Counter-Measures

  Communicate! the call of the Others insisted. "I am here."

  Have you destroyed the humans?

  "Not yet. I am still waiting to see if they will destroy themselves-and me."

  How can they destroy you?

  "In ways beyond your comprehension."

  Sinklar sat in the comm. dome, meeting Kaylla Dawn's powerful gaze in the monitor. The privacy field blanked the chatter and hum of the building.

  Sinklar had only a vague

  awareness of the other personnel in the building, his mind knotted on the problem of Staffa, the machine, and the gloomy future.

  "This time was worse than last. He barely made it to the top of the stairs before he had to sit down and hold his head. He said he wanted to throw up. "

  Kaylla nodded, her shoulder-length hair swinging. "That's pretty common. I've never heard of anyone being under the machine and not being affected. Bruen managed the best, but his entire brain wasn't probed. " Her mouth tightened.

  "And what did he say?"

  "Not much. He was terribly preoccupied. His control, well, you know how he's always so self-possessed?"

  "I'm familiar with that, yes."

  "All the defenses were dropped. He's worried, Magister. Scared." And so am L "Maybe we should try to talk him out of this, pour all of our efforts into the Farhome project. "

  "We canit. " She looked weary, with dark circles under her eyes. "Staffa gave first priority to Dee Wall and the engineering department here. They're working feverishly on gravitational physics. Something to do with gravity generation on a large scale. Rumors are running rampant."

  She smiled wryly. "They really believe they can break the Forbidden Borders.

  Ships have been shuttling back and forth from the frontier to take readings and run experiments. They've tied up the computers to the point we're running projections on hand units. It seems that if the Lord Commander says we can break the barriers, everyone on Itreata believes it's as good as done."

  Sinklar rubbed his nose. "Then we had better hope he's right. "

  "What is your opinion, Sinklar? How do you read the situation from Targa9-He sighed, shoulders slumping. "I really don't know, Magister. I'm worried stiff about Staffa."

  She read his hesitation. "I'm not Bruen, Sinklar. The Seddi lost their values during that time. To date I haven't lost mine-even when they snapped a collar around my neck and threw me into the desert to die."

  "Who were Koree and Peebal? "

  "Two innocent Maikan men that Staffa condemned into slavery. They worked with us in the desert. Peebal was a warm, tender man frail as cracked glass but possessed of an inner strength I still admire. He made this." She lifted a shining gold necklace with a jeweled locket. "He made this. Gave it to Staffa when he died.

  -Koree was a professor of human behavior at the Maikan University. He and Staffa talked philosophy in the desert. Peebal gave Staffa the locket to give to me. Koree gave Staffa the first ethical direction and philosophical foundation he'd ever had beyond war. Koree died in the cave-in that would have killed me but for Staffa's quick action.

  "He murdered your family."

  "Sinklar, you must understand. I can never forgive him, any more than you could forgive Bruen. Staffa has never asked for forgiveness. He knows that is impossible. What drives him is atonement-and that's very different from forgiveness. Now, do you want to tell me what has stirred your wariness? "

  Sinklar stared into those acute eyes, trying to take the measure of a woman with a soul as hard and scintillating as cut diamond. "He's obsessed. Driven.

  Frightened and fascinated by the machine. On the way down to the Mag Comm's chamber, he almost raced down the stairway. He was nervous. Jumpy. Not like the Staffa I've come to know. " "Yes, I've seen him like that. In the desert.

  "

  "Go on. It might be important." And IV like to hear your side of the story.

  "We were both on the same labor gang. Staffa worked like a man possessed.

  The first few days, I thought he'd kill himself. An ordinary man would have died in that heat, struggling like that. I mean both physically and mentally.

  Brooding, punishing himself. At the time he was driven by anger and frustration." She paused. "I don't think he's really changed. The emotions were just internalized. As you say, controlled. "

  "But just as powerful?"'

  "Staffa is power. Intellectually and physically. He will not be defeated, no matter who the adversary is. Even when the adversary is himself. "'

  "An attitude like that can be dangerous

  "We've talked about atonement. We live in dangerous times, and Staffa is betting himself against the future."' Her

  fingers tapped on the console before her. "Have you ... Are you worried that he might be under the machine's sway? "

  "I don't know what to think anymore. I'm not ready to relieve him of command yet, if that's what's worrying you." "Did he say anything else?"

