The Anguished Dawn

by James P. Hogan

  "I agree. See to it."

  It was clear that Walsh wasn't in a talkative mood. Nyrom took his leave and left the Control Deck.

  Walsh moved a few paces to run a cursory eye over the displays at the First Officer's station, then turned to contemplate a screen showing the external view inward toward the ship's hub. He hadn't liked even the delay between takeover of the base on Earth and arrival of the backup force that was in the plan, and had said so when it was formulated. But the political experts behind the throne had theorized that the population there would be easier to handle if there was still essential survival-related work waiting to be done. The feelings of vulnerability would make them more compliant. Walsh hadn't been overly convinced, and behind the glib talk he suspected they knew more about charts and statistics than the nature of real humans. But he was a soldier, and that was the way it had been decided. And now Zeigler had brought the date forward further still. He would be isolated there if anything went wrong. Walsh could only suppose that he had his reasons. They had better be good ones, he told himself.

  PART THREE

  The Gods

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Having taken over the ground installations and the Surya, Zeigler was effectively in control of the mission. Thinning down his forces to physically seize the Varuna beyond placing guards in the Control Center and Communications Room was not necessary, since with its power module down at Serengeti the ship wasn't about to go anywhere, and without cooperation from the ground it could accomplish little else. Its occupants were not equipped to resist armed boarders, and the ship could be taken over fully when the time was convenient.

  The real reason why the SA contingent had been included with the mission and why such a large proportion of them were disgruntled young Terrans who couldn't fit into the Kronian system, was now glaringly clear. They concealed a hard core of Pragmatist sympathizers who, given they were prepared to act ruthlessly enough, might well be sufficient to maintain their position.

  Maintain their position until what? For the moment, the majority of the base's inhabitants were at a loss. Even those who might have been capable of acting had been taken by surprise, with no plan or chance to organize. But that would change. The Terrans had a long history of finding ways to resist coercive violence, and Kronians were fast learners. Yes, for now Zeigler and his followers had the guns; but they couldn't imagine it would be possible to dictate to such a numerical majority indefinitely. Hence, they anticipated being reinforced in some way before very much longer, and consolidating their position.

  To Keene's mind, it said that taking over the Aztec had to be part of their plan too—it was already on its way to Earth with more equipment and materials, accompanied by another flotilla of supply rafts. And who knew how many more Pragmatist supporters might be included among its numbers? But it didn't necessarily follow that they would make their move there at the same time as Zeigler. In fact, it would make more sense for them to bide their time until the events on Earth could be concealed no longer. That meant there was a fair chance that the most effective way of throwing a wrench into the Pragmatists' works might be to contrive some way of getting a warning out to the Aztec—thus depriving the Pragmatists of that whole factor in the equation.

  But how? Zeigler's people controlled all communications beyond the Varuna. Keene still hadn't come up with a means that seemed viable a day after Zeigler's coup. Then Zeigler summoned him to be brought over to the Operations and Communications Dome for a "discussion."

  * * *

  Zeigler summarized from behind the desk in the room he had taken over in the office section on the upper level. Two armed guards stood inside the door, a short distance behind Keene's chair.

  "I expect you and your staff to maintain power from the Agni module as normal. Failure on that account will merely prevent the continued growth of the base toward full functionality, putting everyone out there that much the more at risk. I trust I make myself clear."

  It was blackmail. By "everyone out there" he meant all of Keene's kind—those who were not part of the takeover. Zeigler and his cohort had moved in to take full control of the OpCom dome, installing quarters for themselves on the lower level, surrounding it with a wire fence, and posting guards at the two gates. OpComs had its own standby generator, which meant that if Keene cut off the power from Agni it would only be depriving everyone else, and stopping further development of the facilities. In other words, it wouldn't do Keene a lot of good, but it could cause friction between him and some of the others out there. It was Keene's call.

  Right now, Keene could see nothing to be gained by creating further disruption. He was up against a classical no-win bind: either cooperate or risk incurring the kind of resentments that those who would divide and conquer just love to precipitate. Zeigler had also intimated without threatening openly that if forced, he would resort to taking hostages. Keene had no doubt that he meant it. Zeigler was past the point of no return and had nothing to lose by going to any extreme now. Maybe that had been his purpose.

  "Do you really think you're going to get away with this?" Keene asked. No prizes for originality, but he was fishing. In his answer, Zeigler might give away something useful.

  "Why don't you let us worry about that, Dr. Keene?" Zeigler suggested.

  "Gallian said it all. Do you think you're ever going to sleep easily at night now?"

  "I've tried to address that issue tactfully. We'd prefer not to be driven to taking extreme measures. But if you compel us . . ." So the victims, not the perpetrators, would be responsible. The old terrorists' and kidnapers' ploy. But some of the Kronians had already halfway bought it.

  "Time isn't on your side," Keene said.

  "Don't you believe it."

  "Really? Why not?" What did Zeigler think was going to happen to change things?

