Federation World

Chapter 19

GOOD MORNING, read the communications display. ASSIGNMENT INSTRUCTIONS AND ASSOCIATED PHYSIOLOGICAL AND SOCIOPOLITICAL DATA FOLLOW. PLEASE RECORD FOR LATER STUDY.

A pulsating grayness filled the screen as anything up to ten hours of relevant information was transferred in as many seconds, then it steadied again with another message.

Puzzled, Martin said, “We’ve never been allowed to make that kind of decision on other assignments. Are hostile? Would a direct approach be dangerous for physiological reasons?”

A rapid succession of still pictures were displayed on the screen. They showed a species which was bipedal, bifurcate, bisexual, and in overall appearance utterly nonhuman, but completely familiar.

“We’re being sent to Keida?” Martin asked.

“That sounds like a nasty combination,” Martin said. “But is it any of our concern? I assumed that, being Undesirables, it no longer mattered what they did to each other.”

It was obvious that the words had angered Beth as much as they had him. Since the completion of their training they had considered themselves as members, albeit not very important members, of the Federation’s elite group of contact specialists. Being told that there was little difference between themselves and the vicious, power hungry, or otherwise amoral Undesirables was deeply wounding to the justifiable pride they had been taking in their work.

What kind of assignment was it that began with such a serious attack on their basic convictions and self-respect?

“We found it hard, enough to offer help to Keidi Citizens,” Martin commented. “Their Undesirables are likely to be very dangerous and difficult people to investigate openly, and the trouble with a completely covert approach is…”

“Why,” Beth asked suddenly, “were we chosen?”

Martin opened his mouth to laugh, thinking that the supervisor was making some kind of alien and utterly ridiculous joke, then closed it again. For a moment the closing words continued to light the screen.

During the trip to the Keidi system, Beth and Martin said very little to each other. When they were not engaged in silently studying the Keidi material they were arguing bitterly and briefly about operational procedures, which resulted in further lengthy silences. As they were checking their equipment before boarding the lander, he made another attempt to reason with her.

“According to the regulations,” he said seriously, “the function of the ship handler is to remain with the hyper-ship and provide support and protection to the contactor on the surface. We are being allowed a wide degree of initiative on this one, but that doesn’t mean that you can completely ignore the rule book.”

Matching his tone, Beth said, “Don’t worry, the ship has been instructed to furnish whatever protection is necessary and hold itself ready to respond to verbal signals. These are word combinations not likely to be used in normal conversation. They’re listed on that screen for you to memorize.

“Besides,” she went on, “that regulation was designed to cover first-contact assignments on planets with hostile environments and life forms ignorant of who we are and what we represent. This isn’t a completely alien planet.”

She smiled and continued, “I know that you don’t want me with you. It stops you from taking the kind of stupid risks you would have no hesitation in taking if I wasn’t there, because it gives you two people instead of one to worry about. But that is precisely the reason why we will be safer together. We have discussed this and you agreed with me, earlier, but now you want to relegate me to my super-scientific kitchen sink again. Next to a complete family unit with children, an alien and presumably mated couple would be much more reassuring to them, would appear less of a threat, than any individual stranger.

“I can’t see this ever becoming a covert operation,” she continued when he did not reply. “To understand what is happening here we’ll have to get really close to these people, and be accepted and trusted by them. I know I’m right and I know that you, being the kind of person who worries about me, would prefer that I was wrong.

“Have you gone deaf or something?”

Martin forced himself to smile and said, “What did you say?”

“Oh, go terminate,” Beth said, and turned her attention to the control console. The lander shot away from its dock and the enormous bulk of the hypership was shrinking behind them before he spoke again.

“We would further reduce our risks,” Martin said, “if we took enough time to prepare properly for this operation so that we could go down as a family unit. How many children did you have in mind?”

“You’re worried by this job and so am I,” she said irritably, without taking her attention from the console. “Don’t try to hide it by making stupid jokes.”

“I’ll try to be serious, then,” Martin said.

“Physiologically, our supervisor is a mystery to me, but I’ve been told that it has a multiple heart system, and I expect they would all arrest if we were to ask for a three- or four-year hold on this operation. However, my suggestion should be considered as a long-term cooperative project in case we’re given a similar assignment in the future.”

“And you would go to ail that trouble,” Beth said, turning to look at him, “not to mention putting me to considerable personal inconvenience, simply to prepare us for the kind of assignment we might never again be given?”

“I believe in being prepared for any contingency,” Martin said quietly, “even a future resignation from operational service and a joint application for Citizen status. We would not want to be considered odd by our fellow proliferating Citizens, would we?”

Beth turned back to the console, and even her ears had gone a bright pink. “Is this some kind of proposal, an attempt to legalize an existing arrangement which isn’t even illegal? I’m committed to atmosphere entry in eight minutes, dammit. Your sense of timing is weird.”

“Relax,” Martin said. “It wasn’t my intention that we should start a family in the next eight minutes. Take plenty of time to think about it.”

“Three,” she said.

“Three?”

“And at least one of them,” she added firmly, “will have to be a girl.”

Only ten of the gigantic matter transmitters remained in Keida orbit, out of the hundreds which had ringed the equator like a tremendous, jeweled necklace prior to the mass transfer of population and property to the Federation World. Outwardly the planet appeared normal, its oceans unchanged and the land hidden by the cloud blanket that was unrolling rapidly below them. Then they ran into the clear sky of a high pressure center and were able to pick out road systems, villages, isolated dwellings, and the raw, green, sharply outlined areas where some of the larger towns and cities had been neatly excised from the landscape and grass had grown in to cover the wounds.

