Powers That Be

by Anne McCaffrey

  Whittaker nodded, though Yana thought Clodagh was being uncharacteristically and unrealistically charitable toward Giancarlo and far too hopeful about his adaptability. The man was as rigid as the company rule book.

  “I’ll tell you what I can, Dr. Fiske,” Sean said, leaning forward to plant his elbows on his knees. “And what I’ve learned about Petaybee. First, we’ve never tried to keep anyone deliberately in the dark about this, but as you can imagine, it’s a little hard to explain and make anyone believe us. All we know is this: when your great-grandfather’s terraforming process had been completed and the planet ready for occupation, a proper ecological mix was determined by the Intergal specialists.”

  Sean had washed off the last of the ash and was wearing pants and a gray cable-knit sweater borrowed from Sinead. With his silver eyes and silvery hair, he reminded Yana of the way she had seen him on the shores of the little stream when she had mistaken him for a seal. She ran her hand softly down his arm from elbow to wrist, and he captured the hand in his own and squeezed, as he continued speaking. “My grandfather, as the Intergal biogeneticist, was asked to make what biological changes were necessary to adapt animals who could function in this planet’s harsh climate and be useful to inhabitants where machinery and technology would prove inadequate. He did so, supplying us with an ecological chain that includes plants, trees, grain, food beasts, and those that could be used in a variety of tasks, such as the sled dogs, curly-coats, moose, deer, the other small food and fur animals, birds, insects: all viable on this cold, snowbound planet. All of us here, the vegetation and we more movable creatures, were influenced by his work.”

  “But he went much further than he should have,” Torkel said, less belligerently; more in dismay.

  “Not deliberately. He was, like yourselves, a scientist, and he didn’t reckon on the planet being a part of his equation. Once awakened, it had its own agenda and entered into the spirit of the changes—taking the ones Grandda made and improving on them now and then, when it felt these alterations were necessary. Those of us who have lived out our lives on Petaybee, like Lavelle, are more affected by those changes than the young people who volunteer for service off-planet. I have never left Petaybee. I know I never can.” He smiled with great charm. “I don’t wish to leave Petaybee. It has made me part of it, the way it is part of me.”

  Torkel shook his head, half denying, half agreeing. “That’s not enough for me, Shongili. What happened to us in there? It wasn’t brainwashing—not as I know it,” he added, puzzled.

  “The planet was telling you how it felt about what you’ve been doing to it,” Sean said.

  Torkel twitched, grimacing, seemingly unable yet to accept that explanation. “Well, I still don’t understand how you got the planet to do what it’s been doing over the past few days. Starting volcanoes, earthquakes, breaking up the rivers six weeks too soon . . .”

  Sean shrugged. “I didn’t get it to do anything, Fiske. It planned its own defense. I’ve done nothing but see that its messages are delivered.”

  “Which only you can interpret?”

  Sean shook his head. “You and I had the same experience there in the cavern, Fiske. You can interpret it as well as I can, if you just stop trying to deny what you felt. You can’t deny what you personally experienced, can you? If you had rejected it as completely as you’re trying to, you’d be in the same shape as Frank Metaxos. All I did—all any of us did—was to try to protect you from your own stubborn idiocy and put the right people in the right place at the right time for Petaybee to deliver its own message. It did that in the cave.”

  “And what, exactly, was the message that we both received, as you understand it?” Whittaker Fiske asked, his face full of lively curiosity rather than challenge.

  “The message is that Petaybee is a living and sentient entity, Dr. Fiske,” Sean answered imperturbably. “It does not wish to have its skin blown open, its flesh dug and taken away, its substance reduced, its children hunted, harried, or removed against their will. It is pleased to have been awakened, and it is more than willing to share itself: including, I might add, some valuable processes, which can benefit you and your superiors, that you’re not even aware exist on this planet.”

  “Like Clodagh’s medicines,” Yana chimed in. “I’d think the company would have a lot of use for a cough medicine that can actually heal lungs as badly damaged as mine were.”

  Torkel regarded her with surprise, then turned thoughtful while his father nodded sagely.