  But Zeigler showed no inclination to elaborate. "In fact, time could be something you might profitably put to use yourself while you have it," he said. "Eventually, a new state will take root here. A state based on realistic understanding of the forces that must inevitably emerge and then clash in the running of a complex society. We have a world rich with resources. Kronia has a few balls of ice. Don't be caught on the wrong side when the real test comes." Zeigler paused pointedly. "Ours could be very generous in its rewards for those who worked with us from an early stage."

  Keene's fists snapped shut, and he almost sprang from the chair, but checked himself as he remembered the guards behind. "I already told you, you're out of your mind," he said tightly.

  "I wasn't asking for an answer now, or expecting one," Zeigler said. "But something for you to think over, nevertheless. As I suggested to you before, things would be considerably eased for all if a single spokesman were appointed for the others. Perhaps we can resume this conversation when the time is more opportune." He nodded to the guards. Keene started to say something but Zeigler cut him off. "That will be all for now."

  One of the guards came forward. Keene stood. The other opened the door, and they ushered him out.

  * * *

  Shayle was still numbed when Keene joined her in the power distribution house, next to where Agni was sited, behind the workshop domes. She and two technicians were running power factor and frequency tests, watched by a couple of Zeigler's guards. Keene told her that it would better serve the interests of everyone if they carried on as normal for the time being. The decision didn't seem to come as any great surprise to her. As a Kronian, she would have been hard put to conceive in any concrete form exactly what else they were supposed to do. Just at the moment, Keene was far from having much of an idea himself. They moved through a switchroom annex behind the control room and went outside via a door at the far end, where they could talk away from unwelcome ears.

  "What else did he say?" Shayle asked. She stood in the pose of women gripped by anxiety, pulling her jacket tighter around her as if she were cold. In fact the wind had shifted to the south and did have a chilly nip to it.


  "The proposition about being a spokesman and making it easier for everyone, again," Keene answered. "Only this time laced with a dash of promise of being well looked after when they run their Brave New World."

  "You didn't agree, did you?"

  Keene shook his head. "No . . ." He let it hang for a moment. "But things could reach the point where something like that might be the best course. The strategy of people like that is always to divide the opposition among themselves. That's how tyrants stay in power. Speaking through one person could keep us united and make it more difficult."

  "You mean you'd cooperate with them?"

  Keene sighed. "See how they get you? They've got you doubting me already."

  "I'm sorry, Lan." Shayle put a hand to her brow and shook her head. "I've just got no instinct for dealing with this. . . . None of us have."

  "I know."

  Shayle stared out past the domes and structures of the base at the hills outlined against a dark, angry sky. "So how bad could it get? How does a minority like this keep control over a whole community?"

  "You've already seen how," Keene said grimly.

  "But they can't shoot everybody. There's got to be a line. Push people beyond it and they'll simply revolt en masse because they've nothing to lose. I do know something about Earth's history, even if I never lived it."

  Keene shrugged. "It's like I said. You divide them against each other. Single out individuals and make examples of them. Take hostages. And if you've got the guns, you can do things like control the food"—he gestured at the wall shielding Agni—"or the energy supply. When you have power over people's ability to make a living and survive, they'll do what you want." As an afterthought, he added, "Controlling the distribution of wealth created by others was how the elites who ran Earth operated for centuries. If 'slavery' means being coerced to work for the benefit of others, maybe it never really was abolished. They just replaced the blatant physical kind with things that were more subtle." He looked at Shayle curiously. "I never thought about that before. Maybe there are more reasons for Kronia's determination to stay away from introducing a monetary system than I realized."

  "But for how long?" Shayle persisted. "How can something like this it last?"

  "Look how long it lasted on Earth," Keene replied. "Even then, it took Athena to end it."

  Shayle shook her head. "But surely this is different. That was a whole world of mutually supporting interests. We are just . . . this. They're obviously not so stupid as to believe that they can hold on indefinitely as things are. They must be expecting some kind of reinforcement."

  Keene nodded. "Yes, I'd already come to the same conclusion."

  "But who?"

  "What else can it be but the Aztec?"

  Shayle stared at him in the kind of disbelieving way that said it was too obvious. "Of course," she said tiredly.

  "It's got the AG lithoforming prototypes to make big, secure constructions here. Profab equipment to create a diversified industrial base. That would give them a start to expand from."

  "Would it be enough? Obviously there won't be any more follow-up missions from Saturn now."

  Keene could only shrug. "Maybe that's a gamble they decided to take. With a whole planet full of resources here for the taking, waiting to be developed . . ."

  "By whom?—if they have to spend all their time keeping the rest of us in line."

  "By us, working for them. That's what it's all about. And in any case, we don't know how many more of them there might be coming with the Aztec. That could change the balance of numbers a lot."

  Keene gazed around restlessly. One of the guards had come through into the switchroom to keep an eye on them, but he was staying back at the far end. Keene dropped his voice. "Saturn will figure out that something's wrong here from the communications blackout, but it might take them awhile. So the Pragmatists might not have made their move on the Aztec yet. It still might not be too late to get a warning to the ship somehow. We need a way of getting access to the Varuna's or the Surya's communications."

