“Back,” he said, stopping, pointing back toward where maman was.
She gave him a nasty smile. “I don’t have to.”
He looked upset then. And he got very quiet, looking down at her. “Ari, that’s not nice, is it?”
“I don’t have to be nice.”
“I’d like you better.”
That hurt. She stared up at him to see if he was being nasty, but he did not look like it. He looked as if he was the hurt one.
She could not figure him. Everybody, but not him. She just stared.
“Can I go with you?” she asked.
“Your maman wouldn’t like it.” He had a kind face when he talked like that. “Go on back.”
“I don’t want to. They just talk. I’m tired of them talking.”
“Well, I’ve got to go meet my people, Ari. I’m sorry.”
“There aren’t any people,” she said, calling his bluff, because he had not been going anywhere until she bothered him.
“Well, I still have to. You go on back.”
She did not. But he walked away down the hall like he was really going somewhere.
She wished she could. She wished he would be nice. She was bored and she was unhappy and when she saw him she remembered the glittery people and everybody being happy, but she could not remember when that was.
Only then Ollie had been there all the time and maman had been so pretty and she had played with Valery and gotten the star that hung in her bedroom.
She walked back to ser Peterson’s office very slow. Kyle didn’t even notice. She sat down and she drew a star. And thought about Valery. And the red-haired man, who was Grant. Who was Justin’s.
She wished Ollie and maman had more time for her.
She wished maman would come out. And they would go to lunch. Maybe Ollie could come.
But maman did not come anytime soon, so she drew lines all over the star and made it ugly.
Like everything.
vi
The documents show, the report came to Mikhail Corain’s desk, the operation involved a clandestine military operation and the landing of 40,000 Union personnel, the majority of them azi. The mission was launched in 2355, as a Defense operation.
There was no further support given the colony. The operation was not sustained.
The best intelligence Alliance has mustered says that there are thousands of survivors who have devolved to a primitive lifestyle. Beyond question they are descended of azi and citizens. The assumption is that they had no rejuv and that after sixty years the survivors must be at least second and third generation. There are ruins of bubble-construction and a solar power installation. The world is extremely hospitable to human life and the survivors are in remarkably good health considering the conditions, practicing basic agriculture and hunting. The Alliance reports express doubt that the colonists can be removed from the world. The ecological damage is as yet undetermined, but there is apparently deep penetration of the colony into the ecosystem, and certain of the inhabitants have retreated into areas not easily accessible. It is the estimate of Alliance that the inhabitants would not welcome removal from the world and Alliance does not intend to remove the colony, for whatever reason.
The estimation within the Defense Bureau is that Alliance is interested in interviewing the survivors. Defense however will oppose any proposal to retrieve these Union nationals as an operation which Alliance will surely reject and which would be in any case counter-productive.
The azi were primarily but not exclusively from Reseune military contracts.
See attached reports.
The majority of citizens were military personnel.
Nye will offer a bill expressing official regret and an offer of cooperation to the Alliance in dealing with the colonists.
The Expansionist coalition will be unanimous in that vote.
Corain flipped through the reports. Pages of them. There was a sub-sapient on the world the colonists called Gehenna. There were a great many things that said Defense Bureau, and Information Unavailable.
There was no way in hell Alliance or Union was going to be able to retrieve the survivors, for one thing because they were scattered into the bush and mostly because (according to Alliance) they were illiterate primitives and Alliance was going to resist any attempt to remove them, that much was clear in the position the Alliance ambassador was taking.
Alliance was damned mad about the affair, because it had been confronted with a major and expensive problem: an Earth-class planet in its own sphere of influence with an ecological disaster and an entrenched, potentially hostile colony.
So was Corain angry about it, for reasons partly ethical and partly political outrage: Defense had overstepped itself, Defense had covered this mess up back in the war years, when (as now) Defense was in bed with Reseune and gifted with a blank credit slip.
And if Corain could manage it, there was going to be a light thrown on the whole Expansionist lunacy.
vii
Gorodin—was not accessible. That was not entirely a disaster, in Giraud Nye’s estimation. Secretary of Defense Lu had sat proxy so often in the last thirty years he had far more respect on Council and far more latitude in voting his own opinion than a proxy was supposed to have, the same way the Undersecretary of Defense virtually merged his own staff with Lu’s and Gorodin’s on-planet office: it was in effect a troika at the top of Defense and had been, de facto, since the war years.
And in Giraud’s unvoiced opinion it was better that the proxy was in and Gorodin was somewhere classified and inaccessible at the other end of Union space: Lu, his face a map of wise secrets as rejuv declined, his dark eyes difficult even for a veteran of Reseune to cipher, was playing his usual game of no authority to answer that and I don’t feel I should comment, while reporters clamored for information and Corain called for full disclosure.
Full disclosure it had to be, at least among political allies.
And Giraud had heard enough to upset his stomach all the way from Reseune to this sound-secure office, the sound-screening working at his nerves and setting his teeth off.
