Antagonist - Childe Cycle 11 (4 page)

"No," Dahno said, thoughtfully. "I suppose not." He raised an eyebrow as he looked closely at his brother. "So you have some reason for going to Ceta to try to unravel this?" he said.

"Yes, of course," Bleys said. "Ceta seems to be where these attacks originated."

"You can tell that somehow?"

"Yes. Remember, among the Younger Worlds, Ceta was always the Exotics' main competition in commerce, after Old Earth."

"So they had the greatest motive to try to undermine the Exotics," Dahno said. "Doesn't that come down to money and power, as I said earlier?"

"True," Bleys said, "but I think there's something extra involved." "Why do you think that?"

"Because there's been a strain of vindictiveness involved in all this," Bleys said. "Some of the things I've found in the records have no other good explanation."

"Such as?"

"Such as the Dorsai being charged more for some products than other worlds have been paying," Bleys said. "Such as collusion between companies—usually Cetan companies—competing against the Exotics, to undercut Exotic bids, even when it means the competitors must have been losing money."

"A certain amount of that could simply be good—well, maybe sharp—business practice," Dahno said.

"Now and again, yes," Bleys said. "But not when it's a pattern repeated frequently over decades."

"So you're going to Ceta to try to uncover this," Dahno said. "Then what?"

"Well, think about the other ramifications of this," Bleys answered. "If I'm right, why don't our Others, who've been working on Ceta for years, know about it?"

"I see," Dahno said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "If our people don't know about whoever's doing all this—then we're being played."

"Which means our own plans are being undermined," Bleys said. "Yes, I see that," Dahno said. He was suddenly tight-lipped, and Bleys knew his brother was concealing the effect of a severe blow.

Dahno had always been almost obsessive about maintaining his personal independence—it was a reaction to the way he had been treated by their mother, as a kind of personal accessory—and Bleys could think of little that would shock his brother more than to find out he had been manipulated.

CHAPTER 4

"Uncle Henry, are you busy?" "Nothing that can't keep, Bleys."

"I'd like to speak with you about preparations for another trip," Bleys said into his wristpad. "Off-planet, I mean; and soon. Continue with what you're doing, but I'd appreciate it if you'd come to see me when you're finished."

"God has willed that it would be appropriate to do so," Henry MacLean said. "Carl and I have been comparing opinions on the new Soldiers we've brought in since Newton, and I wanted to speak with you about that when we are finished." Henry's voice and words often became more formal when the God he believed in was mentioned, but he had never used the antique-sounding speech affected by many of those who thought themselves unusually devout.

"Good," said Bleys. "Come up when you're ready, then."

"I will."

When faced with a problem, Bleys often worked it out in his head while pacing relentlessly
up
and down the length of his private lounge, in the tall building that now housed the headquarters of the Others, in Ecumeny, the capital of Association. But not this time. This time, he felt scattered and unable to focus.

That, he thought, as he tried to impose his usual discipline on his mind, was because there wasn't really a problem to focus on. The task he faced was simple; unfortunately, it was going to be difficult.

His uncle Henry was going to be coming up to sec him soon. Henry MacLean was the organizer and leader of
Bley
s' Soldiers, the picked bodyguards Bleys had to surround himself with, these days.

Henry had to be told, right away, to make the preparations necessary for the trip to Ceta.

Faced with mentioning Ceta to his uncle, Bleys had found that, at some deep level, he was afraid. Because it was on Ceta that Henry's younger son, Will, had been killed, some years ago, while serving with a unit of Friendly Militia leased to a principality on that planet.

Bleys had never seen Henry display any deep emotional reaction with regard to Will's death. But Bleys knew, on a level so detached that it might have happened to someone else, that he himself had reacted strongly to the news. He could no longer recall—he avoided trying to recapture—the explosion of emotion he had felt at the time.

He was afraid to see what Henry's reaction might be.

He stopped short in his pacing, remembering, suddenly, that he had lied to Henry, the first time he saw his uncle after Will's death.

Bleys had been on Cassida, one stop on his first tour of the Others' organizations on the various Younger Worlds, when he received the news. He had finished his tour, including a stop on Ceta, before returning to Association—and almost his first stop upon arrival was a visit to Henry's farm, where Henry, almost casually, had asked Bleys whether his trip off-planet had taken him to Ceta.

Bleys had immediately told Henry he had not gone there.

Bleys could no longer recall, if he had ever known, why he had lied to his uncle. For the first time now it occurred to him he might have been trying to avoid reminding himself of the uncomfortable emotional reaction he had himself experienced.

At any rate, he had lied, and it was a good thing he had recalled that fact now, before dealing with Henry face-to-face. He would have to watch how he spoke in front of his uncle, from here on— either avoiding any reference to that previous trip, or giving a vague impression it had occurred at some other time.

For a moment he felt a touch of irritation, that he had let himself be so paralyzed; but the feeling was quickly forgotten as he turned to the screen that accessed his information stores. This trip was going to require a lot of preparation.

