"If there is a future," Bleys said.
Padma smiled again, almost shyly; but he said nothing.
Bleys, looking down into the eyes that watched him so alertly, realized he had totally forgotten that the man before him was small and old. He found himself wondering if there might be some way to sit with this man and discuss—and at that moment, a chime sounded softly out of the air.
"The gathering is almost in place," Chavis said, "and Hal Mayne has arrived. Do you still wish to address us?"
"I do," Bleys said. He had not had a chance to ask what the subject of the gathering might be, he realized; but he shrugged, mentally, willing to deal with whatever came.
"Then come with us," Chavis said.
Moving slowly out of deference to Padma's age, Chavis led them all back out of the glade, through a door and down a short hall. When they came to a set of double doors of a black wood, Sulaya stayed behind while the rest of them passed through.
Bleys found himself standing near what appeared to be the main stage of a small amphitheater, but he had no time to look about as the two Exotics led him up onto the stage and across it, to the place at its center-front where light seemed to focus out of nowhere. The light, although bright, was not uncomfortable, but Bleys found himself unable to focus on the audience, already in place but extraordinarily quiet. His first estimate told him there were possibly two hundred faces looking up, across, and down at him—and yet, when he tried to pick out a single face with which to make eye contact, his vision seemed to blur, and he felt as if the faces on each side of the one he was looking into became dozens of faces, hundreds of faces, looking back at him across a distance that was impossible within this small theater.
With that realization, he knew he was in the middle of another piece of the Exotics' advanced technology, and that this room must be large enough to require the operation of some sort of telescopic effect. He wondered if the effect worked in both directions, and if his audience could also see him as if at a short distance.
"Hal Mayne is on his way," Padma said. His voice, still hoarse, now carried a weight of years, and there was no smile on his face. Chavis, Bleys saw, had vanished somewhere.
"How many people are here?" Bleys asked.
"Almost everyone is here," Padma said; but before Bleys could question what that cryptic statement meant, there was a sound off to his side; and he turned to sec Hal Mayne moving toward him across the stage, accompanied by a small, wrinkled Exotic in a light gray robe.
Hal Mayne loomed like a mountain over his companion, and was obviously measuring his steps to avoid outpacing his guide. He wore a short jacket over rough, dark-gray ship's coveralls; and for a moment Bleys felt overdressed in his tailored gray jacket and narrow-legged dark gray trousers.
Bleys wondered if Hal Mayne had a similar reaction at the sight of Bleys towering over Padma; he started to look sideways at the elderly Exotic ... and in that moment Hal was right there in front of him, looking him straight in the eyes, and Bleys realized he didn't know what to say to this man.
"Hal Mayne would prefer that Bleys Ahrens speaks first," said the unnamed small Exotic.
"Of course," Bleys murmured. He was dismayed to find he was once more feeling the tiredness that had come over him after their last meeting, in the Final Encyclopedia. He felt as if he were being left out of something, something he would have liked to belong to.... He turned his face away from Hal, to appear to be looking out across the amphitheater.
"I'll leave you to it, then," Hal said; and he turned and led the elderly Exotics back off the side of the platform, where they seemed to vanish into the darkness.
Alone on the bare black stage, Bleys battled despair, wondering how he could reach this audience of aliens that waited so silently before him ... he could not seem to make eye contact with any of them, could not seem to feel them . . . and he still did not know the purpose of this gathering.
They're here to listen to Hal Mayne, he reminded himself. They must be about to make some sort of decision.
He made himself take a moment to control his breathing.
You never expected to win them over, anyway, so what've you got to lose?
He squared up his stance, and spread his arms wide to his sides, at shoulder height.
"Will you listen to me?" he asked "For a few moments only, will you listen to me—without preconceptions, without already existing opinions, as if I were a petitioner at your gates whom you'd never heard before?"
Still there was no reaction, but he dropped his arms slowly to his sides, as if they had agreed to his plea.
"It's painful, I know," he said. He spoke slowly, measuring his words out a syllabic at a time, as if that would somehow drive them through the wall of distance he felt before him.
"Always, it is painful when times change; when everything we've come to take for granted has to be reexamined. All at once, our firmest and our most cherished beliefs have to be pulled out by the roots, out of those very places where we'd always expected them to stand forever, and subjected to the same sort of remorseless scrutiny we'd give to the newest and wildest of our theories or thoughts."
He paused, to move his gaze about the amphitheater as if trying to look into every eye.
"Yes, it's painful," he said; but he allowed no sad note in his voice. He wanted to be all of History speaking to them. He wanted to be Authority.
"But we all know it happens. We all have to face that sort of self-reexamination, sooner or later. But of all peoples, those I'd have expected to face this task the best would have been the people of Mara and Kultis."
He tried then to raise his voice in exortation, as if he were one of the gifted preachers he had heard so often on Association, calling them to redemption.
