Fire with Fire

Chapter Forty-Four

ODYSSEUS

Alnduul’s image stood with hands folded as Caine stepped closer. “Alnduul, just a moment ago, we detected a crucial oversight on our part: we neglected to send questions to one other important group.”

“If you refer to the other candidates, the Hkh’Rkh, they are not yet a member state, and so your inquiries may only be made informally, at the end of today’s official proceedings.”

“Alnduul, the Hkh’Rkh are not the group to which we wish to address our questions.”

Alnduul’s inner eyelids slowly closed. “I am perplexed. There is no other group.”

“With respect, there is: the Custodians.”

Alnduul’s mouth seemed to squirm. “I remain perplexed: you are obviously aware that the Dornaani are the Custodians. Answers to your questions on the Dornaani sphere are currently being crafted by Third Arbiter Glayaazh.”

“Alnduul, the questions we would ask the Custodians are different than those we would ask the Dornaani.”

“How so?”

“We have asked the Dornaani questions pertaining to their history. But if we were to wish information on the history of the Accord itself, it seems only right to ask the Custodians. And I must believe-since Custodianship is not a permanent position-that the Dornaani and the Custodians are separate political entities. Or is the voice and will of the Dornaani the same thing as the voice and will of the Custodians?”

Alnduul’s lids slowly cleared his eyes: the pupils were fixed upon Caine. “None before have made such a distinction when submitting their questions.”

Caine felt several retorts and appeals rush up like an incipient, reflexive shout. Trusting instinct, he pushed them back down-and waited.

Alnduul’s eyes did not waver. “However, it is an apt distinction. And perhaps more necessary now than in the past.”

Behind him, Lemuel’s “We’re in!” drowned out a chorus of relieved sighs, all from outside the sending circle.

Alnduul gestured to himself. “I shall be the one to answer your questions. You may proceed.”

“Before beginning, we wish to clarify: the Custodians may not withhold information pertaining to their own activities, is this correct?”

“Fundamentally, but there are two key exceptions.”

“Which are?”

“Until you are conferred membership, we will not indicate the existence of, nor discuss any of our activities involving, any protected species.”

“Understood. And?”

“And, if in answering your questions regarding our activities as Custodians, we would be forced to disclose information on other member states, we must decline to answer.”

“We assumed so. However, did you not, during our first contact, indicate that another race had been recruited to augment the Custodians in a variety of routine functions?”

“This is so.”

“So we may also ask questions regarding the performance of those functions as well, correct?”

A pause. Gotcha. But maybe you’re glad we’ve found this loophole-

“You may.”

“By extension, then, we may ask the identity of these auxiliary Custodians?”

A longer pause. “We have never considered this particular line of inquiry. However, revealing any of the activities of a member race would violate the race-privacy protocols of the accords.”

“Allow me to verify that I am accurate in my understanding: is it true that this other race has served as Custodians?”

A long, long pause. Then: “Yes, they work as Custodians.”

“Then I do not understand how questions pertaining to them, or their identity, are protected under the accords. The Custodians themselves have no such protections.”

“No, but the racial identity of our assistant Custodians is irrelevant. Their species of origin does not alter their responsibilities or their performance of them.”

Caine had foreseen that rebuff: “Alnduul, do you believe that the nature of an observer influences what they observe, and thus, what they report?”

“Yes: we hold this to be a fundamental tenet of the limits of empirical method.”

“So do we. So I must insist that the speciate identity of a given Custodial team will ultimately shape the work they do. By inescapable deduction, then, their identity is pertinent to any detailed inquiry into the overall history and performance of the Custodial function within the Accord.”

“Please excuse me for a moment.”

No one in the gallery spoke. Alnduul’s “moment” was seven minutes in length. Then: “Thank you for your patience. Although we have no extant policy on this matter, your reasoning is without flaw. In the absence of explicit rulings to the contrary, we hold that you may inquire as to the identity of those who have been solicited to assist us in routine Custodial tasks.”

“Good job, Riordan.” Lemuel’s mutter was triumphant. Visser was smiling fiercely; Downing only nodded and mused. Elena seemed to be carefully staring somewhere else.

And now, the 64,000-credit question…“Which member state has been assisting you in Custodial matters?”