  Shayle stared at the bank of cable ducts and piping running from the power building through the shielding wall around the Agni, and then looked back into the room full of equipment behind them. Something was taking shape in her mind. Keene watched her face silently and waited. When she spoke, her agitation of a moment ago had given way to a deeper, more distant thoughtfulness.

  "Suppose we staged some kind of problem with Agni's power system down here that needed diagnostics and repair directions from the Varuna to fix. At least that would put us in touch with the engineers up there."

  "But Agni's self-sufficient. It wouldn't need any help from up there," Keene pointed out.

  "You and I know that. But Zeigler doesn't."

  Keene stared at her. Of course! The shadow of a grin softened his face. "And then we play it by ear from there," he completed.

  "Something like that."

  Keene checked it through in his mind again. There was no obvious flaw that he could see. And time was crucial. He nodded. "The sooner the better, then. We'll need to cue Gus and Blinda in on what we're doing." They were the two Kronians back inside the power house. He thought for a few seconds longer. "Can you dream up something, Shayle? It would probably look better if I weren't around when it happens. Let Zeigler's people come to me when you discover the 'emergency.' "

  "That's fine. Leave it to me," Shayle said.

  They made a cursory show of checking displays and equipment in the switchroom, then went back into the main distribution control center. "I'm done here for now," Keene said to the guards. "I need to go back to the dorms." It stuck in his throat to have to ask it, but the formality was already established. One of the guards nodded. Keene left via the door connecting through to the workshop domes.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Keene found Sariena in one of the partly completed work areas in the Laboratory block, where the planetary scientists had been in the process of moving into from the Surya. The next phase of their program involved adding a hangar at the base to accommodate ground-launched probes for detailed mapping of the Raphta peninsula to supplement the longer-range surveys being directed from orbit. They were carrying on according to the original plan but in a mechanical kind of way, with the enthusiasm gone, as if unsure anymore what the point was of any of it.

  Adreya Laelye had approached Zeigler, claiming that her capacity as SOE's senior representative gave her the authority to speak on behalf of the rest of the base. Probably she felt an obligation to show some such responsibility, since officially Zeigler himself had been next in the mission's line of command after Gallian. Zeigler, however, had been unimpressed, stating that he would deal with a representative of his own choosing at such time as it suited him to do so. Keene had expected something like that and had confided as much to Sariena. But both of them had agreed that Adreya should be allowed her chance to try. The outcome had left Sariena feeling all the more despondent.

  "It isn't just confusion over this setback we have right now," she told Keene. "But suddenly it seems as if"—she waved an arm, as if searching for words in the air—"everything we've been working for could be in danger. It's going to be the way it always was, all over again, isn't it? Nations and then empires built on crushed human spirit. Tacitus said it over two thousand years ago, didn't he: 'To robbery, slaughter, plunder, they give the lying name of empire; they make a desert and call it peace.' "

  Keene looked at her in surprise. "Did he? You know, it never ceases to amaze me how much Kronians know about Earth."

  "What makes people that way? Can it be something about the planet, do you think?"

  "Oh, I'd say more a question of being conditioned there."

  "Not something inherent in human nature—permanent, unchangeable?"

  "Then why not the Kronians too? Aren't they human?"

  Sariena shook her head, not wanting to pursue it. "Just now, I don't know what to think."

  * * *

  Owen
Erskine crouched in the cover of a trench leading into a pit at the rear of the Lab block, where concrete was due to be poured for a foundation. He had come down from the Varuna to help set up the ground-based probe maintenance hangar intended for the base. But since then a new priority was demanding attention, and nobody else seemed to be doing much about it. Landen Keene, whom Heeland had introduced in the probe bay up in the ship, had struck him as the kind of person who might take the lead in standing up to somebody like Zeigler, but his crew were continuing to provide power for the base as if nothing had happened. There was a rumor going around that Adreya Laelye from SOE had gone in to see Zeigler with some kind of demands that morning and been thrown out. Others had done a lot of talking but not much else. It seemed that everyone was paralyzed after the Gallian shooting. Well, things like that had always happened, always would, and life was the art of working around them. Someone would just have to make the first move in shaking them out of it.

  The two guards were posted together as had been the pattern since yesterday, at the base of the crane behind the stores buildings, from where they could watch the rear area of the base. The location also meant that they were screened from most of the other directions where activity was going on. From time to time, one of them would patrol to the far end of the stores complex, check past the corner toward the workshops and the power installations, and retrace his steps. The moment Erskine had chosen was the next time one of them was halfway along the route, out of sight from the rest of the base.

  Dru, a one-time Turkish landscaper, was in position by a stack of pipe sections, hidden from the guards but in view from the trench where Erskine was. Ida, also Terran-Kronian, was up on a work platform in the scaffolding behind the crane, securing lighting cables, again in sight of Erskine and waiting for his signal. The two Kronians who had agreed to join them were concealed among crates stacked behind the storage buildings. Kronians were no different from anyone else in having what it took, Erskine was convinced. All it needed was for someone to show them how. With a couple of weapons in their hands, it would be that much easier to acquire more. Then the rest of the base would get the message and follow suit, and the whole thing would be over by the afternoon. Erskine hadn't come all the way home to be pushed around by a bunch of jerks like this.