“Someone is shooting at us,” Beth said suddenly. “Two surface-to-air missies with nonnuctear warheads. They are short-range weapons and we are already leaving them behind and, in any case, our meteor shield is deployed. They didn’t try to make prior contact on any radio frequency, to ask who we were or to warn us off. That wasn’t the act of a nonviolent Keidi.”

“It wasn’t,” Martin agreed. “Maybe it was meant as a warning only because they knew we couldn’t be hit. But now we know that this area has a weapons technology and its people are hostile to anything that flies, so we won’t land here. Level out at ten thousand and fly below Mach One. We should approach these people slowly, openly, and without making sonic shock waves.”

“Approach them where?” Beth asked. “My lander’s computer worries if it isn’t given a place to land.”

“There,” Martin said, leaning forward and tapping his finger against the position of what had been one of Keida’s largest coastal cities. “Just under three hundred miles to the northeast. The sensors indicate very low population and even lower technology levels in and around the old city sites. Any missies launched from there are likely to be hand-thrown.”

“But still potentially lethal,” Beth said dryly as the lander adopted lateral flight mode and curved onto its new heading.

The entire area once occupied by the towering, thriving, and incredibly beautiful island city-the acknowledged commercial and cultural capital of its world-had been left an almost optically flat expanse of bare rock, tumbled masonry, and muddy brown soil. Tidal pools and a fine, intricate lacework of canals-the collapsed and flooded tunnels of what had been a complex underground transport system-reflected the gray overcast. Tiny squares and rectangles of green showed where the soil had been tilled and planted, and the image enhancers showed tools scattered haphazardly around these areas as if hastily abandoned at the lander’s approach.

Incongruously, one of the road and railway bridges had been left in position, probably for the convenience of Undesirables wishing to move between the island and die mainland. It towered, rusting and empty of wheeled or pedestrian traffic, with the absence of all other surrounding structures magnifying the already massive and beautifully proportioned dimensions. At each end of the bridge there were shoulder-high double barricades built from surrounding masonry, presently unmanned.

Beyond the mainland end of the bridge the smooth, partially flooded area extended into what had been the city suburbs where a distant line of buildings marked the limits of the mattran incision. The enhancer showed houses, a small factory, and hangers belonging to a local airfield, most of which had been abandoned, burned, or otherwise vandalized. A few buildings showed signs of occupancy, with clothing hanging out to dry and their outlines blurred by the smoke of external cooking fires.

Standing isolated in what had been a small park, and dwarfing the dingy and dilapidated structures around it, was the gleaming white cube of the area’s Federation examination and induction center.

The lander dropped slowly toward a dry area of rabble in a city which resembled nothing so much as a muddy, two-dimensional map and touched down, rocking gently as its landing struts adjusted to the uneven surface.

“The people are hiding in surface and basement shelters positioned above high tide level,” Beth said, “and the body scans show no hand weapons other than gardening implements and long, wooden staves. The sensors also show a number of small collections of metal, mostly subsurface debris, but a few of them are small-scale power generators which are currently inoperative.”

“Civilization is not yet dead,” Martin said softly. “They still light their homes at night.”

“And notice the perimeters of their gardens,” Beth went on. “I’d say that they are having trouble with night visitors who think it easier to steal than to grow food.”

They were being watched by a growing number of Keidi, all of them wrapped in cloaks which concealed everything but their heads and all carrying, or armed with, staves. None of them seemed curious enough to want a closer look at the ship.

“The longer we stay here,” Martin said, “the more time we give them to worry about who or what is coming out and to get nervous about it. Ready?”

Beth held back for a moment. “These suits are a joke so far as protection is concerned. They’re too tight-fitting and are effective only against low-velocity, solid-projectile-firing weapons, provided the shots are not aimed at our heads. A body hit would inflict painful, perhaps disabling injuries. The fabricator could produce a weapon which would outwardly duplicate those staves they all carry and, even though we might never use them, we would have the reassurance of…”

“Exactly,” Martin broke in. “We would feel reassured, confident, protected, and unafraid. Those feelings would be reflected, however subtly, in our behavior, which would appear unnatural and suspicious for two people who are apparently unarmed and among strangers. It is better that we go in politely, with our hands empty of weapons and trying to project a high degree of natural caution.”

“I won’t have to try very hard,” Beth said. “Test your watch.”

Martin raised one arm and spoke briefly to his wrist-watch, checking that its communication and translation functions were on standby. He said gently, “It might be better, during the initial contact, if you stayed in the tender while I…”

Tin ready,” Beth said.

They emerged together and made an elaborate production or securing the lander’s airlock behind them-an unnecessary precaution since the ship had much more effective methods of protecting itself from unauthorized entry or damage. The act was designed to show the distant watchers that their vessel had been left unoccupied, and that they were alone. When they were clear of the lander they stopped, looked all around them, then walked unhurriedly toward the watcher who had moved closest to the ship.

This was Keida, Martin reminded himself firmly, and judging by the contours of the watcher’s speaking horn, this is a male Keidi Undesirable. It might be much more difficult to make friendly contact with this being than with an enormous, fierce visaged Teldi or a tiny, soil ingesting, and even more alien Blind One.

The ground underfoot was a thick, lumpy stew composed of dark brown mud in which floated pieces of rotting vegetation and small, soft objects which were probably not what he thought they were. He was glad, nonetheless, that his nose filters were in place.

When they had approached to within speaking distance, Martin raised one arm, fist clenched, to point at the Keidi. Before he could say anything he slipped, lost Us balance, and landed on his hands and knees in the mud.