The Enemy Papers

by Barry B. Longyear

"Why?"

  "I am looking for an equality of disaster."

  "I've seen Drac soldiers with artificial limbs before. Those soldiers seemed to function adequately."

  "Emmmm. True, it takes little skill to fry a human. But I am a musician, Joanne Nicole. The machine the fleet will pay to have hammered onto this stump will find the strings of a tidna difficult to master."

  The tidna: a kind of harp. "I am sorry."

  "Sorrow is a cheap fee." A pause and more of that sharp smell. "Baadek! Stop here!"

  "Tora Kia, your parent will have my skin for a cape if it should find out—"

  "Stop here, you miserable fungus, or I will reach up there and pull off your head."

  The vehicle slid to a stop and Nicole heard the door on Tora Kia's side open as a blast of icy air entered the compartment. The Drac's hand pulled at her left arm. "Come. Come with me, Joanne Nicole."

  She slid across the seat and stepped out into ankle-deep snow. Tora Kia dragged her along until she had lost both of her sandals and stood barefoot.

  "Baadek! Baadek, turn off the car!"

  The whine of the car died, and on the gentle wind Nicole heard ... music. Strange, haunting notes coming from below. "Down there, in the Valley, Joanne Nicole. That was my kovah."

  They listened for a time to the sounds. It felt as though knives were being thrust again and again through her feet. "Tora Kia, I am cold."

  "The Universe is cold." The breeze brought her that sharp smell again. "My parent. You think it feels gratitude to you for pulling Sin Vidak from the oven?"

  "That is what Tora Soam—"

  Torn Kia's laugh seemed to be aimed at more than its words revealed. "Tora Soam feels nothing! The Ovjetah of the Talman Kovah would have you at the estate as an object of curiosity—experimentation. Sin Vidak—that is the excuse my parent uses to make housing you acceptable in the eyes of... aaaah!"

  A strong hand slapped her face, sending her reeling into the snow. Geometric shapes flashed before her eyes as the snow covered and burned her face. As though it were far away, Nicole heard a door slam, then soft footsteps. A hand pulled at her right shoulder, lifting her face from the snow.

  Nicole pushed the hand away, sat back upon her legs, and wiped the snow from her face. There were still the mournful sounds of music on the air as the one called Baadek spoke softly to her. "I ask you a favor, human. If you do it, I will always be in your debt." Baadek put its hands beneath her arms and lifted her to a standing position. Nicole's face still burned from the snow and the force of Kia's blow.

  "What's the debt of a Drac worth?"

  "Human, Tora Kia carries the Tora line. Its behavior here would shame its parent. I ask you to be silent about what Kia did."

  Nicole waved a hand in what she thought to be the direction of the car. "First, get me out of the snow; second, find my sandals; third, I will think about it." Baadek began leading her toward the car and Nicole stopped dead in the snow. "But I will tell you one thing right now, Drac: if that child of a kiz hits me again, I will take off its remaining arm and stuff it down its throat!"

  "There is nothing to fear from Kia now. Kia is asleep."

  "My feet hurt. The cold."

  Baadek moved to her right side, placed her arm around its neck, and lifted her. As it carried her, Baadek muttered, "The war. Everything has changed since the war."

  Nicole was too weary to answer. She was placed into the car, the door slammed, then a second slam, and the car whined to life and moved down the twisting road. They rode for a long while, then Nicole heard Tora Kia move.

  "Unh. You. Your robe is wet. Your face is red." That sharp smell again filled the compartment.

  "Don't you remember? You hit me."

  "I did?" That smell grew stronger, then the voice became very quiet. "I wish I had killed you."

  And then Nicole found out something she never knew before: Dracs snore. "Baadek?"

  "Yes, human?"

  "My name is Nicole. Joanne Nicole."

  "Yes, Joanne Nicole?"

  "Why is Tora Kia hitting that drug?"

  "Many of the Tsien Denvedah that fought on Amadeen have the same habit. Tora Soam disapproves."

  Nicole pulled her legs up upon the seat and rubbed her feet. She felt warm air being directed upon them, and in moments they were dry. "Thank you, Baadek."