"Haven't you given your lives, and the lives of all your generations, to that principle, ever since you ceased to call yourselves the Chantry Guild and came here to these Exotic Worlds, searching for the future of humankind? Not just searching toward that future by ways you found pleasant and palatable, but by all the ways to it you could find, agreeable or not? Isn't that so?"
Now he glared at them, as if defying them to argue with him— with someone they had to know was correct about everything. .. .
"You've grown into the two worlds of people who dominated the economies of all the inhabited worlds—so that you wouldn't have to spare time from your search to struggle for a living. You've bought and sold armies so that you'd be free of fighting, and of all the emotional commitment that's involved in it—all so you'd have the best possible conditions to continue your work, your search.
"Now, after all those many years of putting that search first, you seem ready to put it in second place to a taking of sides, in a transient, present-day dispute. I tell you frankly—because by inheritance I'm one of you, as I think you know—that even if it should be the side I find myself on that you wish to join, at the expense of your long struggle to bring about humanity's future, I'd still stand here as I do now, and ask you to think again of what you have to lose by doing so."
He stopped, trying again to focus on his audience; but their faces continued to elude his attempts to hold them with his eyes. He could find no reaction out there....
There was no sound for the long moment in which he waited; until finally he stepped backward, as if dismissing them; and stood in place for a moment more.
"That's all that I've come here to say to you," he said at last. He felt deflated. "That's all there is. The rest, the decision, I leave to you.
He stood there for a moment longer, silent, still waiting for them to react... he knew it was futile, but he could not help it—he needed some sign from them.
But there was nothing; and at last he turned and walked off the platform.
Once out of the light, he could see that Hal Mayne, Padma and the other tiny Exotic were awaiting him, standing before a group of chairs. But nothing had changed.
"I'd like to speak privately to these people," Hal said as Bleys r
eached them.
That s it then, Bleys told himself.
He made himself smile, and nodded. He let himself be led away by the elderly Exotic who had been Hal Mayne's guide, who seemed to scurry now to keep up with the long strides Bleys found himself using. Bleys forced himself to slow down, so as not to seem to be running away; and in a moment he was through the doors and had been turned over to Sulaya again, who led him away.
CHAPTER 40
"I was never actually told what the meeting was about," Bleys, back on Association, said, "but the fact they were waiting for Hal Mayne to come back and speak to them tells me they were listening to some plan of his. I think he was off the planet dealing with the Dorsai. I think he's persuaded them to come to Mara to defend the Exotics against us."
"The fact they were waiting for him doesn't mean the Exotics agreed to his plan," she said.
"By itself, no," Bleys said. "But I think the Exotics I met had already decided. It was in their eyes, and their attitudes. It's the only possibility that fits the intelligence that's been telling us the Dorsai have been bringing their ships and people back to their planet— they can only be preparing for some large move."
"You were on Mara and dealt with those people," she said, "so I can't argue with you about that. But I find it hard to believe the Dorsai would make a move that would leave their own planet defenseless ... although it's true they have a myth about defending it with women and children."
"It's the only thing that makes sense," Bleys said. "They wouldn't be gathering their assets if they weren't planning major action. I don't think it can be a coincidence that while they've been gathering, the Exotics have been moving their own wealth, ships, and mobile technological resources—even many of their most important experts; and it's no coincidence they held that meeting on Mara. So what else makes sense?"
"I can believe the Dorsai are planning something," she said. "But the only reason to think they're going to Mara are a few reports of a rumor among the Exotics to that effect. It could be wrong."
"The Dorsai can only go to a planet that wants them," Bleys said. "Remember when I said that to fight, they need a place to stand on? The only planets that might want them are planets that think they're in military danger—that can only be the Exotics."
"Why not Old Earth?"
"Old Earth doesn't think it's in any danger," Bleys said. "The Final Encyclopedia and Hal Mayne know better, but they haven't even tried to convince Old Earth yet, even though Dahno's people have been working there to stir up dissension. It would be the worst possible move for Mayne—nothing would alienate Earth-men more than five million Dorsai showing up uninvited on their doorstep."
He turned away and moved toward his desk.
"In the end it really doesn't matter," he said. "No matter where the Dorsai go, they'll have to sit in their defenses and wait for us to come. Even if they want to come out and attack us on nine worlds, there just aren't enough of them; they'd be worn down by attrition." He activated his screen.
"This gives us a chance to make a move they won't be expecting," he said.
"You were already sure war was coming," Toni said; "how much has the situation changed?"
"I figured it might well get down to war," Bleys said, absentmindedly correcting her as he inserted a chip he had brought with him from the ship. "Eventually. I thought it was some time off and we'd have ample time to get ourselves ready while Hal Mayne struggled to get his side organized." He looked up at her.
"Hal Mayne now has the Exotics working with him, the Final Encyclopedia behind him—and the Dorsai up to something... I think we can expect action sooner rather than later."
He touched a control, and his eyes turned again to his screen.
