“The director’s schedule listed her as vacationing on her home world this past week,” one of the data collectors called out. “Now we learn she was traveling to Earth. What can you tell us about why she chose to make a personal visit to this unaligned world, and why the trip was kept secret?”
“Right now I can tell you very little,” Junup said. “There are some indications that the director was in the region to negotiate a new and lasting peace accord with the Phandic Empire, but I have yet to see the relevant documentation.”
I was pretty sure that was a lie, but I guessed it was an explanation that Junup liked better than that the leader of the Confederation had decided to visit my planet because she needed me.
“Why is Ezekiel Reynolds here on Confederation Central?” asked another data collector. “If Director Ghli Wixxix went to Earth, then we must presume she chose to bring him and the other Earth beings with her.”
“Again,” Junup said, “the director’s intentions are not clear. I can tell you that the existing ship’s logs indicate the presence of a stowaway on board. It is likely that all of these humans were stowaways, but again, their role in the destruction of the Kind Disposition is yet to be determined, and it is premature to conclude that they deliberately destroyed the ship.”
“As you know,” another data collector said, “our constitution requires an interim director to stand before procedural committee within ten days in order to have the position confirmed. No doubt that committee will request a formal inquiry into the destruction of the Kind Disposition. Are you at all uneasy about what they will discover?”
“I am uneasy that one of our ships has been destroyed. I have lost a friend, and I have lost a nephew. I mourn for the many beings I did not personally know. While the facts of this case may be disturbing, I certainly wish them to be revealed.”
Another data collector stepped forward. “There are rumors that you personally oversaw the staffing of the Kind Disposition, favoring heavily beings who belong to your Movement for Peace. Could the ship being manned by an unskilled crew have played a role in its destruction?”
“It is hardly my movement,” Junup said, putting a hairy hand to his chest, “though I certainly understand its apprehension about the influence of primitive species on our society. As for the personnel change, such shifts are normal and entirely within standard practice.”
“Ezekiel Reynolds!” one of the data collectors shouted. “What do you have to say for yourself? Have you destroyed yet another ship?”
Junup held up a cautioning hand. “I’ve advised these aliens not to speak to any data collectors until more verifiable facts become available. It is for their own protection—so they don’t incriminate themselves, you understand. Please respect that. Obviously this is a delicate issue. Some have called Ezekiel a heinous villain. Others have pronounced him a hapless bumbler. I believe the truth lies somewhere between these two extremes.”
Always the moderate, I thought.
“Regardless of his past mistakes, indiscretions, humiliations, and crimes,” Junup continued, “I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge that his actions have played some small role in the recent peace that we have come to enjoy within our society. More importantly, his home planet was the site of the turning point in a long and disagreeable ideological conflict with the Phandic Empire, a conflict that, after many decades, has come to a conclusion. Because the bounty of peace has grown within the soil of his blunders, I believe we must not condemn him without first possessing all the facts.”
I know you don’t much care for this Junup thing, Smelly said, but I am coming to respect it. It is quite cunning for a primitive pouch of biological ooze.
“Then why don’t you move into his brain?” I asked, trying not to move my lips. I didn’t want to look like a crazy person in front of the entire Confederation. I’d have to settle for looking like a murderous stowaway instead.
Yes, I think this Junup is a superior example of its kind. And like all superior beings, its true greatness will only show when it is tested. That is why I have overridden your dampening field. You may speak if you wish.
I felt a grin spread across my face, but I realized that Junup was speaking, linking my alleged actions with the destruction of the Kind Disposition, and anyone watching me—a category that almost certainly would include billions—would think I was pleased with myself. I killed the grin.
“Surely Ezekiel Reynolds would like to defend himself against such allegations,” one of the data collectors shouted when Junup finished his latest rant.
“Again,” Junup said, “I have advised them not to speak. It is my concern that they cannot defend themselves without lying, and it can do us no good to have more untruths circulating.”
Hluh now shouldered her way forward. “Ezekiel Reynolds contacted me directly,” she announced, “and claimed that there was a mutiny—”
“There is no evidence to support that rumor,” Junup interrupted her. “I understand that it is being alleged that the entire crew conspired against the director, and as my nephew was part of the crew, I take this accusation as a personal insult to my family’s honor. I also wish to emphasize that we cannot yet confirm the rumors of some sort of primitive bomb, such as might have been manufactured on Ezekiel Reynolds’s home world, aboard the Kind Disposition.”
“The sabotage,” I shouted, “was in manning the ship with an untrained crew whose purpose was to take control away from Captain Hyi!”
Junup stared at me, the whites of his eyes suddenly pink. Everything about his expression implied that he wanted me to shut up, but I’d had enough of being quiet for one day. I knew I was probably digging myself in deeper, but it was hard to overestimate my satisfaction from seeing the look of shock on his goaty face.