  "When we get to the estate, we will stop at the gate house and I will get you a dry robe to wear."

  She continued rubbing her feet. "Baadek, what is it to you if Tora Soam finds out that its child chews happy paste."

  There was a long silence from the front of the car. "Nothing, I suppose. I have spent my life serving the Tora estate, probably from habit. Habit is very safe. The war soils everything, however. Perhaps I should change my habit, too."

  Nicole's weight was thrown from one side of the car to the other as her stomach evidenced a sickening skid, the whine of the car's motor rising and falling in rapid succession. "It is only a guess, Baadek; but are you driving too fast?"

  The motion of the car slowed as the whine from the motor decreased. "Yes.... Thank you. And my apologies."

  She leaned her head against the back of the seat. Baadek, the long-suffering family retainer coming home to its master hauling a drug-blitzed child and a backseat driver. Nicole yawned from the drying heat blowing on her legs. Perhaps I could take some of the weight from Baadek's already overburdened shoulders. "Baadek?"

  "Yes, Joanne Nicole?"

  "I will say nothing to Tora Soam concerning what happened today."

  "Thank you. I will remember this."

  "How much longer will we be riding?"

  "We are almost a third of the way to the estate."

  The warm air and sleep tugged at her. She moved her shoulders into the upholstered corner between the door and seat, her face leaned against something soft to her left. Vaguely she felt the gentle rocking of the car....

  ...Happy paste.

  There had been reports that a large percentage of USEF personnel coming back from Amadeen had the habit.

  How long had it taken Ted Makai to kick it? He never did, really. He just substituted other things.

  In the Storm Mountain officers club that time, Ted at the bar tossing down doubles. He was an island of dead gloom in a sea of laughter, trying to numb the nervous system that made him a rare exception among the Universe's life forms.

  He ordered another.

  "Ted, aren't you nailing those things down pretty fast?"

  He never looked up; simply waited until his fresh drink came. He took the glass, tossed down its contents, and ordered another. He looked at her.

  "Do your tour on Amadeen, Major Nicole, and then come back to me and preach temperance ...."

  "...When Tora Soam has carried its butcher ax against the enemy on Amadeen, then its views upon my medications will be of interest...."

  Amadeen. So little of the war had taken place there; but so much of the war owed its existence to the planet ....

  ...In the Chirn Kovah, searching for her reasons for fighting, a voice from nowhere reciting history ....

  "... The planet Amadeen was colonized in a succession of immigrations by both humans and Dracs, attracted there by Amadeen's vast mineral resources. Numerous private companies based In both spheres of influence were involved in the colonization effort, the two largest being the human Earth IMPEX and the Dracon JACHE companies.

  "Although Timan Nisak, headquartered on the Planet Timan, is the third largest capital investor in Amadeen, there have been no Timanese immigrants. Timan Nisak operates the orbiting ore-processing station used before the opening of hostilities by all the mining companies operating on Amadeen.

  "...After the defeat of the Drac and human Centralist Party, extremist factions took control of the political mechanisms of both races. The Amadeen Front was the political party dominating the humans, while the Ka Mavedah rose to become the most influential political organization in the Drac-controlled areas of the planet. The Ce
ntralists of both races were effectively eliminated as political forces, and terrorist raids began...."

  Terrorism on Amadeen. Its victims and witnesses never seemed to talk about it much. The horrors were beyond comprehension. Humans were found still alive, their skeletons shattered with sound waves. The bones had been gone over one at a time. Dracs were found, their bellies ripped open, still living fetuses dangling from their umbilicals—

  "Joanne Nicole?"

  She awakened, warm air entering the car from her side. The door was open. "Baadek?"

  "Yes. Here is your dry robe, and I have dried your sandals."

  She leaned forward and took the robe and sandals. "Where can I change?"

  "Here in the car will do."

  "Where can I be alone to change?"

  "Alone? ... For what reason?"

  "Because I want to be alone when I change."

  A puzzled silence. "I suppose you may use the gate house." Nicole felt the Drac's hand touch her arm. "Come with me."