“It is absolutely true,” Lu said, without reference to the folio that lay under his hands. “The mission was launched in 2355; it reached the star in question and dropped the colonists and the equipment. There was never any intention to return. At the time, we knew that the world was there. We knew that Alliance knew, that it was within their reach, or Earth’s, and by the accident of its position and its potential—it would be of major importance.” Lu cleared his throat. “We knew we couldn’t hold it in practicality, we couldn’t defend it, we couldn’t supply it. We did in fact purpose to remove it from profitability.”
Remove it from profitability. Alliance had sent a long-prepared and careful survey to the most precious find yet in near space—and found it, to its consternation, inhabited, inhabited by humans not their own and not plausibly Earth’s—leaving the absolutely undeniable conclusion, even without the ruined architecture and the fact that the survivors were azi-descended—
Union had sabotaged a living planet.
“Forty thousand people,” Giraud said, feeling an emptiness at the pit of his stomach. “Dropped onto an untested planet. Just like that.”
Lu blinked. Otherwise he might have been a statue. “They were military; they were expendables. It was not, you understand, my administration. Nor was there, in those days, the—sensitivity to ecological concerns. So far as anyone then was reckoning, we were in a difficult military position, we had to reckon that a Mazianni strike at Cyteen was a possibility. There were two possibilities in such a move: first, the colony would survive and maintain Union principles should we meet with disaster, should Earth have launched some suicide mission at Cyteen itself. The secrecy of the colony was important in that consideration.”
“It was launched in 2355,” Giraud said. “A year after the war ended.”
Lu folded his hands. “It was planned in the closing years of the war, when th
ings were uncertain. It was executed after we had been confronted with general calamity, and that disastrous treaty. It was a hole card, if you like. To let either Earth or Alliance have a world potentially more productive than Cyteen—would have been disastrous. That was the second part of the plan: if the colony should perish, it would still contribute its microorganisms to the ecology. And in less than a century—present Alliance or whatever new owner—with a difficult problem, which our science could handle and theirs couldn’t. I might say—some native microorganisms were even—engineered to accept our own engineered contributions. At your own facility. As I’m sure your records will say. Not mentioning the azi and the tape-tailoring.”
“You’re damn right the records show it.” Giraud found his breath difficult. “My God, we never knew the thing was actually launched! You know what kind of a security problem we’ve got? This isn’t the 2350s. We’re not at war. Your damn little timebomb’s gone off in a century when we’ve got aliens stirred up on Sol’s far side, we’ve got ecological treaties—we’ve got our own position, for God’s sake, on ecological responsibility, the genebanks, the arks, the—”
“It was, of course, the architect of the genebanks and the treaty and the arks who actually administered Reseune during the development of the Gehenna colony. Councillor Emory was signatory to all contracts with Defense.”
“—the Abolitionists, my God, we’ve handed them the best damn issue they could have dreamed of! It was a study project. God, Jordan Warrick’s father worked on those Gehenna tapes.”
“We trust Reseune security procedures didn’t tell the project members what they were working on.”
“Trust, hell! It’s on the news, general. The news gets to Planys, eventually. You want to gamble Jordan Warrick won’t know who in what department might have been working on those tapes, and what names and what specifics to hand to investigators if they get to him?”
“Damage his own father’s reputation?”
“To protect his father’s reputation, dammit; and blast Reseune’s. You spent forty thousand azi to sabotage a planet, for God’s sake, you linked the research to the Science Bureau, and it couldn’t have picked a worse time to surface.”
“Oh,” Lu said quietly, “I can imagine worse times than this. This is a quiet time, a time when humanity—especially Alliance—has many other worries. In fact Gehenna’s done exactly what it was designed to do: there is ecological calamity, Alliance is holding off development. The course of development of the Alliance has been irrevocably altered: if they absorb that population they will absorb an ethnically unique community with Union values, if you believe in the validity of your own taped instructions. In any case, we forestalled either Alliance or Earth getting a very valuable resource—and a stepping-stone to further stars. Now Alliance will either track down a scattered lot of primitives and remove them by force—a logistic nightmare—or Alliance will have to take them into account in its own settlement of the world. If they choose to settle. Intelligence informs us they’re having second thoughts. They perceive a possible difficulty if they entangle themselves with this—ground-bound culture. There was always a vocal opposition to their colonization effort. The spacers who are far and away the majority in Alliance are quite doubtful about any move that puts power in the hands of the ground-bound—blue-skyers, as spacers call them, and a pre-industrial constituency—or another, much more problematical protectorate—is more than the Council of Captains wants to take on…not mentioning of course, their science bureau, which bids fair to study it to death, while the construction companies scheduled to build a station there are holding off their creditors. The Alliance ambassador demands information for their Science people and an apology; cheap at the price. There’ll be a little coolness—ultimately cooperation. I assure you, they’re much more scared at what Sol has poked into than we are—only natural considering they’re much closer to the problem. All in all, it’s an excellent time for it to surface: we watched their preparations, we weren’t taken by surprise—that’s why Adm. Gorodin is inaccessible, as it happens. We knew this was coming.”
“And kept it from us!”
Lu maintained an icy little silence. Then: “Us—meaning Science; or us, meaning Reseune?”
“Us, Reseune, dammit! Reseune has an interest in this!”