“Nayana Gehlawat,” I said, and then paused, giving them time to hear her name. To really hear it. “Urch,” I continued. “They were my friends. I can’t claim friendship with either Captain Hyi or Director Ghli Wixxix because I didn’t know them long or well enough, but I liked and admired both of them. These were good and honorable beings, and I will tell you right now that they were murdered when—”
That was as far as I got. I’d seen it from the corner of my eye, and some part of my brain was quietly urging caution, but I was too focused on what I wanted to say, so I ignored the looming shadow. It was the narrow-bodied peace officer I’d seen before, or at least a member of the same species. If it was the same being, he had changed out of his uniform and was now wearing something that hugged his body, making it seem even more slight. The bulkiest thing about him was the PPB pistol, pointed directly at me.
Before I could react, another shadow crossed my vision. It was large and shelled and shaggy. Junup hurled himself forward, pushing me to the ground just as the would-be assassin fired his pistol. The energy blast missed us entirely and instead slammed against a wall. Bricks exploded in dust and small chunks, but it was clear to me that no one was hurt.
I turned back to the attacker, but he was already fleeing, twisting easily into the crowds and between bodies. The peace officers who lumbered after him had to get individual beings to move, so they really had no chance.
Meanwhile Junup was pushing himself off me. I didn’t know how to read goat-turtle expressions in general, but I knew he was incredibly pleased with himself. By the time I got to my feet, he was already trying to calm the crowd.
“I am unharmed,” he announced. “Is anyone injured? Does anyone require medical intervention?”
It seemed no one had been hurt, and that was good. Junup raised up a hand and said that, under the circumstances, there would be no more statements for the day. The room was now a crime scene, and he asked the peace officers to escort the data collectors from the premises. The news conference was over, and it had ended with Junup demonstrating his willingness to risk his life for someone he had every reason to dislike and who had probably killed his nephew. Junup had just made himself a hero.
• • ??
?
A group of peace officers led us back to the secure room and locked us inside. At first we were all too shaken and surprised to speak, but it was Colonel Rage who broke the ice.
“This Junup plays a deep game,” he said.
I nodded.
“Then the attempt on your life was false?” Charles asked.
“Of course it was,” Alice said. “He arranged for a fake assassin so he could save Zeke’s life. That way it makes him look like a hero, and no one doubts that he really wants to do the right thing.”
“Looks like you’re up on Confederation politics,” Mi Sun said. “Pretty good for someone whose never been here before and knows nothing about this place.”
Alice shrugged. “It just seemed obvious.”
“Let’s all keep calm,” Colonel Rage said. “I know we’re an incredible distance from our home, and we’ve been branded as criminals by a corrupt and power-hungry politician who hates Zeke and is not shy about committing murder, but . . .”
He trailed off, which was not a good sign.
“What’s our play?” the colonel asked me.
“Why is that for me to decide?” I sputtered. “I thought you were in command.”
“I’ll advise you as best I can,” Colonel Rage said, “but I may be out of my depth. You know this culture better than I do, and it seems that whatever is going on, you’re at the center of it.”
“Again,” Mi Sun said with a sigh.
“Fine,” I snapped, and then began to think about it. “I have allies in the Confederation, but I’m not sure they’re in a position to help us. The only beings we can count on are the data collectors—the reporters. Hluh and her colleagues know our side of the story, and they’re not stupid. Junup won’t be able to do anything too drastic with the whole Confederation watching, so for now we bide our time.”
“Until?” Mi Sun asked.
“I don’t know. We’re going to have to make this up as we go along.”
The Hidden Fortress, Smelly said. That’s your plan. Ghli Wixxix wanted you to go there, and clearly Junup does not. As near as I can tell, that means you need to go.
I had no idea if Smelly was right or not, but it always felt satisfying to do what Junup didn’t want me to, even if it got me into deeper trouble. Besides, everyone was demanding I come up with a plan, and that was as good as any.
“I think I know what we need to do,” I said.
That, however, was as far as I got before the door opened and Junup walked in. He did not close the door behind him, but two peace officers stood guard, their backs to us.
“Nicely played,” I said to him.
“Is that how you thank me from saving your life after one of the countless billions who hate you decided to act on reasonable emotions?” He folded his arms and gave me, I supposed, the goat-turtle equivalent of a smirk.
“Cut the bull,” the colonel barked at him. “I want to know what you plan do with these children.”
“These children,” Junup said with a sneer, “have accused me of murder and treason, which means that they can’t go anywhere until the truth of what happened to the Kind Disposition is resolved to the public’s satisfaction—and to my own.”
“Any ‘truth’ that satisfies you,” the colonel said, “will also have to exonerate you of any wrongdoing, which means you’ll need to pin the blame elsewhere.”
Junup held out his furry hands in a gesture of surrender. “I only seek to find out what happened. I trust you do not fear such a search.”
“Not if it’s conducted honestly,” the colonel said, but his tone made it clear that he had no faith in any inquiry Junup might arrange.
“Well, then,” Junup said, “I see we have our work cut out for us. For now I think it’s best if we move you to the government compound. I’m assigning a special escort to oversee your safety, and to make sure you don’t have any unfortunate encounters with beings who might disrupt our search for the truth. He will be my representative in my absence, and any questions or requests can be delivered to him. I hope, quite frankly, to see you as little as possible from this point forward.”