  "What are you going to do with Kia?"

  Baadek helped her from the car, her feet touching soft grass, warm sunlight washing her face. Baadek sighed.

  "What to do with Kia? That is always a good question, Joanne Nicole. Always a good question. Come this way."

  Nicole had been whisked up a huge outdoor staircase, then through a dizzying complex of halls and passageways. Each door seemed to have a guard on it with which Baadek would exchange hushed whispers. Then they were in a room that was bright with sunlight; she could feel it upon her skin. There were many low voices in the room, then one of the voices became recognizable; it was Tora Soam's.

  "Here you are, at last, Joanne Nicole."

  She nodded, her ears straining for every sound as the Ovjetah spoke to Baadek: "And where is Kia?"

  "In its apartments, Ovjetah. Kia was not feeling well."

  Tora Soam's silence spoke volumes. "Joanne Nicole, I hope your trip from the Chirn Kovah was satisfactory?"

  "It was a learning experience."

  "Emmmm." She heard Tora Soam tum away. "My colleagues, this is the human, Joanne Nicole." There was an uncomfortable period of coughing, paper rattling, and chair squeaking. "Baadek, come with me." Tora Soam took Nicole's arm and led her from the room. "Joanne Nicole, I apologize for my colleagues. However, please understand that you are the very first human as flesh that they have ever seen."

  "I understand."

  "Tonight I will have a surprise for you; until then, Baadek will show you your apartments. There are only a few places on the estate that you are not allowed to enter, and the guards at those places will prevent your entrance. Otherwise you have the freedom of the estate. Baadek will act as your eyes for the time being, and it will call for you at the night repast. I would like to have you join us for the repast."

  Nicole nodded. "I will be there."

  "Excellent. And now I must return to work." She heard Tora Soam's voice change direction. "Baadek?"

  "Yes, Ovjetah?"

  "When Kia is quite recovered, send my child to me. I shall be in the library all evening."

  "Yes, Ovjetah."

  Tora Soam's footsteps faded away and Baadek took Nicole's arm and led her through a maze of corridors. As they were walking, Nicole let the fingers of her left hand trail along the wall's cut stone surface, trying to place and memorize all of the twists and turns. "Baadek?"

  "Yes, Joanne Nicole?"

  "Why is this building made of cut stone?"

  "It must have been the desire of Tora Kia—the founder, Kia; not the one you know."

  "This building is as old as the founding of Draco?"

  "Yes; almost. It is a very beautiful building. The stone is of many kinds and colors."

  Nicole thought for a moment as they walked down still another corridor. "Baadek, why would a race that can use metals, plastics, and freeform masonry put up a mansion of quarried stone?"

  Baadek walked in silence for a moment then pulled her to a stop. "I have searched your words for a meaning beyond the apparent, Joanne Nicole, but I can find no such meaning. Do you truly find it difficult to understand?"

  "Yes. The time, the expense that must have been involved hardly seems rational with the construction alternatives that must have been available."

  "I repeat, Joanne Nicole: it is a very beautiful building." Baadek leaned away from her and she heard a door open. "This is the entrance to your apartments."

  ELEVEN

  Maltak Di drew upon the slate a circle and a square, and then it connected the two figures with two lines. Of the first student. Maltak Di asked: "Nyath, how many different paths are there from the circle to the square?"

  "There are two paths, Jetah."

  "Nyath, you may not stay; you cannot learn." Maltak Di faced the second student. "Oura, how many different paths are there from the circle to the square?"

  "Jetah, if the two paths are repeated turn-in-turn. there can be many."

  "Oura, you may stay; perhaps you can learn." Maltak Di faced the third student. "Irrisa, how many different paths are there from the circle to the square?"

  "A number without finite limit, Jetah."

  "Irissa, you must stay. Perhaps one day you can teach."

  —The Story of Maltak Di, Koda Nushada, The Talman

  After taking her on a tour of the greeting, entertainment, toilet, bathing, sleeping, and meditation rooms, Baadek left Nicole to her own devices until the night repast. As it was taking its leave, Baadek again thanked her for not reporting Kia's behavior to Tora Soam.

