Sliding Scales

by Alan Dean Foster

  “Svi-Ormoth talking. Is it quiet around you, mentor?”

  Lwo-Dvuum tensed, his frill contracting reflexively. SviOrmoth was a member of one of the several subordinate sympathetic circles of objection that impacted on the larger philosophical circle comprised of the teacher, BnoCassaul, and numerous others. What made Lwo-Dvuum sensitive to the calling was that Svi-Ormoth occupied a particularly delicate position: the service specialist often did work within and for the resident AAnn Administration. It put the specialist in the unique position of being able to report from personal experience on the activities of the scaled ones. Doing so exposed Svi-Ormoth to considerable danger. It was a risk the specialist had been willing to take for some time now, for the benefit of all.

  The educator checked the communicator's privacy signifier. It blushed a bright, reassuring orange. “Insofar as I can tell, it is quiet, yes. And I am in motion. You have news of mutual interest, praiseworthy frien'?”

  “I have a story,” the burbling replied. “It involves something your circle passed along to mine, among others. Concerning the unreasonable interrogation you and your companions suffered under the direction of a particular AAnn official name of Takuuna.”

  Lwo-Dvuum's eyes rotated atop their stalks. There was no one close by on the walkway, not even a preoccupied student. “Speak safely into the quiet, my frien'.”

  “There was talk and discussion here recently that I overhear'. Very lou' talk, even louder than the scaled ones usually deploy among themselves. Part of it reminde' me immediately of some things of which your circle spoke— of one thing in particular.”

  “Woul' I recall this one thing?” Lwo-Dvuum lowered his voice and repressed any bubbling as a pair of student-educators passed him on the parallel walkway that ran in the other direction.

  “I am certain of it. Your circle spoke of this AAnn accusing you of consorting with a representative of a species calle' human, to the detriment of the AAnn.”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “That self-same AAnn administrator recently clomped through here raging alou' about the defiance of a group of his own kin' who were holding a human, an' refusing to surrender the creature to his custody.”

  Lwo-Dvuum's puzzlement must have shown in the twisting of many tentacles, but there were none close by to comment or question the display. “What does that matter to us? Of what use is it, practically or philosophically?”

  “I wondere' much the same.” Lwo-Dvuum could almost hear Svi-Ormoth bubbling merrily on the other end of the connection. “I almost set it aside. Then I found myself thinking: this AAnn official who arreste' you and the others of your circle seems to have become a law unto himself. Now, in addition to harassing innocent Vssey, he chooses to persecute an innocent representative of an entirely different species. In so doing, it develops that his action is opposed even by others of his own kin'.”

  “We don't know that this human creature is innocent.”

  “The AAnn who shelter him think so. I know: I managed to fin' and rea' the report. It must say that the creature who is the cause of so much upset does not look very threatening.”

  Lwo-Dvuum sucked in enough air to make the domed upper third of the squat body temporarily swell upward. “That was very brave of you.”

  To the specialist's credit, no attempt was made to ride the compliment. “Don't you perceive the deeper possibilities, educator? If this incident can be publicize', we can show how the AAnn maltreat not only Vssey, but the innocents of other species as well. It does not matter whether the human is innocent of the charges this Takuuna has lai' against him or not. What does matter is that the population be made to see it that way. We can use the current state of commotion surrounding this human to expose the population to the true nature of the AAnn in a way that we cannot when their actions are solely directe' against us.”

  The last exit to the educators' lounge appeared around a corner. Lwo-Dvuum ignored it as the walkway continued to trundle on past. “Why shoul' the population respon' to the predicament of an unfamiliar alien?”

  “Because,” came the triumphant reply, “the human has lost its memory! It is an innocent in every sense of the wor'. If the scaled ones will accuse and harass a sentient with no memory, it suggests that no individual, no matter how guiltless, is safe from the indifferent vindictiveness of AAnn authority. At the least, any substantial public reaction shoul' make our own authorities think again about how much cooperation to exten' to these AAnn who are living and working here among us.”

  The more Lwo-Dvuum thought about it, the more efficacious the suggestion sounded. By directing support to an alien such as the human, no one could accuse the circle of attempting to shield one of its own. They could show that even other AAnn resented the activities of the Authority that had been put in charge of the investigation into the two incidents.