With a theatrical flourish, Junup turned and strode out of the room, his cape billowing behind him. We all looked at one another, not knowing what to expect next. Then the two peacekeepers by the door parted and allowed a new being to enter the room.
Of the three beings I hated most in the galaxy, I’d already had run-ins with two of them: Junup, of course, and Ms. Price on the Phandic ship. Here was the third, but this was a being I’d never expected to see again, even on Confederation Central. He stood there—tall, muscular and confident—in a well-tailored Confederation suit, a black Movement for Peace band around one arm. He had a smug look on his handsome face. There was no mistaking his satisfaction.
It was Ardov.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
* * *
Ardov had always carried himself arrogantly, but there was something different about him now. He had a smugness in his swagger that made the old Ardov seem humble by comparison. I couldn’t tell what it was. He looked exactly like I remembered him—brownish fur, short whiskers, self-satisfied expression—but he also looked different in ways I could not explain. I’d always disliked him, and I’d even been afraid of him, but now he seemed more menacing than ever.
“What are you doing here!” Mi Sun was already on her feet, pointing at Ardov like they’d been bitter enemies. It wasn’t the case, though. Not exactly. She hadn’t much cared for Tamret, during most of our time on Confederation Central, and conflicts among the Rarels had been of little interest to her. She hadn’t even born much of a grudge after he’d beaten her so badly in the fighting sim that she’d ended up in the hospital. Now it was different. It was us against them, and Ardov was a them. “I thought you went back home with the other Rarels.”
Ardov shrugged. “Junup decided he wanted me to stick around. He pulled me off my shuttle before it departed and made me an offer, which I accepted. Now here I am, helping him out. Which means I’m now helping you out. The interim director has assigned me to take care of you.”
“I’m getting the feeling you all know this, uh, cat person,” the colonel said to me.
I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing constructive was going to come out, so I closed it again. This marked a major development in my maturity, I thought.
“He was part of the delegation from a planet called Rarel,” Charles explained. “He was rather a bully.”
“Explains why the interim director took a shine to him,” the colonel observed.
“Maybe we should forget what happened before,” Ardov said. “Let’s start over fresh.” He walked over to me and looked down from his superior height.
I didn’t know how to read his tone. Was he actually trying to be reasonable with me? If so, I would be the bad guy if I refused to bury the hatchet. On the other hand, I couldn’t forget, or forgive, the way he had treated Tamret, and with her coming to the station, I didn’t want to show any signs of weakness now—particularly since neither of us was going to have augmented skills to help us against Ardov’s superior strength. I’d seen the guy fight, and he was pretty much unstoppable even without a technological edge.
In case you were wondering, Smelly told me, I detect no signs of sincerity in this hairy container of moisture. I believe it means you harm—and therefore, by extension, me. I don’t like things that mean me harm.
I felt myself relax slightly. It was no picnic having Ardov as an enemy, but it beat not knowing what to make of him at all. Now I had a handle on where I stood. I liked that, even if where I stood was no place anyone would ever want to be standing.
“Sure, Ardov,” I said. “Let’s start over.”
And, the two of us having just lied to each other, we were ready to move on.
• • •
Ardov ushered us out of the transportation hub and loaded us onto a shuttle. There was no doubt he had picked up some polish in the past year, but even without Sm
elly’s insights, I would never have trusted him. He’d been a bad kid before he’d gone to work for Junup; I didn’t see how that particular association could possibly have made him any less bad. Besides, why would Junup have plucked him off that shuttle if he hadn’t liked Ardov’s cruelty and inclination to violence? Maybe that was the point—to have a mean, remorseless non-Confederation type around to do his dirty work. Even so, Ardov had to have something going for him other than a cruel streak if Junup was going to hire an alien equivalent of a middle school kid to be his fixer.
No one said much on the ride over. We all looked out the windows at the city below, especially Alice and Colonel Rage, who had never seen Confederation Central before. Charles, Mi Sun, and I were veterans, but we still stared like country bumpkins in the big city. The huge, glittering skyscrapers, the sprawling parks, the expanses of residential houses, and the forests and deserts in the far distance—they hadn’t lost any of their magic.
We touched down at the compound landing pad and climbed out of the shuttle. The campus looked exactly like I remembered it from the last visit, except that now there were far more black-uniformed peace officers than I recalled—and most of them had Movement for Peace armbands. There were the generally squat buildings separated by walkways and lawns of purple grass.
“Do you know what the guys with the armbands are like?” Charles asked me as we walked among them to our building. “Do you recall the Nightwatch from Babylon Five?”
I nodded. The Nightwatch was just like the Movement for Peace: an organization within the military and law enforcement, meant to keep an eye on alien influence but really just a front for bullies and thugs who wanted an excuse to hurt others and feel powerful. “It’s a good point. But don’t try to outdork me.”
“Or that original-series Star Trek episode,” he continued.
“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “‘Patterns of Force.’ Season two, episode nineteen, I think. Late in the season, anyhow. What did I just say about outdorking me?”