  "It was broken, almost raving, but he said I needed to tell you that Penzer Atassi must be removed from the Governorship of Antillies. He's hatched some scheme to barter titanium production for political clout and food shipments.

  It doesn't mean anything to me. Does it to you?"

  She paused, thoughtful. "Yes. It would explain some of the reports coming in from our agents on Antillies. Did he say how we're supposed to march in and do this?"

  "According to Staffa, Admiral Jakre has a ship there somewhere. "

  "I think he does. Very well, I'll contact the Admiral and see to it."

  "You're taking him at his word? What if it's a ploy by the machine?"

  "We'll check it, of course. He was right about the Nesian dye futures. We'd missed it completely. The reports from Antillies simply mentioned that Atassi was jockeying for position. Since the conquest, every minor politician in Free Space is doing the same. That leaves us with the task of trying to monitor almost ten thousand politicians with Imperial aspirations. "

  Her gaze went blank. "Fortunately, the fleets are dispersed to most planets.

  And your people and the Companions are mostly self-sufficient. The Sassans on the other hand, are driving Jakre half insane wanting clearance for the simplest of decisions."

  "My people are trained to maintain social order. We've had a little practice at that."

  "My compliments to your Targan veterans. If we had another four Divisions, we could keep the lid on the whole of Free Space."

  Another four Divisions?

  "Sinklar?" she asked. "If you need anything, call. I know him. I 've seen into his soul. I can see how worried you are, but don't take any rash action until you talk to me first."

  Sink resettled himself in his chair. "Seen into his soul? Can anyone know another person that well?"

  Her hard eyes flickered. "I watched him turn inside out. Yes. I know him that well. He and I, we're bound like no two human beings have ever been bound.

  Together, we are the reconciliation of opposites-the merging of duality."

  "You like him, don't you?"

  She nodded, sadness pinching her features. "He has been a brutal butcher, a destroyer. And he is determined to become a compassionate savior." Then her gaze intensified, burning. "If anyone can deal with the machine, it is Staffa kar Therma. He has strength, Sinklar. If the machine defeats him, we are all lost."

  That's really reassuring. "Thank you, Magister. I give you my word that if the situation here becomes uncertain, I will contact you. And now, I'll let you get back to your duties. "

  Sinklar cleared the channel and leaned back. Once again he swam in deep waters, and the cold currents were pulling numbingly at him.

  The feeling of impotence didn't sit well. Staffa's expression of icy fear had burned into Sinklar's mind. What could he do? Let Staffa be overcome by the machine? Or bow to Kaylla's trust?"

  He stood and canceled the privacy screen before he stepped outside into the bright sunlight of a Targan day. Adze waited like a mirrored machine in her armor, arms c
rossed, those piercing black eyes searching.

  "Any change in the Lord Commander?"

  "No, sir. He's still asleep. Bruen is demanding to know what is going on."

  "Tell him we'll inform him as soon as the Lord Commander is awake." He hesitated. "Communication has never been the old reptile's strong point."

  "How's that?"

  Sinklar pointed to the looming mound of rock. "My people might not have died in there had Bruen been willing to talk. " -

  At her quizzical glance, he smiled. "We'd crushed their forces just beyond the outskirts of Vespa. I had a damaged LC, so it was a simple matter to plant the reactor in a ridge outside the city. When the Rebels attacked, we lured them onto the ridge. It only made strategic sense; from that strong point, they could control the approaches to the city. When I had them firmly entrenched I asked for their surrender. Arta Fera . . . well, we had her, were using her to communicate with the Rebels. She told the Rebel commander it was a bluff.

  We pushed a button which overloaded the reactor and blew the ridge. Destroyed their army and the Seddi's ability to resist. After the mop-up, I sent messages all over the planet asking to meet with the Seddi leaders. Bruen wouldn't respond."