  The human itself, of course, was incidental. Surely it could not object to the Vssey raising a defense on its behalf. Riding the walkway and plotting in silence, LwoDvuum wondered if the human actually might be involved in some way with the two attacks that had been made against the AAnn presence. It seemed unlikely. SviOrmoth had said that the creature had lost its memory. That raised the intriguing question of why the interrogator Takuuna was so interested in it.

  The more he pondered the state of affairs, the more Lwo-Dvuum saw possible benefits to the cause. The educator remembered wishing, some time ago, for something different with which to unsettle the AAnn. An incident. A diversion. An event. It was entirely possible that the resourceful Svi-Ormoth had found one.

  Use the case of the human to aggravate the AAnn. It was an invigorating idea. What the human might think of it, the educator could not imagine. Perhaps, as events developed, Lwo-Dvuum might find the opportunity to meet the creature and learn what there was about it that so interested the detested AAnn official.

  Meanwhile, the ever-expanding circle would use the case of the human to further their own interests. Without having met it, without even being familiar with its species, Lwo-Dvuum already considered the human an ally. Whether the human had any opinion on the matter was not important. Anything that unsettled the AAnn benefited the Vssey. With luck, the situation might even be used to sway the AAnn's greatest ally: the indecisiveness of Vsseyan public opinion.

  Save the poor human. See how the AAnn truly treat sentients other than themselves, even one devoid of memory. Lwo-Dvuum was much pleased. The educator could see the leaders on the mass communications readings already.

  As he made his way through the administrative compound, Takuuna wondered what Keliichu wanted that required the administrator's corporeal presence. He was very busy and wondered, sensibly, why information could not be exchanged via communicator. Passed into the chief administrator's inner sanctum, he did not have to wait long to find out.

  Keliichu was upset. That much was readily apparent. Takuuna immediately slipped into defensive mode, his sandaled feet instinctively seeking firmer purchase on the smooth floor.

  “I thought, truly, that the human sspy in whosse company you sspent time wass dead.”

  More than a little taken aback, Takuuna sought to gather his thoughts. “Truly, I thought the ssame, respected Adminisstrator. I ssaw him plunge over the edge of Ssaudaun Chasm. When I went to look over the sside, there wass no ssign of him.”

  “There iss now.” At the terse wave of a hand, several images in succession materialized above the chief administrator's desk.

  Takuuna recognized the human Flinx instantly. He also recognized at least one of the AAnn beside him: it was the attractive female from the Ssaiinn complex.

  “Yess, I know. He dwellss among the missguided artissanss of the Tier of Ssaiinn, who live in issolation far out on the Smuldaar Plateau. I too wass only recently made aware of hiss unexpected and inexplicable ssurvival, and have only jusst returned from traveling there to bring him in for quesstioning. Unfortunately, the memberss of the Tier, operating under a ssysstem normal nye can only pity, refus
sed to let him return with me. Outrageouss, truly! Naturally, not wanting to provoke a confrontation with helpless artissanss, I wass compelled to return to Sskokossass to ssee to ssome necessary legalitiess. Thesse are now in hand. It wass my intention, truly, to return to the Tier'ss complex later thiss very day to bring the ssoftsskin in.”

  “No,” hissed Keliichu.

  Takuuna almost swallowed his tongue. “ ‘No,’ honored Adminisstrator? You do not wissh me to recover the human sspy?”

  Keliichu's tone was unrelenting. “Firsstly, Secondary Adminisstrator Takuuna, we do not know that the human iss in fact a sspy, or a persson of ssubverssive intent who hass been working with Vsseyan dissidentss.”

  “Honored one, I musst protesst! My perssonal experience clearly indicated that—”

  “Calm yoursself, Takuuna. If the human hass indeed losst hiss memory, as our own people of thiss Tier inssisst, then it doess not matter what he wass—truly?”

  “But he could recover thosse dangerouss memoriess at any time, resspected Keliichu,” Takuuna protested earnestly.

  “Perhapss. In any casse, the circumsstances ssurrounding the ssoftsskin have changed. Have you had occassion to recently view the latesst planetary media?”