"There's an opportunity here to do something Mayne and his friends could never expect," he said. "I spent the trip back drawing up plans to speed our mobilization—I still want to keep it undercover, to avoid raising any more alarms on Old Earth than we have to. But we have a lot to do: we need to find ways to get more information about how Old Earth is likely to react when the Dorsai make their move—and on what the Exotics and the Dorsai are planning." He looked at her again.
"I'm going to be sending messages right away to our people on all the Younger Worlds, and I'll be following up with personal visits. I'd like you to find out how to get the messages to those Worlds as quickly as possible; when that's done, set up a new trip . . . think about what needs to be done to have four or five courier ships along. I want to start with New Earth."
"Are those Soldiers Henry sent still on Old Earth?" Bleys asked, two hours later.
"I think so," Toni said. "Henry didn't want to call them back until he'd heard from you."
"Leave them there," Bleys said. "We'll want to have them monitoring public opinion on the planet and reporting back."
"That's not exactly the sort of thing the Soldiers are good at," she pointed out. "Most of them there aren't intelligence specialists."
"Maybe we should send a few intelligence people to join them, then," Bleys said. "I know John Colville's there; he's got a good head on his shoulders and would be a good choice to lead the effort."
"I was about to point out that the non-specialists might be able to see things the specialists miss," Toni said. "They're more like average people in the way they look at things."
"Why don't you ask Henry for his suggestions?" Bleys said. "But don't forget I want to get off on this trip right away."
The sky was gray when Bleys climbed out of the armored limousine in which he had ridden to his appointment with Hammer Martin and three of Freiland's top political leaders. The vehicles that had escorted his were now hovering around him, trying to create a wall between Bleys and the crowd of workers lining the edges of the factory's parking lot. Those workers seemed to be yelling, but Bleys could not make out any words.
"This way, Great Teacher," a voice said from behind Bleys. He turned, to see Maryam Kors, one of Martin's staff. She had a portable weather shield ready, in case the cold rain returned; there were puddles on the ground, and the cold wind suggested more weather might be coming in.
Bleys had not been cold very often in his life, but this was a time when he could wish he had worn a thick coat—but then, he had worn his red-lined cape precisely because of its usefulness in helping him capture the attention of his audiences; that was more important than personal comfort.
"Hammer, it's good to see you," Bleys said, as the senior Other on Freiland came walking to meet him.
"Great Teacher, we're all so glad you could come," Hammer said. He half-turned to indicate the crowd of people—over a dozen, Bleys thought—who had straggled behind him. "Let me introduce Thorbjorn Holder, President of the Freiland State—"
The President was tall and thin, and his long, nearly white hair was blowing in the cold breeze. He leaned forward eagerly, smiling broadly, and put out both hands to clasp the one Bleys extended.
"So pleased to meet you, Great Teacher! I've been listening to your talks for years . .. oh, allow me to present my wife...."
It was going to be a long afternoon, Bleys thought. He had already lost count of how many times he had been dragged out to visit munitions factories, vehicle assembly lines, spaceship fitting yards....
Its necessary, he reminded himself.
"It's tricky."
Back on New Earth for the third time in two months, Bleys and Toni were waiting in the lounge of their suite for the arrival of Marshal Cuslow Damar, whose Friendly troops had been effectively in control of the planet for several years now.
"The Marshal's convoy is driving up," Toni said. She had just received that news from the staff lower in the hotel, who communicated with Bleys through her. "What's tricky?"
"Trying to get the Younger Worlds ready for a war that will have to involve Old Earth, without arousing the mother planet herself,"
Bleys said. "You've seen the reports that Rukh Tamani's shown up there. She can only be there to drum up opposition to us."
"What about our own people?" Toni asked. "Whatever Dahno may be up to, by all reports his people have continued pushing divisions in the populace."
"Old Earth may be in for a war of preachers," Bleys said. "I can't say who's likely to win."
"But Dahno's people have the persuasive abilities you've taught them," she said.
"That he taught them," Bleys said. "Some of them, yes. But John Colville's reports suggest Rukh Tamani has a similar ability. He's been following her about, listening to her, and she's apparently a spellbinder."
"She had that reputation on Harmony," Toni said. "Could she counter Dahno's work?"
"We never needed our people on Old Earth to convince Earth-men to join us," Bleys said. "All we need is for them to continue divided over how to react to us. Most of them were unnoticing and uncaring when Dahno's campaign started, and those who cared were divided. I don't see that changing."
"Even if Tamani manages to arouse Old Earth," Toni said, "it'll take a long time to get it moving in a single direction. You've always emphasized that. We've already got a huge jump on them."
"Which is why our best way to avoid total war will be to make a pre-emptive strike."
"At Old Earth? What about the Dorsai and the Exotics?"
"If we attacked the Exotics and the Dorsai, we'd rouse Old Earth from its sleep," he said. "They might not come out to take part, but they'd be ready when we got around to them. On the other hand, the Exotics and the Dorsai won't be able to do much if we deal with Old Earth first—they'll just be sitting there in a defensive posture, waiting for us to get around to them." He smiled.
Antagonist - Childe Cycle 11 Page 39