  “Not to mention that boneset stuff,” Dr. Fiske added, running his fingers across the hardened cast. “Simple things that have multiple applications and no side effects. Go on, Shongili.”

  “Petaybee has been particularly distressed,” Sean said, “by the increase of traffic at the SpaceBase. The planet was able to buffer the area under SpaceBase to allow a certain amount of necessary comings and goings, but that amount has now exceeded the safety margin and must cease. Petaybee does not wish to have to feed and supply the numbers now massing in the SpaceBase, as these numbers would be a burden on its resources, especially this time of year, before the growing season.”

  “It was glad to see that some of us who left here as kids have come home, at least to visit, though,” John Greene said. He and O’Shay had been wolfing down a casserole Aisling brought over earlier. “I was given a real welcome in the cave. Didn’t know it remembered me.”

  “You and O’Shay have a lot to answer for, Captain,” Torkel said. “Like why you didn’t place everyone under arrest when you saw that we were being detained in the cavern.”

  O’Shay shrugged. “Like the man says, Cap’n, we’re native-born. We got more sense than to interfere when a latchkay’s starting.”

  “You’re natives?” Torkel stared at them. “No wonder I didn’t get the support I required.” He rounded on Sean then with a resurgence of his old belligerence. “Did you arrange that, too, Shongili?”

  Sean shrugged. “You give me more credit than I deserve. The presence of Captains Greene and O’Shay is pure serendipity, Fiske. No harm’s come to you, so I don’t see that the personnel involved matters.”

  “I don’t put anything past you, Shongili,” Torkel said, and striding to the door, he opened it and beckoned a guard inside. “I want one of those portable comm links from headquarters. Bring it here on the double. We’ll just check out a thing or two about the disposition of Petaybeans on this project.”

  The guard snapped a salute, and Yana thought she saw a little smile playing at the edges of his mouth. Yana wondered about that, and began to suspect what Torkel would find about the disposition and composition of Intergal troops currently on duty in Petaybee. She noticed that Steve Margolies was looking exceedingly thoughtful: he kept glancing from Torkel to Sean to Dr. Fiske, but whatever was worrying him he kept to himself.

  “You keep speaking of these adaptations, son,” Dr. Fiske said to Sean, with an air of getting back to important matters. “Just what do they consist of?”

  “The most important,” Sean said, his voice filled with the sort of excitement that the other two scientists, more than anyone else in the room, were best equipped to understand and share, “is how Petaybee—not I or my grandfather—improved, beyond their previous capabilities, the perceptions of some of the more intelligent species.”

  “Like the pussycats here with Frank?” Steve Margolies asked.

  “Yes, and like this,” Sean said, and lifted his hand and closed his eyes. In a moment there was a scratching at the window and a whining at the door. One of the guards opened the door to admit Dinah, who was leading a weakly smiling Francisco Metaxos, followed by Aisling. Clodagh opened the window to admit Nanook, who jumped down across the sill in one fluid motion, walked calmly over to Whittaker Fiske, put one saucer-sized paw on the man’s uninjured arm, and said “Meh,” quite clearly.

  “My word!” Dr. Fiske leaned away, staring at the cat. “You asked it to come and do this?”

  Sean nodded wh
ile Nanook gave a burst of purr, marched to Torkel, and repeated the performance.

  Torkel started to shove Nanook away but stopped, giving Sean a puzzled look. “It’s telling me that Giancarlo is resting well, thanks to it.”

  “Him,” Sean said. “Nanook is male. And he likes his ears scratched. Most of the felines here have the ability to soothe troubled, or sick, minds. They’ll carry messages, lead people across dangerous terrain, and hunt when that’s necessary.”

  Dinah, tongue lolling from her open mouth, waited until Metaxos was safely deposited in a chair between Diego and Steve, then pranced up to Fiske. She gave a bit of a whine before she pushed her nose at his arm and held it there a moment.

  “Talking cats and dogs?” Dr. Fiske asked, eyes round with amazement.