Alnduul’s pause was peculiar in that Caine could not see any reason for it. “The Ktor.”

Eyes closed, Downing nodded vigorously to himself.

“May we ask how the Ktor were chosen, and why?”

Again a long, strange pause. Alnduul’s thumbs seemed to flex downward slightly-

— and Elena was on her feet. “He’s embarrassed-or apologetic-or annoyed.”

“Annoyed at us?”

“No. At himself.”

Alnduul stood straighter. “I cannot reveal all the circumstances surrounding that choice, for to do so would violate the privacy of several member states. However, I may tell you that the Ktor volunteered to serve in this role. Furthermore, the requirements of Custodianship make it most prudent to solicit help from other member states in descending order of their technical competencies.”

Downing and Visser exchanged confirmatory nods.

“Logical,” Durniak whispered. “As the most senior member state after the Dornaani, the Ktor are probably their closest technological rivals.”

And therefore, Caine thought, even more likely to be the ones behind the Arat Kur obstreperousness. But why? Well, we’ll circle back toward that later-“When was the Accord established?”

“Approximately seven thousand years ago.”

The quiet in the gallery was absolute. Caine couldn’t be sure, but it seemed as though some were holding their breath.

“Are the Dornaani the architects of the Accord?”

“For the most part, yes.”

Huh? “There were other architects?”

“Not at the time of the Accord’s formal institution seven thousand years ago. But the spirit and structure of the accords was borrowed from the founders of an earlier, analogous organization.”

Just how far back are we talking about? But first things first: “Have there been other members of the Accord?”

“No.”

“How long have the Dornaani served as the Custodians?”

“Approximately seven thousand years.”

Whoa. “So you have always been the Custodians?”

“Yes.”

Hmmmm…“Have other member states expressed interest in becoming the Custodians?”

“I am not allowed to say: it would imply the official actions or attitudes of other member states, not the Custodians. However, I may say this: the Dornaani are interested in identifying another species that would be willing to serve as Custodians.”

I could interpret that about twenty different ways-and I don’t have the time now to even ask about one. “Have the Custodians ever had to intervene in wars waged between species of the Accord?”

“No-not since the accords were established.”

Well, that was either a big slip-or a big hint. “So, the Dornaani were-at some time over seven thousand years ago-involved in a war against one of the species that is now a member state of the Accord?”

“We may not answer; your question concerns events that predate the Accord. Consequently, you are inquiring into the history of different species, not the Custodians.”

“My apologies for overstepping. It was unintentional.”

“Your apology is noted and appreciated, but unnecessary: it was plain that the question arose from eagerness, not guile.” A pause, a slight rotation of Alnduul’s mouth. “My entire delegation notes your deductive-inventiveness-with interest, Caine Riordan.”

Thanks for the pat on the head; next you’ll be giving me a cookie-“Have Dornaani Custodians ever landed on any of our planets?”

“Yes.”

Now, let’s find out who else has been poking around our backyard. “Have Ktoran Custodians ever landed on any of our planets?”

The pause was marked. “They have received no such orders or authorization, and we have received no such reports.”

Hmm-not a “yes,” but not a “no,” either. “Has a species ever been considered for membership which ultimately did not become a member?”

“No.”

“So the Custodians know of no races other than the ones that are presently in the Accord?”

Alnduul’s fingers fluttered. “There is historical record of other races. However, there has been no official contact with them-if they still exist-since the institution of the Accord. Therefore, knowledge pertaining to these races is the province of those species which have retained records of their contacts with these other species.”

Tell your non-Custodian Dornaani pals to expect a tidal wave of questions on that topic. And now, the key question-“Other than the Custodial report to the Accord, is there any condition under which it would have been legal for the Custodians to share information about Earth with any member state?”

“Absolutely not.” Ah hah. “Even the Dornaani Collective is not allowed such information, despite the fact that it is the member state charged with Custodianship.” Alnduul’s lids half-closed. “We trust that this answer provides additional context to several of the inquiries that were addressed to your delegation earlier today.”

Visser smiled. “Ja, he has confirmed that the Arat Kur have obtained information illegally.”

Wasserman snorted. “He all but winked.”

Caine wondered how much time they had left before the other member states relayed their responses to the twenty questions. No time to waste. “Why was Earth not contacted prior to, or shortly after, our entry into the 70 Ophiuchi system?”

