Final Inquiries

by Roger MacBride Allen

  The three of them stood there for a minute or two, half-expecting the Vixa to be able to do the traceback and vaporize them at once. But nothing happened.

  "All right then," said Jamie, yawning and stretching. "I just hope that if the Vixa do zap us into dust, they at least have the decency to let me get some sleep first. Good night, or good morning, or whatever time of day it is."

  None of them got any sleep at first. They were all too wound up--and also half-expecting that the Vixa would strike back at once. Every small noise in the bunker, every shift in the ventilator noise brought all of them back to instant alertness. But after a while, even being scared can get boring. With the comm links cut, and the exterior cameras destroyed, they had no way of knowing what reaction there had been to their messages. They didn't even have any way of knowing for sure if the messages had gotten through.

  They monitored the radio frequencies used by the human and Kendari, but the signals were weak and intermittent at best. Besides, it was unlikely to be any news from there because they had decided not to send copies of their reports to the enclaves. The humans and Kendari on-planet were all pretty radical in their views to start with, and even the bits and pieces of the story they had already were likely to get them angry. There seemed no point in providing further incitement. What if the news started a riot that got humans or Kendari killed?

  Keeping their own people off the send list was a sensible decision, but it did leave them with no good way to find out what was going on. About all they could do was wait until there was news over the human or Kendari radio that suggested it was safe to come out, or until someone came and got them, or until their food ran out and they were forced to come out of their hole and make a run for it.

  And so they slept, and ate, and read whatever books and texts happen to be available in the bunker. Jamie tried to teach Brox chess, and Brox tried to show him a roughly similar Kendari game, but neither attempt really went anywhere.

  Nothing at all happened.

  Until something did.

  The first sound was far off, distant, and low, almost more a vibration than a noise. But it was enough to wake Hannah up at once. She rolled out of her bunk, flipped on the lights, and went to find the others. The bunker had been designed to hold the entire staff of the embassy. It would have been a tight fit for that many, but it meant that Hannah, Jamie, and Brox could each have the luxury of a private room.

  But Hannah didn't want that luxury at the moment, and it would seem that neither Brox nor Jamie did either. She found them out in the hallway, looking up at the ceiling--and watching the dust that was suddenly being kicked up everywhere.

  Something was happening over their heads. That much was obvious.

  "What have we got here, Jamie?" she asked in a whisper, as if whoever was overhead could hear her.

  He shook his head. "I dunno," he said, whispering back. "It's not an attack. At least not yet. No explosions or anything. It could be they're setting up for an assault. Or not."

  "That is not particularly comforting," said Brox.

  There didn't seem to be more to say, or much more to be done about the situation. The sounds overhead grew louder, and seemed to get closer. The vibration grew more intense. There were crashes and thuds that sent low shudders through the bunker, and then relative quiet for a while, before another series of bangs and thuds.

  "They're right overhead," Jamie said at last. "I think it's demolition. But I don't know for what reason. They might be looking for us, or just clearing the site to put up a new restaurant--or this might be a deliberate attempt to dig us out or entomb us."

  "All right," said Hannah. "Time to think about the escape tunnel." There was a second way out of the bunker, an emergency tunnel that climbed all the way out of the compound and ended in a vertical shaft under the street outside. The top of the vertical shaft came to an end about a meter short of the surface, with a metal cap on top. There were shaped charges rigged to it that would blast the top of the tunnel clear, opening the way for those inside to make a run for it, if need be. There were also shovels and picks stored in the shaft, in case there was time to make a more leisurely, if less spectacular, exit.

  "Hannah, I checked that tunnel out," said Jamie. "After the first three meters it's a hands-and-knees crawl all the way through a round pipe eighty centimeters across and maybe a hundred meters long--and the vertical shaft is the same diameter, with ladder rungs set into the side of it."

  "So?"

  "So Brox simply can't fit inside a tunnel that size, let alone crawl through it. It was designed to keep Kendari out, not let them in."

  "Then the two of you should go," said Brox.