“A past interest,” Lu said. “The child is far from adult. She can ride out this storm. Emory is beyond reach of any law, unless you are religious. Let them subpoena a few documents. Warrick is in quarantine, thoroughly discredited as far as testimony before the Council might go. If his father was working on the project, it can only harm the Warrick name. What is there to concern Reseune?”
Giraud shut his mouth. He was sweating. Bogdanovitch was dead four years ago, Harad of Fargone was in the seat of State and making common cause with Gorodin of Defense and deFranco of Trade, and Lao of Information. Damn them. The Expansionist coalition held firm, the Abolitionists were in retreat and Corain and the Centrists had lost ground, losing Gorodin to the Expansionist camp where he had always belonged, but Nasir Harad, damn him, snuggled close to Gorodin, the source of the fat Defense contracts for his station, and State and Defense and Information were the coalition within the Expansionist coalition—the secret bedfellows.
Reseune did not have the influence it had had. That was the bitter truth Giraud had to live with. It gave him stomach upsets and kept him awake at night. But Ari had been—so far as they understood—unique.
“Let me tell you,” Giraud said, “there are things within our files which are very sensitive. We do not want them released. More, we don’t want any chance of Warrick being called out of Planys to testify. You don’t understand how volatile that situation is. He has to be kept quiet. His recall of small detail, things he might have heard, things he might have discussed with his father down the years—will be far better than you or I want. His memory is extremely exact. If you don’t want Alliance to be able to unravel what you’ve done in specific detail, keep Warrick quiet, can I be more clear?”
“Are you saying present administration can be compromised?”
Dangerous question. Dangerous interest. Giraud took another breath. “I’m only asking you to listen to me. Before you discover that the threads of this lead, yes, under closed doors. You want the Rubin project blown to hell—you let Warrick get loose, and there won’t be a Rubin project.”
“Sometimes we’re not sure there is a Rubin project,” Lu said acidly, “since RESEUNESPACE has yet to do more than minor work. Tests, you say. Data collation. Is there a director?”
“There is a director. We’re about to transfer the bank. It’s not a small operation. This inquiry is not going to help us. We’re strained as it is. There’s an enormous amount of data involved. That’s the nature of the process. We are in operation. We have been in operation for six years. We do not intend to waste resources in a half-hearted effort, general.” Damn. It’s a tactic. Distract and divert. “The point is Warrick. The point is that the Planys facility is under your security and we have to rely on it. We hope we can rely on it.”
“Absolutely. As we hope to rely on your cooperation on the Gehenna matter, Councillor Nye.”
Blackmail. Plain and simple. He saw Harad’s hand in this. “To what extent?”
“Agreement to cooperate with Alliance scientists. We’ll swear it was a lost operation, one concealed behind the secrecies of war. Something no one knew had been done. No one in office now. That a communications screw-up saw it launched.”
“Ariane Emory’s name has to be kept out of it.”
“I don’t think that’s possible. Let the dead bear the onus of responsibility. The living have far more at stake. I assure you—far more at stake. We want to keep an active channel into this situation on Gehenna. Descendants of Union citizens are still legally our citizens. If we choose to take that view. We may not. In any case—Science should be interested in the impact on the ecology; and the social system. We stand to gain nothing by withhol
ding an apparent cooperation. Not the actual content of the tapes, to be sure. But at least the composition of the colony, the ratio of military personnel to azi. The personal histories of some of the military. Conn, for instance. Distinguished service. They should have some recognition, after all these years,”
Sentiment. Good God.
“Reseune,” Giraud said, “equally values Emory’s distinguished record.”
“I’m afraid that part will get out. The azi, you know. Once the public knows that, there’s hardly any way you can hide it. But damage control is already in operation. State is onto it.”
“Harad knew about this operation?”
“It does fall within State’s area of responsibility. Science doesn’t make foreign policy. Our obligation in that consideration is quite different. I do urge you to think—what your contracts are worth. We do not contract primarily with Bucherlabs. We continue to work with you. We continue to support RESEUNESPACE—even at a cost disadvantage. We expect that relationship to be a mutually satisfactory one—one we hope we can continue.”
“I see,” Giraud said bitterly. “I see.” And after a breath or two: “Ser Secretary, we need that data protected—for more than a dead woman’s reputation. To keep Council from blowing this wide open—and destroying any chance of success.”
“Now you want our help. You want me to throw myself and my Bureau on the grenade. Is that it?—Let me explain to you, ser, we have other considerations right now, primarily among them a rampant anti-militarism that’s feeding on this scandal as it is—which is a critical danger to our national defense, at a time when we’re already under budget constraints, at a time when we can’t get the ships we need and we can’t get the problem of expanded perimeters through the heads of the public or the opposition of Finance in Council. We have a major problem, ser, your project has become a sink into which money goes and nothing emerges, and, dammit, you want us to stand and shield you from inquiry while you refuse our requests for records. I suggest you defend yourself, ser—with Reseune’s well-known resources. Maybe it’s time to bring this project of yours put. Make a choice. Give me a reason I can use to maintain that data as Classified—or give me the records I need.”