Alnduul’s thumbs opened downward, longer fingers waving listlessly, fitfully. “The Custodians’ Human Oversight Group received conflicting field reports regarding your interstellar expansion. This resulted in a very late first report to the Accord, which then debated-for two years-over delaying your hearing in order to combine it with that of the Hkh’Rkh. By that time, your race had not only visited but commenced the settling of 70 Ophiuchi. I cannot say more without revealing-” Alnduul held up his hand in what seemed to be a universal “stop” gesture. “The member states have all submitted their responses to your questions. We must consider your inquiry of the Custodians to be ended. I have also been asked to inform you that the Dornaani member state has been pleased to answer all your questions in detail.”

— Well, no surprises there-

“Now please open your channels to the other member states.”

Caine nodded at Thandla. Wise-Speech and the green and yellow quatrefoils returned.

Alnduul spread his arms. “The delegates of the member states will now respond to the inquiries of the delegation from Earth.”

Wise-Speech managed to produce a tone at once apologetic and sympathetic. “The Ktor delegation welcomes the keen human interest in our species. Indeed, their questions are so far-ranging and pregnant with greater implications, that we cannot answer them in the sterile format necessitated by these proceedings.”

Damn: strike one-

“We would welcome an opportunity for more expansive, less rigidly structured discussions.”

“‘Let’s talk over drinks.’” Wasserman’s paraphrase even got a smile out of Visser.

Vishnaaswii’ah began a moment later. “The Slaasriithi also feel that, given the diverse questions posed by the human delegation, we would prefer not to proceed until their species has a more complete concept of us.”

God damn; strike two-

“Accordingly, we shall send our response in the form of a primer, used to associate our very young with our history, our language, our planet, our polity.”

Wasserman rolled his eyes: “See Dick run. Run, Dick, run.”

“This primer,” continued Vishnaaswii’ah, “and the supplemental materials, are an excellent foundation from which to develop further lines of inquiry. We hope you are not offended that we offer this in place of direct answers to your inquiries.”

Caine raised his voice over Wasserman’s sardonic guffaw. “We will look forward to receiving your primer, Vishnaaswii’ah. And we take no offense: we are thankful that you took it upon yourself to furnish us with what you feel is the best and most helpful first exposure to your race.”

“And our thanks for your patience and gracious response. I think, upon close consideration, you will find the text and the supplementary materials quite-illuminating.”

Caine looked around the gallery; Elena was the only other one who had apparently noted the faintly stilted diction of the last comment. She looked at him, eyebrow raised: “Why mention the supplementary materials twice? Why mention them at all?”

He nodded. “And why emphasize that they would be ‘quite illuminating’ upon ‘close consideration’? That sounded like a surreptitious prompt, to me.”

Downing nodded. “Yes, but right now, let’s hear what the Arat Kur have to say.”

Caine felt the delegation’s eyes turn, along with his, to the blinking yellow quatrefoil. Ten seconds later, they were still waiting.

“Speaker-to-Nestless Zirsoo, there may be a problem with the communications equipment; we are not receiving your responses.”

“The communication equipment is operating properly. We decline to respond to your questions.”

Strike three-a blind miss-and out. Not a single question answered.

Alnduul folded his hands. “The human delegation has received all formal responses.”

Caine stepped closer to the image of the Dornaani. “Alnduul, we would like to ask a question.”

“Yes?”

“Have member states elected not to answer the formal questions of candidate races before this?”

“Yes.”

“How many questions have been declined-in toto-over the course of all the prior candidacy hearings?”

Alnduul folded his hands more tightly. “Two.”

Caine turned to face the others. “Yep. We’re in deep shit.”

After the long silence that followed, Visser’s voice sounded very tired. “So, any ideas what we should do now?”

Elena looked over at Caine-inquisitively, tentatively-before suggesting, “We could have a party.”

The room was more silent than before. At the words “have a party,” Hwang commenced looking sidelong at Elena, as if assessing her for signs of impending mental collapse. Wasserman’s reaction was even worse: he smiled, kindly and a bit crestfallen, as if he’d just learned that a favorite sibling had been diagnosed with dementia.

But Elena kept looking at Caine-and then he understood. “Yes-of course.”