  “Telepathic, actually,” Sean said. “When they choose to be. Dinah, as a lead dog, had no trouble communicating about trail conditions and finding her way across frozen wastes. She had bonded most effectively with Lavelle, the woman who died when Captain Fiske and Colonel Giancarlo had her removed from Petaybee. Nanook has a close bond with me, but is actually a pretty social creature.”

  “And Clodagh’s cats—” Yana began, but Clodagh shot her a look and she subsided. No need to tell the offworlders everything. Not more than they needed to convince them. Not just yet. So Yana made no mention about unicorned curly stallions, intelligent seals, and trained ravens. Sean’s hand dropped to the back of her neck and kneaded it gently as he watched the reaction of the Fiskes and Margolies.

  “Telepathic sled dogs and felines . . .” Dr. Fiske said, shaking his head.

  “Your granddad was one busy guy.” Torkel snorted. Nanook dug his claws into Torkel’s leg, ever so slightly. “Ouch!”

  “Grandfather developed several types of large felines and canines suitable to this icy climate, but, as I said, Petaybee improved on his work many times over the years. Give Petaybee a chance, and it will improve on anything you ask it to. Isn’t that much better than blasting the planet apart for mere minerals and ores which the company can surely find on lifeless asteroids and planets?”

  Dr. Fiske sighed. “Ah, now I suppose we come to the crux of all this. If I understood it correctly, Petaybee is extremely grateful for its life, but not grateful enough to endure our resource development plans? That’s why the teams have disappeared or been killed?”

  Frank Metaxos cleared his throat and said in a rusty voice, “It wasn’t intentional, Whit. I—freaked out, as Diego would say, what with the blizzard followed by that intense psychical input. I understand now that what I sensed in the cave was only this same explanation. And—incredible as it seems—something of an apology. Perhaps Petaybee could adjust its climate a bit for those of us who aren’t used to such extreme conditions.”

  “Actually, Petaybee’s extremely hospitable, if you’re willing to take the hospitality on its own terms,” Clodagh told him. To Dr. Fiske she added, “Petaybee offers you more than you could ever take from it by force. This doesn’t have to be a fight.”

  “That’s right,” Yana said, leaning forward and talking with all the persuasion at her command. “The company’s just been trying to develop the wrong things so far. This planet offers absolutely unique opportunities to study its inner life—providing you can find some extremely dedicated people able for the challenge. And that’s the resource the company most needs to develop—the people.”

  “I suppose we could send scientists down to instruct them in the proper procedure,” Dr. Fiske said slowly.

  “You send them,” Clodagh said, nodding. “We’ll teach proper procedure. But you’ll see, it will work.”

  “We’ll send equipment—comm units, computer link-ups.”

  “Some maybe,” Clodagh said. “But not too many. Too noisy. Petaybee wouldn’t like it. Just send a couple of teachers who don’t mind the cold and can teach us reading and writing. That’s quieter.”

  Just then the guard returned with the comm link Torkel had sent for. Torkel accepted the equipment and set it on his knees.

  “Now then, we’ll see what’s going on here,” he said. “Computer, I want files on O’Shay . . .”

  “Richard Arnaluk, sir,” O’Shay helpfully provided.

  “And Greene . . .”

  “John Kevin Intiak Greene the Third, sir,” Greene told him. “My crew members were Corporal Winona Sorenson, deceased, Specialist Fourth Class Ingunuk J. Keelaghan, deceased, Lieutenant Michael Huyukchuk, wounded in action—”

  “Wait a minute,” Torkel said. “These names sound Petay-bean.”

  O’Shay shrugged. “They are—native-born or Petaybean stock. Same’s true, I think, for most of the replacement troops shipped down with me. And the survivors we picked up near the volcano.”

  “Computer, access personnel list for troops transferred to planet Petaybee, code name Operation Mop-Up. Cross-reference by planet of origin or descent and provide statistical data of composition of total numbers.”

  After a moment of frantically scanning the screen, Torkel looked up suspiciously at Sean. “This can’t be right. Unless your planet can manipulate troop movements by remote control.”

  “Why? What does it say?”

  “Eighty-eight percent of the troops deployed here for Mop-Up are of Petaybean origin.”

  Sean gave a low whistle. “Imagine that. I didn’t know we’d sent so many people away. Did you, Clodagh?”