By the time Toni was due back from whatever errand she had
been on, Bleys was deep in his study of the Cetan situation, taking his researches down byways he had not had time to pursue before. His staff had prepared digests of all the materials relating to Cetan society available in the Chamber Library, here in Ecumeny, as well as of information gleaned from a number of government departments. He reserved for himself, however, the task of integrating that material with the data sent back, over the last decade and more, by the Others who had been sent to work on Ceta
..
. the staff here never saw that kind of report.

This was a time he could regret that the computers on each world were not fully connected to each other, as they had once been on Old Earth; it would have made his researches much easier. But humanity had taken to heart the lesson it learned when the Super-Complex, the great supercomputer, had rebelled and wreaked havoc on the mother planet: no one would ever again link computers in any quantity sufficient to risk that kind of incident.

Instead, Bleys had to send out for information, including dispatching messages to the Others' groups on all the Younger Worlds— except, specifically, for Ceta—instructing them to send him as much data on that planet as they could locate on their worlds, and to do so quickly, sending it in installments, if need be. The information was unlikely to arrive on Association in any quantity before he himself left for Ceta, though; and in any case it would be so voluminous as to require it be winnowed by his staff... he would have to be sure to leave instructions on that.

He realized he was becoming irritated again. He hated it when that happened; emotion hampered the mind's cool functioning.

After a few moments of self-examination, he concluded that the irritation, this time, arose out of his deeply buried discomfort at having to leave it to his staff to digest the information for him. He had tried to select for intelligent people, and had worked to train them; but it bothered him nonetheless
...
it was just so likely they would miss something important that he would have found, if only . . .

Pulling himself out of that train of thought, he checked the time, wondering where Toni was. Explaining the need for this trip to her would be considerably easier that it had been with Dahno. He could depend on her for that, he knew; whatever the motivation might be behind Toni's voluntary attachment of herself to him, she brought to her position much more of a judicious wait-and-see attitude than did his half-brother.

"What are
you planning?" Toni said, immediately after her arrival. "Am I that obvious now?"

"You know you aren't," she said, smiling at him, the blue of her eyes seeming to stand out in the room, as if strengthened by the turquoise scarf she wore at her neck. "But I have more experience with reading you than almost anyone."

"That's true," he said.

The only other people who had much experience with him at all were Dahno and Henry, he reminded himself. Were they able to get information just from watching his face?

Once Toni had been filled in on the need to go to Ceta, and while they were waiting for Henry to arrive, the two of them laid out a rough plan for the trip.

For public consumption, it would be portrayed as a semi-official trip by
Bley
s, as First Elder among the Friendlics, and his brother, Dahno, an elected member of the Chamber on Association, to visit the various units of Friendly Militia that had been leased out to s
everal states scattered about C
eta. It was a good enough excuse for the trip, that on the two Friendly worlds of Harmony and Association, images of the brothers apparently lending support to the young soldiers would be politically useful; within a few days the population at home—and, indeed, people on other worlds—would be seeing images of Bleys the philosopher listening to the concerns of young enlisted troops as they shared a meal, or imparting quiet words that obviously inspired the young soldiers.

This kind of trip, Toni pointed out, would provide great fodder for political commentary by anyone who was opposed to Bleys personally, or to the Others—or even to the McKae administration. But Bleys dismissed that worry: with the Others' steadily increasing control of both the government and the media, on both Friendly

worlds as well as on several other planets, such jaundiced views could be effectively marginalized in a number of ways.

And even the more sophisticated among the viewing audience would find themselves somewhat disarmed when it became obvious that the elected politician on the trip, Dahno, although alongside his brother and lending support, was obviously not pushing himself in front of the lenses.

"Is Dahno in agreement with all this?" Toni asked. "He doesn't usually want to be in the public eye, and I'm pretty sure he's not really interested in being re
-
elected to the Chamber."

She had learned a lot about his brother, Bleys reflected.

"Not in detail," he responded now. "But he'll go along with this—I've already convinced him of the need for the trip, and he'll sec the usefulness of concealing the real purpose of our trip behind this facade."

"Layers within layers," she said. "That would appeal to Dahno, all right."

"You're right about another thing, too," Bleys said. "Dahno only took the Chamber seat when I vacated it because at the time we needed someone there who could control the place—and that's no longer a worry."

"Has this trip been cleared with McKae?"

That question was, in a way, a test for Bleys, himself. Darrcl McKac was the Eldest, the highest officer of the two Friendly planets, elected by the populace of both worlds—and the man who had appointed Bleys to his position. But Bleys had made it clear to McKae some time ago that he would not be bound to the dictates of his nominal superior. And McKac, who had achieved his own position only with Bleys' aid, lacked any real desire to fight him.

Toni had reacted with strong approval, Bleys remembered, the first time he had refused an order from McKae. She seemed somehow to see that as an indication of a kind of moral ascendancy on
Bley
s' part. Since that time, McKae had largely been acquiescent in whatever Bleys had planned.