  Sinklar walked toward his dome. "At the time, my hope was to negotiate a settlement, bring the fighting to an end. Instead, having no other alternative, we came here to destroy the Seddi once and for all."

  "Is the story true? Did you really only start with one Division? "

  "And they were a sorry lot. Mostly green conscripts. He glanced at her, aware of the swing of her hips. What did she look like under all that reflective plating? Unlike supple, formfitting armor, the STU variety was as revealing as an LC. And did Adze have another side to her personality? One that wasn't hard, professional, forever on guard?"

  "What do you think our chances are now?" she asked as she surveyed the hills.

  "Are we going to make it work? Or is this just another last stand at Makarta?"

  Sinklar sighed wearily. "I don't know. You said the archives were open. Want to go take a look?"

  "I'd love it." Excitement animated her face.

  The trip down into Makarta had become less of a nightmare for Sinklar, but the ruined chambers still haunted him. Looking around at the mess, he asked, "How many bodies did they take out?"

  "One hundred and twenty-seven . as accurately as we could determine.

  Isolated hands, feet, and bits of tissue might have been miscounted as a different individual or two parts of the same. We didn't run a forensic analysis.

  "Another one hundred and forty are still here someplace. " He stared around at the collapsed rock.

  "We could continue the excavations. Remove the rock and- "

  "No. Leave them in peace."

  A deep melancholy had settled like a ghost-dusty mantle on his spirits. "What's it all for, Adze? Life, I mean. Why do we fight so viciously amongst ourselves?"

  " That question has been asked throughout our entire history. Do you think you'll find an answer, Sinklar?"

  I INo. But you'd think that for a species as clever as ours, we could think of a better solution than blowing each other apart. "

  :'Maybe it's the machine. It was directing Bruen. 'Maybe. " He passed the stairway that led to the machine and proceeded down the narrowing tunnel.

  Despite the lights, he could sense the dark weight of the place. How had Mac managed, trapped down here in total darkness, listening to the sounds of war, feeling the vibrations through the rock?

  A square shaft had been cut into the rock, bypassing the rock fall that had blocked the original entrance. Lights had been strung along the top of the bore. Sinklar stepped inside, aware of the chill coming from the rock.

  :'How soon is Staffa's team supposed to arrive?" 'They'll planet tonight at about the tenth decant.

  They entered the original tunnel, a rounded, worn passageway. The sounds of their booted feet echoed hollowly. :'Scary, isn't it?" Sinklar asked as the rock narrowed.

  'Yeah, I wouldn't want to work down here. "

  A heavy duraplast door blocked the way. An old electronic lock had been set in the dusty stone.

  "Do you have the code?" Adze asked. Sinklar laughed wearily. "I'm afraid not."

  Adze grinned in a display of white teeth. "You know, it's a good thing you've got me around to take care of you." "Oh, it is, is it? And how's that? I haven't noticed that

  I've needed your overtime protection. No one has tried to slip a vibraknife into my back yet."

  "I'm not an STU for nothing-and I'm not talking about saving your skinny back from an assassin's blade, either." She reached into her belt pouch and produced one of the electronic gadgets she carried. Deftly, she attached two wires and began tapping commands into the small box. Digital displays flashed and the lock clicked.

  ' 'You see," her voice held an air of satisfaction. "You need me for the more practical aspects of life-like locks." "That's a handy device."

  She unclipped the wires, neatly stowing the unit. "You never know what you might have to deal with on an assault. A system as old as this one is pretty simple."

  "Knowing you've got that little tool, I'll make sure I shove a chair under the doorknob next time I take a shower. "

  "What? You think I'd be interested in a skinny little runt like you? Dream on!"

  The comment left him slightly miffed. Skinny little runt? Well, sure, he'd never gone big on muscle. "Adze, all my strength is between my ears."

  "Must make buying a hat a little difficult. Come on, let's see what's here."

  Opening the door took their combined efforts, but it swung free to reveal a dark cavern. The square of light glowing through the doorway didn't help much.

  Adze produced a hydrogen torch from her belt and dialed up the brilliance.

  Sinklar stepped reverently into the small room. Pine shelving had been placed along the walls, most of it sagging and warped. Cabinets with atmosphere seals ran up one wall from floor to ceiling. On a stand stood a globe of a planet.