  Yet again Takuuna was confronted by a combination of request and accusation whose immediate significance escaped him. “Directing the sspecial unit occupiess the great majority of my time, venerated Keliichu. I am afraid I have no time for perussing the ussual lugubriouss native drivel.”

  Keliichu gestured third-degree understanding, oddly punctuated with second-degree irony. “Perhapss you sshould allocate it a little of your preciouss time.” Another wave of his hand replaced the images of Flinx and AAnn artists with selections from the general Vsseyan media. Surprisingly, these in turn also contained images of the human, though Takuuna could not read the accompanying local script. He had never wasted any time learning it.

  He did not have to strain for clarification because without pausing Keliichu proceeded to interpret it for him. “It sseemss that word of your previouss attempt to take the human into cusstody got out. There hass been a leak ssome-where.” As Takuuna started to protest, the chief administrator waved him off. “How or where doess not matter now. We have the reality of it to deal with. And the reality iss that at leasst an influential portion of the Vsseyan public now believess that the repressentativess of the Empire are only interessted in perssecuting non-AAnn, irresspective of sspeciess. In conssequence, they have taken up the causse of thiss human, legally admitted to Jasst, who iss obvioussly no danger to anyone ssince he hass no memory. It doess not help that certain of our own kind, however missguided they may be, have taken him in and placed him under their protection.” Another curt hand wave, and the multiple images vanished.

  Takuuna stood stunned. How had the Vssey found out about Flinx's presence among the Tier? More significantly, how had they learned of his, Takuuna's, attempt to take him into custody? A leak, indeed, as the chief administrator had suggested, and clearly somewhere within general administrative services itself. It would have to be found and dealt with.

  Meanwhile, as Keliichu had so understatedly pointed out, there was the reality to deal with. Standing there before the senior administrator, Takuuna realized he simply should have shot the human when he'd had the chance.

  “What if the human iss faking thiss loss of memory, esteemed Keliichu? He could be ussing it as a cover while he continuess to provide advice and assistance to the Vsseyan dissenterss.”

  “With what?” Keliichu was not convinced by the argument. “If the ssoftsskin had access to some kind of transsmitter, iss it not likely hiss hosstss, however otherwisse deluded they may be in their lifesstyle, would have found it by now? And if he wass faking the loss of memory, would they not alsso have disscerned that by thiss time? He hass apparently been living in closse quarterss with the Tier ever ssince your confrontation with him. And, anyway, fsstsst, as I have mentioned, eventss have overtaken hiss ssituation. You cannot take him into cusstody. Whatever he iss, whatever he may have done in the passt, iss of less importance than the bad publicity your attempt to arresst him hass engendered. We cannot rissk a recurrence right now. Perhapss in the future, when thiss fuss hass died down and the Vsseyan public hass losst interesst in the case.”

  But they couldn't wait, Takuuna knew. Because the longer they waited, the greater the chance that the human might recover his memories. Particularly one involving a confrontation on the rim of Saudaunn Chasm. Though Takuuna had no particular reason to think that his own superiors, Chief Administrator Keliichu, for example, would take the word of a human over that of a respected nye, there was no telling what the members of the mentally addled Tier might believe. It was not a possibility to be risked.

  As he had informed Keliichu, he had finally obtained the necessary order of second-degree emergency. He was now legally empowered to remove the human from the confines of the Tier by force. Previous notions notwithstanding, he no longer had any intention of bringing him back to Skokosas for questioning. Things were becoming too complicated for such games. Once the human had perished “accidentally,” Takuuna would make all the necessary apologies. There would be condemnation for his defiance of Keliichu's directive. He would be censured. But in the end, it was only the life of a single human. Surely there could be no great, lasting harm to his ambitions?

  As if reading his thoughts, Keliichu told him, “Did you know, Honorable Adminisstrator, that certain radical Vssey are even arguing in favor of requessting the Commonwealth to esstablissh a formal mission here, on Jasst? ‘For the protection of itss citizenss,’ or sso the principals ssay.”

  Takuuna swallowed. Events had indeed ballooned beyond imagining. “I had no idea, venerated Keliichu, that thingss had progressed sso far.”