Darrel McKae, Bleys reminded himself now, had not gotten to his position by being a weakling. And for all that he might have become overly fond, of late, of both wine and his office—and even been repelled, or frightened, by something he had been able to see in Bleys—the fact was that in large part he had not opposed Bleys because he was smart enough to know he had very little to gain by getting into a public spat with the First Elder he himself had appointed
..
. but that implied truce would work only so long as nothing happened to upset the Eldest.

"Not yet," Bleys told Toni now. "But we'll clear it with his office anyway. He won't object. Could you have the Office of the First Elder draft an official communication to the Eldest's Office?"

"I will," she said. "And may I suggest we ask both Offices for suggestions for one or two diplomatic missions you could undertake while on Ceta? It would add weight to the official purpose of the trip—"

"You're right," he said, interrupting her. "Having a second level of reasons for doing something always tends to deflect observers."

"—and also provides justification if you find you have to move about Ceta, to places where there are no Friendly troops to visit; or if you're noticed to have been moving about in secret."

"Thank you," he said. "I hadn't thought of that."

"You're not yet used to thinking of yourself as a public officer," she said.

"I know," he said, a little ruefully. "To tell the truth, I'm uncomfortable with having the extra position. It's a drag on me, holding me down from being free to go when and where I want."

"It's one of the prices you have to pay to carry out your own mission," she said. He knew she was thinking of the plan he had made his life's task, which only she—and to a much more limited extent, Dahno—knew: to gather the worthwhile elements of the human race back together on Old Earth, shutting the Mother World away from space travel and forcing the race to give up its reckless adventuring until it grew up
...
a plan he knew would result in the slow deaths of all of the Younger Worlds, and likely the faster deaths of a lot of their people.

The alternative was to let the undisciplined, immature people who made up the human race con
tinue to be distracted from the
need to grow up by shiny dreams of future adventures—to let them continue to feel no concern for the hurts they did to others, or for the dangers that surely lay out there among the stars.

After a brief pause, she continued in a much lighter tone: "You'd have thought of it yourself. You just haven't had time to get down to the details yet."

She smiled at him.

"Shall I begin?" She uncrossed her black-trousered legs in anticipation of his response.

"Yes," he said. "No, wait—we also need to arrange transportation. Can you find out the status of both
Favored of God
and
Burning
Bush”

"I can, of course," she said, looking slightly puzzled. "It's standing orders that one of them's always available to go on eight hours' notice—are you concerned it won't be ready? Or is it that you want a particular ship?"

"I want both ships," he said.

"Both?"

"Yes," he said. "I want to travel, officially and openly, in one of them. But I want whichever one is able to get off first to precede us under a false name and papers, to be in place already on the ground, and in no way associated with us, before we ourselves get to Ceta."

"Are you expecting that much trouble? You have diplomatic immunity now, you know."

"I had immunity when we went to Newton," he pointed out, "and it didn't stop the Council from attacking me. While I'm certainly a much more important figure now, politically, the fact is I simply don't know what to expect. I don't know who those people we'll be looking for are, or what their reactions might be when they notice us sniffing around on their trail. We only managed to get off Newton because the authorities there didn't know which ship we were trying to reach when we crossed the spaceport pad, remember."

"Perhaps some of the Soldiers should go on the ship that travels— well, incognito," she suggested. "They won't be part of our official party, which could make them more useful in some situations."

"True," he said. "We'll have to get Henry's input on which ones would be best suited for that kind of job—it'll demand initiative and experience
...
in fact, I can think of several things they can be doing on the planet before we get there."

"That sounds as if you want to send some of the technical teams," she said. "Carl Carlson might be a good choice to lead that group." She was referring to Henry's second-in-command.

"No," Bleys said. "He's been with us too long."

At her questioning look, he explained: "We have to assume someone might know about the people who work most closely with us," he said. "Carl might be recognized."

"All right," she said. "I see that. But I was about to remind you that some of the Soldiers are originally from Ceta. They might be particularly useful on the first ship, since they'll blend better into the population."

"Unless they have some reason for not wanting to go back," he said. "We generally don't ask if our people have legal problems elsewhere, but those on the first ship won't be covered by my diplomatic immunity."

"Henry will be able to judge that." She nodded.

"Having Soldiers already in place undercover," Bleys went on, "will allow my 'official party,' as you put it, to be smaller. I know I need the bodyguards, but I worked hard to craft my image as a peace-loving philosopher who travels about the Younger Worlds giving common-sense talks, and I've been uncomfortable with the conflict between that image and my apparent need for guards."

"I don't think you really mean you, personally, are uncomfortable with that apparent contradiction," she said, after taking a moment to think. "I think you mean you don't like it because the need for bodyguards detracts from the message your image is crafted to present."

"Well, that's true, too," he replied. "But I did mean what I said, literally."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that appearing to be a philosopher is not exactly a lie," he said. "At least, whether I am one, or not—I'd like to be one."

"You are," she said. "You couldn't have seen the way to your mission if you weren't."