  "Very noble of you, Brox, but even if you weren't here, I'd say no," Jamie replied. "It'd be suicide. If we set off the charges to clear the tunnel, whoever is up there trying to dig us out is going to hear it, and probably see the dust and smoke from the blast even over the wall. If we try digging, they'd probably hear that too--and it would take us so long to break a personsized hole through the street surface that they'd be bound to spot that."

  "So what do we do?" Hannah asked.

  "We sit here and wait," said Jamie. "And hope the bunker entrance is as well camouflaged as we think. One thing we have going for us is now we know that they don't know we're here. If they did, they would have been here a lot sooner. With some luck, that should mean they won't be as thorough as they would be if they knew for sure this was the place."

  "That all sounds very relaxing," said Hannah. There was another boom, deeper and harder. A new cloud of dust was kicked up, and the lights cut out for a moment. "Handlights," said Hannah. "Let's make sure we all have handlights. I don't want to be down here in the dark if the lights die for good. And let's find some clothes we can tie up into dust masks."

  The booming and crashing went on. The lights cut out momentarily two more times in the next ten minutes, and then went out and stayed out. Jamie checked the breaker panel. It looked as if all they would have to do was reset the system--but they decided to wait on that. Whoever it was topside might have instruments that could detect electric systems turning on and off. They had their handlights, and the air would be okay for a while without the ventilation system or the scrubbers.

  The crashing and the banging got louder still--and then, suddenly, it wasn't coming from overhead--but from alongside.

  "Our bunker," said Brox. "We did not think to conceal the entrance. They must have found it and decided to destroy it."

  There was another sharp bang, and a low, rumbling, shuddering boom strong enough to knock them all over. They climbed back to their feet, coughing and wheezing in the darkness. "Okay," said Jamie. "Back to the utility room. It's on the far side from the Kendari bunker, and that's where the tunnel leads off from."

  "You can't be thinking of trying for a breakout now!" Hannah shouted. "And what about Brox?"

  "I'm not thinking of a breakout," said Jamie. "But if this place collapses, and we live through it, we're going to want to be near the tunnel exit. And maybe we can push and pull Brox through the tunnel, or send one of us out to go for help--or to offer our surrender."

  "Surrender?" Brox asked.

  "Buried alive and starving to death, or prisoners of the Vixa," said Jamie. "Which would you choose?"

  "To be honest," Brox said, "I am not quite sure."

  "Let's get to the utility room, and we can debate it later," Hannah half shouted to be heard over a new series of rumbling crashes.

  Jamie led the way as they staggered down the hallway and into the utility room. They slammed the reinforced door shut. Hannah and Jamie sat down on the floor with their backs to the far wall while Brox curled himself up into the smallest space possible in the corner.

  The noise and vibration reached a climax, then began to ease off. Within a few minutes, they had dropped to almost nothing. There were a few low thuds and bumps that seemed to come from overhead. Even those stopped after a while. Whatever had been happening was over.r />
  "I think your bunker might have saved us, Brox," said Hannah, speaking into the silence. "I think some gang of Vixa had orders to tear down the joint ops center to make sure we weren't in it. They found a bunker and wrecked it, as well--and managed to bury the entrance to this one and churn up the ground so much that they didn't notice there were two bunkers. Maybe we might be okay for a while."

  "If you don't mind being buried alive," said Jamie.

  "They've tried to find us here," said Hannah. "They've failed, and made such a mess that maybe they won't even think of trying again. This doesn't change our plan. It just improves the odds that it will work. We hold out here as long as we can. A few days. Maybe a week, if we can make it. Then we try and get the main bunker door open. It's got some heavy-duty hydraulic jacks on it. It might still be possible to get out that way. If it isn't, we use the escape hatch and send for help to get Brox out of here."

  "You make it sound almost easy," said Brox in a sarcastic voice.