  “A Commonwealth mission. To be followed, inevitably, by a conssulate, and then an embassy, and that iss the end of our opportunity to quietly integrate Jasst into the Empire. All becausse of one lone wandering human. If he iss an agent of the hated Commonwealth, he could not have arranged eventss better to ssuit the purpossess of hiss government.” The chief administrator's hissing fell. “Damnable sslippery ssoftsskins are everywhere anymore. One cannot travel anywhere in the Army without encountering them. The stars stink of their presence.” Takuuna indicated his understanding.

  “Sso you ssee, Secondary Administrator Takuuna, why the besst thing for now iss ssimply to ignore the ssoftsskin. Gradually, thiss agitation among the Vssey will fade. Then we can determine how besst to proceed.”

  Takuuna gestured second-degree acknowledgment even as he knew that the human Flinx could not be ignored. He had to die—and soon. There was, of course, the chance that his reputed memory loss might be truly permanent. It was a chance the administrator felt he could not afford to take. Furthermore, from what he knew of the Commonwealth government, its bureaucracy moved no more swiftly than that of any non-AAnn regime. By the time anyone thought humans on distant Jast needed Commonwealth protection, there would no longer be any to protect.

  It was all very risky, but a risk he was prepared to take.

  “It sshall sslither as you ssay, honored Keliichu.” He started to back out of the office. “In the abssence of ssolid proof that the human is at leasst partially ressponssible for the incidentss in which our brethren died, he sshould be left alone.”

  “I am pleassed that you undersstand.” Keliichu had already turned away from his visitor and back to the work at hand.

  Takuuna left upper Administration fuming. This was all the fault of that obstinate Tier! He should have ignored them and simply taken the human when he'd had the chance. It would be just as easy to do so now. It was the aftermath that was going to be complicated. But he would manage. In departing the senior administrator's presence, he had managed to plant the notion in the mind of that wimpish worthy that it just might be permissible to deal with the human if real proof could be found that it was complicit in the deaths of so many AAnn. Eviden
ce could be manufactured. It might not be conclusive, but that was not necessary. All that was required would be for Takuuna to produce data that called the human's purported innocence into question. This could, in turn, be laid before the Vssey and the Vsseyan media. It was not necessary to prove—only to create controversy.

  The farther he got from Keliichu's office, the more confident Takuuna became. Already, a new scheme was forming in his mind. Cast suspicion on the human, discredit the Tier, raise enough questions and concerns about the entire matter, and accusation and blame would dissolve in a morass of misunderstanding and uncertainty. Meanwhile, if fortune favored him, his unit might at last crack the identity of the actual dissidents. Subjected to appropriate questioning, one or two of them might even be persuaded to identify the human as a source of counsel and assistance in their murderous activities. Since the human in question would already be dead, there would be no opportunity for potentially disconcerting rebuttal.

  Although he did not know it, part of his plan was already coming to fruition—several days too soon.

  * * *

  Joofik WWLONDK was proud of his thoroughness. Like any responsible, ambitious, dedicated AAnn worker, he kept the results of his downtime work to himself.

  It hadn't been all that difficult, really. All that was needed was a different approach. With everyone else in his section chewing the scales off their lips as they struggled to find leads to the well-organized bands of violence-prone Vsseyan dissidents, Joofik decided, in his free time, to utilize the considerable resources available at his disposal to try to find just one potential extremist. In the frantic, expensive search for large groups of radicals it would be easy to overlook a single fanatic.

  And that was exactly what he had found: one.

  The first thing he did was eliminate all the vocal dissident Vsseyan philosophical groups. To Joofik, they were too obvious, their profile too high. Given the dead-slow speed (at least compared with that of the average AAnn) at which the Vssey accomplished anything, and the need to arrive at a group consensus before doing anything at all, it seemed to Joofik that the more Vssey who were involved in an enterprise, the longer it would take to get going. Whatever could be surmised about whoever had twice attacked AAnn facilities, they had worked swiftly and with dispatch. That suggested fewer Vsseyan minds at work, not more. Following that line of reasoning to its ultimate conclusion, one Vssey could theoretically move faster than any faction.