Barsk (24 page)

He spread his ears as the words of the new arrival muscled their way past both horror and denial and entered his awareness. Every book, every treatise, every paper he'd ever written and submitted for inclusion in any professional journal or conference proceedings had first been vetted by the Committee of Information. From an academician's perspective, it was the most powerful group within the governing body of the Alliance. Its twenty-five members maintained and regulated all formal education, passed judgment on all research funding, and pretty much defined the sum total of expert knowledge in existence. He had made it his business to learn about each and every one of them. Only one Yak sat on the committee; Jorl had never met the man, but he had no doubt about his identity or the power he wielded.

Judging by the subservient tone that had crept into Krasnoi's voice, the Urs understood the Bos's authority, too.

“Senator Bish, I assure you, you have not walked in on anything untoward. Rather, I am simply tying up some loose ends of this project.”

“Loose ends? I have read all of your mission briefings, Urs-Major, and I don't recall seeing anything that might account for this. There should be no
loose ends
.”

“With all due respect, sir—”

“Spare me your excuses. This entire project is a violation of the Alliance's treaty with its own member planet. You shouldn't even be here, nor I for all that. The only sapient beings permitted on Barsk are Fant. On behalf of the Committee, I set aside that prohibition very reluctantly. So you will understand if I find the need to scrutinize something you choose to describe in such a manner.”

The Yak had completed his approach as he spoke, skirting the smoldering pit where the Dying Fant had stood, slowing to study each of the Ailuros as he passed, before halting in front of Krasnoi. He stared down at Jorl.

“Speaking of Fant, this one seems distressed. Also too young, if I understood your acquisition scheme. Why is he here?” Bish paused. He turned his shaggy head with slow deliberation, an acquired habit necessary given his horns. “Again speaking of Fant, where are they?”

“I determined their usefulness had come to an end. In actual fact, as I'll be detailing in my report, hindsight reveals that they never had any information of value.”

“Hindsight? That's just lovely. We trample over these people's Compact, abduct and detain their citizens, and you're telling me you failed to learn anything useful. I also note that you've failed to answer my question. I will ask you one more time. Where are they?”

Jorl lurched up to his knees. “He killed them!”

“They were already dead,” said Krasnoi. He looked as if he might kick the Lox, but stopped short at a tight-lipped shake of the Bos's head.

“Tell me, Major, how do you kill the dead?”

“A … minor exaggeration, Senator. They were all on their way to die, would have been dead already had my people not interfered and brought them here, I—”

Quicker than Jorl had expected an old man could move, the Yak brought a hand up and pressed two fingers to the Bear's mouth.

“Shh, hush, Major. Words are precious things. Don't waste what might be the last ones you have. According to your reports, you acquired two hundred seventeen Fant. I see one remaining. Unless you correct my impression, I am to understand you have taken it upon yourself to murder the other two hundred sixteen. Do I have that right? Ah, hold a moment.” He paused and glanced back the way he'd come. “Druz, tell me you acquired all of that.”

A second arrival caught Jorl's attention. A slow-moving Brady had trailed after the Bos, catching up at last. She wore a shapeless kaftan that shifted with dark colors; lenses throughout the folds of her clothing glimmered with reflected light from the fire. “Yes, sir, it's all been recorded, both audio and video.”

The senator turned back to Krasnoi, lowering his hand from the Bear's mouth. “You were about to say?”

“With respect, sir, this is a sanctioned military action, I take offense at your use of the word
murder
.”

“You're quite right, I misspoke. I should have said mass murder.”

“Senator!”

“The Committee granted you broad discretionary authority to acquire the information we required, but that does not equate with a license for senseless slaughter.”

“They would all have been dead by now anyway! They had all chosen to die.”

The senator frowned and waved Druz closer. When the Sloth arrived at his side the Yak reached a hand down to help Jorl to his feet, and kept hold of his arm as he spoke to his aide.

“You have the Fant medical data in your system?”