  "It might be," said Hannah. "It might be. The hard part is going to be the waiting." She shined her handlight on the ceiling, looking for cracks and breaks and not finding any. "We sit in the dark for twelve hours," she said. "That will give the Vixa plenty of time to get bored and leave. Then we can risk turning the lights and air back on."

  Jamie's eyes opened. He was in his bunk, in his room, in the bunker. The same place he had woken up for--how many days? He resisted the urge to check the time. He had decided to stop keeping track of time a while back. He hadn't noted the time in days, or even longer. The whole point of it was that he didn't know anymore.

  The whole point of it is that you're starting to crack up, Jamie told himself.

  He got out of bed and made his way down the hallway. The bunker had actually come through the demolition assault in fairly good shape. There was a layer of dust on everything--including Jamie--but the structure still seemed solid.

  But how long is that going to last? Jamie asked himself. How long is anything going to last? It seemed as if all his questions, all his thoughts and fears, centered in on time. That was why he avoided checking any of the dozens of clocks, watches, and data displays that could have told him, to the split second, exactly what day and time it was. What was the point of that when time itself had lost its meaning? Time measured the rate of change in things, and nothing ever changed in the bunker.

  He found Hannah in the main workroom. "Good morning or evening or night or whatever," he said.

  "'Hello' would cover all the cases," she said. "I've been checking our supply status. We're fine on food and water, but all the air-scrubber systems have been working overtime since the demolition attack. It's like the ventilation system is pulling in as much dust as air."

  "Probably the air vent to the surface got buried or filled in and that's exactly what's happening."

  "Probably. But the point is the filters are going to fail and we'll be choking on solid dust clouds in about four days. We've got to start preparing now for our breakout. I don't want to have to start digging out the escape tunnel exit when we're already near passing out."

  Jamie was about to answer when Brox rushed into the room. "I just heard something!" he said excitedly. "Scraping sounds, coming from the other side of the main bunker entrance!"

  "Grab weapons and handlights," Hannah said. "Let's go."

  The three of them hurried down the main hallway and into the armored, right-angled vestibule that led to the bunker entrance. They could all hear it clearly. A slow, careful, methodical scraping and rasping, the sound of shovels biting into dirt.

  "Whoever it is, this time they knew right where to dig," Hannah whispered.

  "Yeah," said Jamie in a low voice. "Maybe that's a good sign. Maybe."

  "Kill the lights or keep them on?" Hannah asked, keeping her voice down.

  Jamie shrugged. "I don't know. Leave them on, I suppose. If it comes to a fight, we'll go down swinging, but I don't think the lighting will change how it comes out. Just make sure you've got some sort of cover, and a clear line of fire--and hope we don't need either."

  They set themselves around the corners of the vestibule, guns drawn but not raised, and listened to the digging sounds get louder and louder, until it was metal-on-metal, the shovels striking the camouflaged upper access door itself.

  The upper door lay flat on the ground and led down a narrow set of stairs to the vertically oriented inner door they were staring at.

  There was more clanking and banging, and the sound of gears grinding and protesting metal--then louder, sharper bangs and rattling crashes that could only be rocks and debris falling into the chamber between the two doors.

  There was a brief silence, then the inner door started to move, sliding back into its wall niche.

  Frank Milkowski stepped inside and looked around. "My God," he said to the three scarecrows aiming guns at him. "You're all still alive."

  They staggered up into the light, and looked around at the rubble field that had once been two embassy compounds. Simply put, everything had been utterly flattened. "Boy," said Jamie. "Will you look at this place? I'll bet this is the last time they let us house-sit."

  They walked forward a bit. Stabmacher and Flexdal and a mixed group of embassy staffers were there, standing ready to give them a helping hand. But they didn't need it. Just being outside was cure enough for what ailed them. It was good to see the sky, the sun, familiar faces.

  But what Hannah, at least, was gladdest to see was Zhen Chi, down on her knees, scrabbling in the dirt, industriously and determinedly replanting her garden, putting her plants back in the place where they were supposed to be growing.