  “I sure didn’t.”

  “Computer, audio, please. Explain how such a large percentage of personnel assigned to Operation Mop-Up are of local origin.”

  “This system cross-indexed physical and psychological requirements necessary for ground duty on an arctic-type planet. The personnel selected were the best qualified to function at appropriate levels on such a planet.”

  “Torkel,” Yana said, leaning forward and slightly to the side to watch the screen. “While we’re on the subject of the quantity of Petaybean troops involved, why don’t you check statistical data concerning the service records of those with Petaybee as planet of origin as compared to those of the corps as a whole?”

  “Computer?” Torkel asked, and gave it the data request.

  “Petaybean personnel on the average receive seventy-five percent more commendations, sixty percent more bonuses, and eighty-nine percent more decorations than troops of other places of origin. However, they are promoted through the ranks ten point five times slower than other personnel, and only twenty-one point eight-nine-five percent of Petaybeans become senior officers.”

  Yana lifted her eyebrows at Torkel and permitted herself a small, smug smile. “See? These people are definitely worthwhile to the company, and definitely worth developing.”

  Torkel raised an eyebrow back at her. “As long as they’re never removed from the planet to do what they’re worth developing for?”

  Sean broke in. “Many of our people are perfectly happy to serve the company and see the universe. You just have to recruit them early.”

  “And I think if the company worked with Petaybeans on the research, compensatory devices could be used to offset the incompatibility between Petaybean adaptive characteristics and space travel,” Yana said. “That is what I was trying to tell you before.”

  Torkel shut down the comm link with a snap, and Sean grinned broadly.

  “It’s okay, son,” Dr. Fiske told Torkel.

  But Torkel shook his head uneasily. “It’s not okay, Dad. We’re in an intolerable situation, disadvantaged. There’re not only more of them, they’re the company’s best troops but, being here, their loyalty is compromised. We’re at their mercy.”

  “Fortunately for you, Captain,” Clodagh said, handing him a cup of hot drink and a hunk of bread, “we’re extremely merciful around here. Sprinkle a little of this on your bread. You’ll see how tasty it is.” She passed over an herb jar and, unusually compliant, Torkel shook it over his bread.

  Dr. Fiske smiled at his son as one of the marmalade cats jumped into Torkel’s lap
and began purring. For a moment, Torkel stiffened, wavering briefly between rejection and acceptance. He took a sip of the drink and a bite of the bread. After several more sips and bites, he gave a deep resigned sigh and finally relaxed, leaning back in his chair, the cat firmly in charge.

  “Look here,” O’Shay began tentatively, appealing to Clodagh, “if there’re that many Petaybeans come home to roost, d’you think we could have a latchkay to celebrate?”

  “The very thing,” Aisling agreed happily.

  “Now that,” Sean said, “is one of the best ideas I’ve heard in days. It would undoubtedly settle a lot of qualms and answer some of the questions you haven’t thought of yet, Dr. Fiske, Steve.”

  “Well,” Yana said, rising, “since confusion has died down to mere chaos, I’d really appreciate a decent bath and change of clothes.” She looked askance at the riddled remainder of her shirt.

  “I’m not exactly as clean as I’d like to be either,” Sean said. Also rising, he took Yana by the arm and began leading her to the door. Then he stopped. “You wouldn’t mind dismissing that guard now, would you, Captain Fiske?”

  “I will,” said Whittaker Fiske, rising and doing exactly that.

  Yana could not believe the relief that washed over her as she and Sean stepped out into the fresh air. The whilom guard had dispersed like snowmelt on a hot day. She inhaled, half expecting the previous days’ exertions to result in a paroxysm of coughing.

  “You won’t have that trouble ever again,” Sean said as he guided her toward the path to the hot springs.

  “Wait, I’ll need clothes,” she said, half towing him in the direction of her house.

  “There’s always something left about at the springs,” he said, and pulled her back to his side, grinning with a boyishness that surprised her.

  Laughing, she let herself be held. “Is it wrong of me to want to wash some of Petaybee off?” She asked, buoyant with relief and with his presence.