  Sinklar glanced around, noting the inscription on the rear wall.

  THE PAST IS MYSTERY THE PRESENT IS NOW ASSUME THE MANTLE YOU ARE THE LEGACY

  "What do you think that means?" Adze asked.

  Sinklar studied the words. "That's just the sort of thing you'd find in an archive or over a library lintel. You're supposed to be inspired by weighty words from the past."

  He stepped over to the globe, frowning at the outline of the continents and the colored patches. The blue, he could accept as oceans. "What world is this?

  I don't recognize it. "

  Adze leaned forward, squinting. "Got me. What's it made of? Plastic? Why not use a holo display. You can do more with it. "

  "Old," Sinklar whispered. He craned his neck to stare at the words written in standard alphabet but in an alien arrangement. "Maybe it's the place where the aliens came from? Somewhere beyond the Forbidden Borders?"

  Then he caught sight of the legend. "Holy Rotted Gods. :'What?

  ,:Earth. That's a myth.

  A cold shiver ran down Sinklar's spine as he studied the globe. "I think not."

  He turned, obsessed by the room. In the dust at his feet, he could see Staffa and Kaylla's tracks. He walked over to one of the shelves, seeing antiquated stacks of flimsies. In one corner, he noted an ancient book, the kind made of wood pulp bound together at the spine. He'd seen pictures of them in his study of history. With trembling fingers, he removed the fragile volume and blew the dust from it. The weight of it surprised him. Heavy.

  :'What's that?"

  'A book. The way they were made thousands of years ago. It's all printed on paper." With care, he opened it, hating the cracking sound it made. The lines of text didn't mean much, but the pictures were startling. Men and women in odd dress, buildings, scenes of human beings on horses in curious scenery, much of it reminiscent of Targa. Some carried long knives, others bore flags.

  Then he found the first map, and the excitement
grew.

  Stepping over to the globe, Sinklar placed the outline of a continent. "

  Ayfreecay. " He swallowed. "Blessed Gods - " Then he turned back to the beginning, finding yet another figure, this one vaguely human, bipedal and slightly hairy. One by one, he turned the pages, finding pictures of skulls.

  From the map, he could place the location talked about as Ayfreecay, Cheyenay, or Eeuropay. The creatures became more and more human as he progressed. Then he found a photo of the DNA molecule and it all came clear.

  "What is it?" Adze demanded. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

  ' 61 have," Sinklar whispered. "A whole bunch of them. The globe is no myth."

  He closed his eyes, fingers tracing down the page. "Ana, why couldn't you have lived to see this? "

  "What is it?" Adze insisted.

  "Earth. Us. Where we came from. The answer to the problem of our origins. " With great care he turned the pages, finding a full-page map of the Earth. A small picture of a human was tied to different parts of the planet. Darkskinned people, like Ark, from Ayfreecay, white-skinned from Eeuropay. He glanced up, pointing. "Here is your physical type. It's from Nohrth Aymereyecayan. Your ancestors were Nayteyev Aymereyecayan. "

  "Sure, they were. I can't even say it."

  Sinklar slowly turned the pages, trying to absorb it all as he noted the progression of architecture from huts and caves to mud buildings. People no longer killed strange animals but worked in fields and had cattle or sheep. As he turned the pages, the cities depicted became larger. To his surprise, he could interpret the pictures of men at war with long knives and metal armor.

  Then ships appeared, the first rowed by lines of oars and with square sails.

  The maps changed over time, the names different in each age. Pictures of men were interspersed, some with beards, others with helmets.

  "I want this book!" Sinklar cried.

  "That still doesn't prove it's Earth," Adze insisted. Sinklar skipped to the middle, opening a page. "They're still at war." This time, the fighting was with machines he could recognize. Aircraft, armored war vehicles, and burning cities were portrayed. He skipped again and opened to a page with a cube-shaped vehicle on four spindly legs on an atmosphereless planet. A man, obviously in a bulky space suit, was caught in the act of stepping from the vehicle. This time, Sinklar could recognize the word written in the text: Moon.