  TWENTY-SIX

  FINAL INQUIRIES

  "So," said Ambassador Stabmacher, standing in the rubble of his once-and-future embassy, "how does it feel to have brought down the government of one of the most powerful planets known to the Elder Races?"

  "Strange," Hannah said, peering around. It was strange just to be outdoors again, after spending endless days in the bunker of the joint ops center. "Disconcerting. I know they deserved it, I know it was for the best--but, somehow, I even feel a little guilty, like I broke someone's window playing ball."

  "They're the ones that broke the windows," said Jamie, looking around the ruins of the Embassy of Humanity. "And pretty much everything else."

  "We'll rebuild," said Stabmacher. "The interim government has offered us a more prestigious plot of land in a better part of town, but we'll rebuild here. This is our place. If nothing else staked our claim to it, your work certainly did."

  "Thank you, sir. But in the grand scheme of things, I can't really believe that sending out a few press releases could have really done the whole job. Kragshmal couldn't have had that firm a hold on the Directorship, if what we did could bring him down."

  "I beg to differ," said Flexdal. "I suspect that it was precisely because he had too firm a hold on the office that everything collapsed. 'The consensus of the hierarchy' we all keep talking about. He pushed it too hard, too fast, and in the wrong direction. And the rest of the Grand Vixa stopped following."

  They came upon the bench that had stood outside the main embassy building. The building itself wasn't there anymore, but the bench had merely been tipped over. "Why don't we just sit here for a moment?" Hannah suggested. "It feels good to be out in the sun and the air."

  Hannah and Jamie righted the bench, and dusted it off, and the three humans sat down on it, while the Kendari cleared the rubble from a large enough space to sit back on their haunches. They watched as small groups of humans from the embassy staff wandered over the compound, touring the wreckage.

  The ambassador spoke. "The grand irony of this whole affair, at least so far as I'm concerned, was that it brings us back to almost exactly the same point as when we started. In an earlier phase of the meetings, held in the Founder's Pillar Column City, Xenologist Flexdal and I had just about reached an agreement wherein we would propose sharing the Pentam System--one planet
for humans, the other for the Kendari. It would be a difficult and awkward arrangement at first--perhaps for a long time. We both knew that perfectly well. But it certainly beat the winner-take-all deal that the Vixa were insisting upon. Our analysts said turning it into a question of one side winning and the other losing was practically a recipe for war."

  "Ours said the same thing," said Flexdal, "and, apparently, so did the Vixan analysts. Which would explain why they insisted on arranging matters that way."

  A rare thing, to hear a Kendari make a joke, thought Hannah.

  Ambassador Stabmacher smiled and raised one eyebrow, as if he were thinking the same thing. "It was only when the new Preeminent Director came in, and the Grand Warren, the city designated as the capital, shifted back to Rivertide, that we had problems. We got assigned adjoining embassy space--supposedly for the convenience of proximity but probably just to put us at each others' throats. I suppose nearly all of the things they did to facilitate matters were really meant to make things worse."

  "But you didn't go for each others' throats," said Hannah. "You built the joint ops center instead. Then the Vixa invited in all those interest groups to 'observe,' and made sure to skew the representation to the most radical human and Kendari groups on both ends of the spectrum. But you managed to keep that from derailing the negotiations. So the Vixa decided to try blatant favoritism. Forcing the simulants on us, and not on the Kendari--with the eventual goal of performing the humiliation ritual they staged for our benefit."

  "That day didn't go according to plan for them, did it?" Stabmacher asked. "I think we--I--was supposed to accept the insult, sit outside the inner dome where my odor couldn't offend, and let myself be represented by a puppet." He gestured toward Flexdal. "They'd force concession after concession out of me, then grant your people whatever they took from mine--but always at a price. An indemnity. A right to bases. Access to this, or that. And then we'd both go home to our governments with deals they could not support, and the two sides further apart than ever. Everything meant to goad us into distrusting each other, into seeing the negotiations as a failure. Sooner or later, it would all add up--to war. And favoring one of us over the other was part of that."