  With some difficulty, she bathed and rested. When she reached for her robe, she found another in its place. The fabric was as light and smooth as cobwebs; and when she placed it on it felt as though a warm, gentle film caressed her body. Instead of the open sandals, there were soft, lined slipper-boots. Tora Soam's castle might have been beautiful, but it was chilly. Joanne Nicole gathered that the Toras dressed accordingly.

  While she waited for Baadek's call to dinner, she walked the walls of her apartments, beginning the task of memorizing the floorplan and the placement of each piece of furniture.

  The apartment was a circle divided up into six equal segments—each segment being a room that opened onto a central circular accessway. Each segment was shaped like an orange slice truncated on both ends. The only flat surface was the floor. The center of each room contained the article or articles that served the room's name. The central accessway had six doors that could be opened in any combination.

  There were some enigmatic Drac phrases that began to make some sense. "Greeted with all doors open" and "Greeted with all doors closed" described the degree of trust and intimacy a host extends to a visitor. The greeting room was bare, providing nothing more than a place to stand and talk. The entertainment room had deep, soft chairs and couches. The central door of the greeting room, and the door to the entertainment room being open was an invitation for a longer stay. A still longer stay was invited by the toilet room being open. Bathing, sleeping, and meditation rooms being open described more intimate invitations about which she could only speculate.

  After her initial inspection, she entered the meditation room, closed the door, and settled on the cushions in the center of the room to await the call to the night repast.

  She had been sitting for a few minutes, quietly trying to relax, when the room seemed to fill with a dim green light marbled with blacks and lighter greens. Her hands immediately went to her eyes, but her hands could not block out the light. The light was inside her head.

  Again she relaxed and allowed the lights to move at random. There was a slightly drugged feeling, then a feeling of all-encompassing calm. One-by-one she could feel tense muscles relax, her body going limp ....

  ...There were the happy moments with Mallik, seen through a lens that would admit no pain. She opened to it and her being was flooded with love.

  And their child swelling in her abdomen.

  Mallik's head against the swelling, listening.

>   "You can't hear anything yet, Mallik; it's too soon."

  His head burrowed his ear more deeply into her abdomen while his hand stole between her legs.

  "If this is Mallik Nicole's child, it will be an early riser."

  She laughed as she reached down to touch his face ....

  ...there was a moment at Storm Mountain; a moment of love, pride, fierce unshackled joy.

  Death covered the slopes, but the Tsien Denvedah was falling back. Her command hadn't a prayer of getting relief; they knew that another attack was coming that would crush them; they knew that most of them would be dead before the next two hours elapsed—

  —but the Tsien Denvedah was falling back.

  The hoots and catcalls started in the emplacements to her left. In seconds all of Storm Mountain was shouting insults at the retreating Dracs; her own voice joining the tumult.

  The Tsien Denvedah was falling back!

  It was another—a stronger—form of love than that between a man and woman. They were a blood and mud spattered brotherhood that had met the enemy and had turned them back. They had been dipped in fire and had survived to see the Drac Infantry pulling back.

  Morio Taiseido collapsed beside her, his voice hoarse.

  "Major, I could die content at this moment. We whipped them! Holy son of a bitch, we whipped them!"

  ...The lights came back and part of Joanne Nicole's brain asked another part if this joy was the appeal to battle; to war. If it was the truth, it would be an impossible motivation to treat rationally.

  The rules were out; the ultimate consequences were out; nothing was in mind except the fact that the Dracs were falling back. In that minuscule particle of time, they were victorious....

  ...And then, as though it were being played before her upon a stage, she remembered The Story of Lita in the Koda Ovsinda.

  Lita had invented a game for the students to play. One of the students was selected by chance to begin the game, and its first move was to invent the first three rules of the game. And the game—the rules—could be anything.

  The next player could proceed according to those first three rules, or could invent another rule. The rules and rule changes were never communicated except by the nature of the play. The rules and rule changes must be deduced from the actions of those who invented the rules. Even that which constituted "winning" changed from one minute to the next.