“Yes, sir,” said the Brady. “Both Lox and Eleph. A moment.” She lifted her arms and passed the massive sleeves of her garment back and forth over Jorl in a languid gesture. Bits gleamed upon them. “He's in shock, sir. I also note several bruised ribs, and an unusual reading that I suspect comes from the luminescent mark on his forehead.”

Bish turned back to Jorl. “You said that the major killed your people. I need you to be clear and factual now, for the record. How do you know this thing? Did you see it yourself?”

Jorl pointed past the arc of security guards to the still-smoldering pit behind them. He struggled to keep his voice from trembling as he answered. “Right there. He gathered them up and burned them where they stood. Melted the ground out from under them, it was so hot. Can't you smell it? They're just ash and sludge now.”

“The major did it himself?”

“No,” sobbed Jorl. “The Pandas did the actual burning. But he ordered it. I was right here next to him. If you'd arrived just a bit sooner … they were all here, all still alive…”

“Take your time, Son. You've been through a lot. No one should have to see what you've witnessed.” A signal passed between the senator and his aid.

She stepped close again, bringing her right arm up, then hesitated.

“May I touch you?”

Jorl nodded, and the Brady's three-fingered hand pressed lightly against his neck. In the next instant, something shot from her sleeve, injecting him.

“What did you give me?”

“A cocktail common in traumatic situations. An analgesic for physical pain. A mnemonic marker, to make it easier for a physician to edit out your memory of this event, should you later choose to do so. And a tranquilizer to ease the experience in the here and now.” She stepped back, nodding first to him and then to the Bos as her long arm within its longer sleeve dropped back to her side.

The senator returned the nod and then focused on Jorl once more. “What's your name?”

“Jorl ben Tral.”

“Well, Jorl, although Barsk may have chosen isolation among the terms of your Compact, it is nonetheless a part of our Alliance. You've probably never given it a thought, lacking any formal representatives of your own, but I and my fellow senators were elected to serve all citizens and secure their best interests. There can be no just governance without responsibility and accountability. Isn't that right, Druz?”

The Sloth had edged closer to the Bear. She raised her hand, the left one this time, and let it rest it gingerly against Krasnoi's chest, the folds of her sleeve hanging open below her wrist. Now she lifted her chin in the beginning of a nod to indicate the major should speak.

“Senator, the situation underwent an extreme change today. There hasn't even been time to begin formulating the reports.”

Without taking his kindly eyes off Jorl, Bish responded to Krasnoi, “Summarize.”

“Our telepathic asset reviewed all of the Fant. She did it in one afternoon—”

“Impossible. Her test scores indicate she lacks the strength of will for such a thing. Lutr are too undisciplined and indolent.”

“Nevertheless, she accomplished it. Perhaps her time on the station, working on the project, taught her some steel.”

The senator seemed to consider this, the tips of his horns glinting in the snowfall. “Continue.”

“She confirmed that none of the Fant had the information we seek, but that this one has a connection to one who does, a deceased expert. I've sent her back up to the station where she can use her koph to Speak and probe him. And then we'll be done.”

“Done with what?” asked Jorl. “What are you hoping to accomplish?”

“Koph, Son,” said the senator. “The Alliance needs to control the drug Speakers use.”

“But you already do. You choose how much and where to distribute.”

“In part that's true, but we don't control its manufacture. Alliance chemists have managed to reverse engineer many of the substances that you export, but not koph. To be honest, we've barely a clue what it's made from, let alone how to do it. And it's too important to leave entirely in your hands. That's just not a position the senate can accept. But we couldn't simply come out and ask, now could we?”

“All of this, just so you could learn the refinement process to manufacture koph?”

“A bit more, actually. As chair of the committee, I instituted a team of specialist advisors, precognitivists actually. They have had visions of something more, a new drug, which we would only discover by pursuing greater knowledge of koph. That's why the major was authorized to trespass on your Compact, to stimulate the events that would allow us to acquire that knowledge. And I have to say, his initial proposal seemed solid: acquire and question Fant who would not be missed.”

