbot's lips twitched, as if he were suppressing a snarl, t.i.tus, keep a reign on your stringer."

Teeth clenched and throat tight with the effort of defying Abbot, t.i.tus whispered, "She's right. H'lim, Abbot's got to translate your message into burst-code and provide a decode template for whoever receives it. He knows enough of the language to make your message say anything he wants. You'll never be able to check if-"

"I've figured out Kylyd's communications protocols," said Abbot. "You can see for yourself if I change anything."

"Can you read burst-code, even your own people's code?"

"No," H'lim answered t.i.tus, "but Abbot's repaired the machines that can. Carol Colby knows this. Using proper galactic protocols instead of one of Earth's digital codes, the message will be readable by anyone."

t.i.tus had heard they were working on Kylyd's electronics, but he hadn't heard of their success. Perhaps it had been b.u.mped from the meetings agendas in order to focus on the problem of H'lim's escapade. "But Colby doesn't know that Abbot understands the protocols and the language, does she?"

"No, t.i.tus, she doesn't," answered Abbot.

t.i.tus skewered H'lim with a finger, "And you won't know exactly what message Abbot actually sends! You said yourself the legal position of Earth's luren was questionable. Abbot wouldn't stop at tying you into our fate in the galactic community, if he knew a way to do it."

H'lim paled, if that were possible for one so chalk white to begin with. t.i.tus watched his stiff shock and suddenly doubted everything H'lim had implied about how luren would treat humans and Earth luren. H'lim did, after all, want their help in sending a message home. He wouldn't have mentioned anything that might deter them from helping him.

t.i.tus added, "And if I know Abbot, I'll bet he does know a way to do it. Does that bother you, H'lim?"

"Not really. I just wouldn't want to be tied up in law courts for years. I have a business to run. I could go bankrupt waiting to testify for you."

It sounded almost plausible, but t.i.tus felt there was more to it than that. Abbot said, "I wouldn't trap you into an untenable situation, not after all the help you've given us. I only want to program your message into my transmitter and make sure it's in the probe when it's launched. That way, even if the humans make the probe nothing but a receiver, your message will go out and you can go home."

t.i.tus's neck hairs stirred. Abbot's Influence was still a palpable force in the room, but t.i.tus suspected he was lying and H'lim believed every word of it. "H'lim, as a father to you, I want you to understand that the only message you are to compose is the one for Carol Colby."

"I don't really need him to write it, you know," said Abbot, his Influence growing heavy and invasive, "but it would be safer if he did. I might make some error that would bring battles.h.i.+ps instead of merchants here. Would you want to risk that?" Abbot's Influence clutched at t.i.tus. "You wouldn't oppose your First Father, would you? You wouldn't order your son to oppose your father, would you?"

Despite himself, t.i.tus shook his head. "No, I wouldn't want to risk any of that."

"t.i.tus!" protested Inea, but he hardly heard her.

"Stop!" snapped H'lim. "Abbot, he's your son!"

The pall of Influence lifted, but t.i.tus was still held rigidly silent, emotions distanced, knowing intellectually that he'd gone too far this time.

Abbot said, "He has defied me."

H'lim asked, "Is everything a matter of hierarchy for you? Well then consider this. t.i.tus is not my first father, but my fourth. I owe prior loyalties, stronger ones, and to fulfill those I must do my best to call for help no matter how t.i.tus feels about it, or for that matter how you feel about it, Abbot." He faced Abbot again and H'lim's power throbbed through the room, clas.h.i.+ng with Abbot's.

They stood silently, locked in a battle of wills until H'lim's Influence blotted out Abbot's, who staggered back, gasping. Suddenly t.i.tus gulped air again, free.

H'lim said, "If strength is your only criterion, then only my prevails, for I'm strongest here. If Law is your only criterion, then you can't displace my First Father or his needs. But I prefer to conduct business as business. Trade translates across all boundaries of custom and law, and in trade value replaces strength. You have given me value-my life, sustenance, a chance to go home. In return, I offer you value-some bits of science, sustenance, and a chance to contact your ancestral roots. Surely it makes better sense to bargain than to fight."

"It sounds very civilized," said t.i.tus, his throat dry and aching from Abbot's clutch of Influence. "But around here, the only ones authorized to trade with you regarding that message are the owners of the hardware that'll carry it, Earth's humans."

"If the probe doesn't go at all," said Abbot, "you'll be stuck here with us until you die. Do you want that, H'lim? Isn't this place-alien?" He gestured at the walls, but encompa.s.sed the whole installation.

H'lim followed the gesture thoughtfully, then turned somber eyes back on them. "Not as much as you might expect," he murmured cryptically.

Before t.i.tus could ask what he meant, Carol Colby entered, trailed by Mirelle de Lisle carrying a stack of book cartridges. Mirelle had circles under her eyes, and her fingers danced as if with caffeine jitters. She'd lost weight, and the angular planes of her body showed through the loose uniform. Her hair seemed to have lost l.u.s.ter, too, or perhaps it simply wasn't as well cared for. But t.i.tus knew the signs of depletion and silently cursed Abbot for it.