Durniak’s head snapped back. “We should have a party? Now?”

Elena’s hands were suddenly as lively as Alnduul’s. “No, no-not a party for us. For them. A diplomatic reception.”

“So that’s our show of strength and resolve? They insult us, and in return, we feed them?”

Caine turned toward Wasserman. “No-she’s absolutely right. And not just on the level of communications, but tactically.”

“Pardon?” Downing’s eyebrows were raised.

“Sun Tzu; always do what your adversary won’t anticipate. Always find fields of engagement that minimize your weaknesses, maximize your strengths. Always strike them where they are most vulnerable. And Elena’s suggestion accomplishes all those things.”

Visser nodded. “Yes, of course. Today, all the member states either dismissed us or attacked our credentials: the last thing they will expect is a social invitation.”

Downing smiled. “And, being the diplomatic victors of the hour, the Arat Kur can hardly reject an invitation without also making themselves look like utter cads. They’ve got to be gracious in victory-or they come away looking petty and ungenerous.”

Durniak was frowning. “What if the other member states do not care how they look? So we give a party. Some do not show. Others say ne kulturny, shrug, and turn their backs. How does this help us?”

Elena nodded. “It might not. But I think it will, at least with the Dornaani. And perhaps more importantly, I think it could be very important in our future relationships with the Slaasriithi-and the Hkh’Rkh.”

Visser squinted at Elena: “Important in what way?”

Elena leaned back, collected herself-and Caine had the impression of an organist surveying all the keys, pumps, stays, and pushes before starting a complex concerto. “Firstly, I suspect that those two member states are the ones most likely to be undecided about us. The Slaasriithi, in particular, seem not to be a part of the Arat Kur’s ploys-”

“Even though they also refused to be seen, and refused to answer our questions.”

“True, Dr. Thandla, but they were always very polite and suggested that more complete communication would be forthcoming. The Hkh’Rkh are new, like ourselves, and could hardly have come with any preconceived notions-”

“Unless the Arat Kur got to them first.”

She looked at her brother. “And if that’s the case, Trev, then the Accord is more sham than substance. Fully half the current or prospective members would be actively involved in subverting its basic principles. How long do you think it will last, if that’s the case?”

Trevor met her gaze. “I didn’t say I think it will last. In fact, if you were taking bets-”

Downing stood. “Agreed-things are looking shaky all around. But I think Elena’s making some excellent points. The greatest remaining strategic prize is the good opinion of those races which may be undecided about humanity, particularly since the decision upon our membership is to be made tomorrow. So, if the Arat Kur accept our invitation, we have an opportunity to learn about them; if they do not, they have shown themselves to be aggressive and unfriendly in formal council, and rude and inconsiderate in informal interaction. And in contrast, we will come across as patient, congenial, forgiving-”

“And weak.” Wasserman leaned forward. “No member state is going to ally with us against another because someone turned up their nose at our appetizers. Christ, it’s just a party.”

Caine tried to keep his smile from becoming ironic. “Just a party? Lemuel, where do you think most politicking is done, where most deals are made? At meetings? No: on the side. Meetings are for show; the real action is taking place over drinks. Wars are won, land ceded, truces made in the time between the crudites and the canapes. Besides, Elena’s plan has another upside.”

“What’s that?”

“The Ktor. Remember what they said?”

Wasserman smiled. “Yeah, that they would welcome ‘an opportunity for longer, less rigidly structured discussions.’”

“Precisely. They asked for an invite, so we’re sending them one. And I think they’re the ones we really need to talk to.”

Visser frowned. “Why?”

Downing jumped in. “Because they’ve got their fingers-maybe tendrils-in almost all of the issues that involve us. They’re the surrogate Custodians who may or may not have visited our systems. They want to talk with us, but not briefly or in public. They don’t challenge our legitimacy but they make trouble when the Dornaani try to put aside the Arat Kur objections to it. And their seniority and technology is second only to the Dornaani.” Downing shook his head. “We have to talk to them before tomorrow’s decision. They know it. They made sure of it.”

“You’re saying-?”

“That they orchestrated many of today’s events? I’d lay odds on it.”

Visser raised an eyebrow. “So you think they’ll come?”

Caine stepped toward the communication node: “There’s only one way to find out-”