“But none of them had what you wanted. None of them knew anything.” Jorl's voice cracked and he fanned his ears trying to keep the tears from his eyes, not caring if it offended or upset the senator.

“But you do. I have that right, Major? Jorl here has that knowledge?”

“Indirectly, sir. He knows the dead Fant who knows.”

“That's good. That's very good. Now take a deep breath, Jorl. Have the medications calmed you enough? I need you to understand very clearly what I'm about to tell you.” Senator Bish gently wiped a finger under each of Jorl's eyes, drying his face.

“But he—”

“I'll deal with him in a moment; you have my word. But this must come first. You heard me say that the senate must be responsible to the entire Alliance. That's why I'm here now, even though it's against the law established by your Compact. This is just one planet, albeit it's turned out to be an important one. And the Fant, both Eleph and Lox, combine to barely a million people. It's wrong for you to hold thousands of other planets and hundreds of billions of other people hostage to your own desires. I hope you can appreciate that; you seem like a reasonable young man. So I want to be clear, Son. I will have that knowledge from you. It's more important than you or me or even this entire planet. Pursuing the secret of koph will lead to the greatest good for the Alliance. No sacrifice is too great, no action too extreme. I would authorize the extermination of your entire race if it served this higher need.”

Jorl blinked. He felt buoyed up by a vast and artificial serenity that wouldn't let him react emotionally to what he'd just heard. He believed his reply, but didn't feel it. “That's insane!”

“Not at all. It is a thoroughly reasoned and responsible decision. I regret that you cannot see it as such, but that does not change things in the least. The events you witnessed today make it clear that I need to take a more direct hand if we're to accomplish anything. That begins now, with you. You need to comprehend that I am utterly serious when I tell you that
nothing
is more vital to me. If you do not willingly provide what I require, I'm prepared to wipe out your people, island by island, until you do.”

Bish patted Jorl's cheek and turned back to Krasnoi.

“Just as you have failed to appreciate how grossly you've exceeded your authority. I don't pretend to understand Fant culture or their preference for geriatric suicide, but I do know that it involves a choosing of both place and time. Is it fair to say that none of the planetary residents you acquired selected this location and hour?”

“That's not the point.”

“Indeed not, nor I suppose is it that you wouldn't choose here and now either, but the situation demands accountability, and perhaps a touch of symmetry.” His right hand reached into his robes; when he withdrew it, a ring of platinum and fossilized wood gleamed on one finger, the sigil of the Committee of Information. He held the hand in front of him and nodded to his assistant. “Druz?”

The Sloth had waited immobile as the senator spoke, her fingers spread across Krasnoi's chest. She began speaking in a breathless rush, like an actor in a play that has run overlong who now seeks to catch up on the time. “This day, on the authority of Senator Bish, chair of the Committee of Information—”

“What are you doing?”

Something shot out from her sleeve and pierced Krasnoi's clothing and fur below the spot where the Brady pressed against his chest.

“—You are discharged from service, now and ever more.”

Urs-Major Krasnoi bent at the knees and staggered, pulling away from the senator's aide. A trio of gleaming metal talons extended just beyond her fingertips for an instant before vanishing back within her clothes. The Bear's eyes bulged as he fell back onto the snowy ground, dead.

“You and you,” Bish pointed at the two nearest Ailuros. “See to this body and carry it to my personal ship. Druz, take charge of cleaning up this mess. I want any sign that we were ever here to be gone.”

“Yes, sir. I will have all materiel stowed in one of the station's warehouses until it can be properly processed.”

“That's fine. Speaking of the station, inform them we will be arriving soon and that I expect to meet with the telepath there.”

“And me?” asked Jorl. “What is your plan for me?”

The Yak gazed down at him, his eyes as warm as a loving grandfather. “You, Son, will accompany me, as my guest of course. We'll continue our discussion as two intelligent and civilized men. I hope we can come to an accord for the greater good of the Alliance's citizens, but if not, I can promise you that many more Fant will die.”