As Colby greeted everyone, Inea inspected Mirelle with a grim twist to her mouth.

Colby turned to H'lim. "I've cleared an apartment for you, as agreed. You can move in anytime. Inea requisitioned you an Exec terminal so you can tap into your lab's files fron. the apartment, so I had to put you next to Abbot." She handed him a key, white and glossy with its code strip showing.

He ran a finger along the strip, musing, "On the other hand, the philosophy behind the technology is very odd."

"Have I missed something?" asked Colby.

"Not at all," said Abbot, proffering the notepad in his hand.

"I've got the complete equipment list now, so I'll go get Mintraub on it right away." He filled Colby in on their proposed schedule and she signed the requisition.

As Abbot departed, he caught t.i.tus's eye then glanced at Inea, lips compressed in disapproval. H'lim followed the exchange silently. t.i.tus said, "Inea, I'll show H'lim to his room while you get his computers installed, all right?"

She nodded and started for the door, but Colby said, "Abbot, wait! I'm calling a special department heads' meeting for tomorrow at noon. I'll want reports on the new rationing schedule and I may have news from Earth, so be prompt."

"I'll be there," replied Abbot, and ducked out between the guards, followed by Inea. Beyond the door, t.i.tus glimpsed a small knot of people craning their necks for a glimpse of the alien.

"And leave the door open," called Colby to Inea as she moved so that they were visible. Lowering her voice, she said, "Dr. Sa'ar, there are some grim realities that you must face. As soon as I leave this room, I'll be tested for lingering traces of hypnotism. You might slip something past us, but if we find anything you've done to someone, your life may well be forfeit. And don't give your guards the slip. There are a lot of people on this station right now who would like to see you dead, and though we don't have any homicidal types here, mob violence is always a possibility among humans. Some may sympathize with the blockaders. Do you understand this?" She glanced at Mirelle whose job it had been to teach H'lim the rudiments of human behavior.

"I comprehend my danger, Dr. Colby, perhaps even more keenly than you do."

Mirelle said, "I believe he does."

"And I am eager to work to prove you all wrong about me. I'm a simple merchant who would like to go home, and I'm willing to pay my way."

Colby folded her arms and paced a small circle. "So you keep claiming. We shall see. We're very cut off here, very vulnerable, with suddenly limited resources. Do something to alleviate our situation, and you'll be a hero. Do you understand what a hero is?"

"Yes," he answered simply and Mirelle corroborated him.

"Show us any threatening behavior and you shall be dead Do you understand that?"

"Yes."

"Dr. de Lisle says you exhibit the cla.s.sic human reward-response behavior. I'm going to trust her judgment. I've entered a security clearance for you commensurate with that of my department heads, and I've put you on the payroll so you can make purchases-though I suggest you don't go strolling through the shopping mall. It could upset people."

"I understand."

"I'll expect you at the meeting tomorrow with a report on your progress here. Let me know who you want a.s.signed as your staff or get Abbot to select them for you. You'll need a good secretary. It takes a lifetime to learn how to handle W.S. paperwork, and G.o.d alone knows what to do about income tax. I'll expect you to report on the schedule you've set up with Biomed to teach them what you know, and Cognitive Sciences has requisitioned a portion of your time to study you."

"That's understood."

She rounded on him. "I hope so," she said in a hard, tense voice. "I'm putting my career on the line for you, Dr. Sa'ar. You'll be treated as one of us only so long as you behave as one of us."

"Have I broken my word yet?"

"Not that we've found-yet. But in the meantime, don't let anyone catch you out of your apartment without either t.i.tus, Abbot, or Inea. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly."

Colby turned to t.i.tus. "The work of your department is no less important for all this added duty," she began.

"I figured that," answered t.i.tus and reported the overtime he'd authorized so his people could prepare a summary morning. "My staff is handling things, but Cellura is bad y overworked. I've put her on overtime, too."

Colby nodded and made a note on the board she carried. "Just see she gets enough rest and exercise. I don't want anyone cracking up. Not now." With that, she departed, leaving t.i.tus alone with Mirelle and H'lim.

Looking after Colby, Mirelle said, "She's not herself lately. Too much pressure and not enough rest."

"She's frightened," said H'lim.

Mirelle blinked at him, then cracked a dazzling smile that wiped away the fatigue. "You learn fast!" Proffering the stack of cartridges she'd brought, she recited dully, "Here, these are the books I promised. I annotated them for you, so you don't have to read it all." She selected two saying, "This is Burke on Rhetoric, and this is the Kine Variant Tabulation, unabridged. Chapter Twenty lists the fifteen degrees of eyelid closure, but most human cultures only recognize five at the most. The Chapters beyond Twenty have to do with complex kinemorphs, so don't bother with those. They'd just confuse you."

H'lim caressed the plastic. "Oh, I think this will be most valuable. Thank you, Mirelle."