The Enemy Papers

by Barry B. Longyear

  Tora Soam answered, its words dripping acid. "Kia. your mouth follows unproductive paths."

  "My many, many apologies, my parent. And, now, to Joanne Nicole's request?"

  "Why did no one tell me Vidak was coming home?"

  "Vidak wanted to surprise us." Again Kia laughed.

  "Your amusement is out of place, Kia."

  Nicole leaned forward on the couch, her elbows resting upon her knees. "I want some answers. Your family squabbles can wait. Tora Soam? Was there an attack last night; or was that a Special effects demonstration put on for my benefit?"

  "That attack was ... real. Too real."

  "Talk to her, my parent. Talk to her."

  "Yes... it is a time for answers. You are correct. Zigh Caida, it is an accident. Whether the paths its events describe are valid has yet to be proven, however."

  Nicole heard one of the Dracs stand. Then Zigh Caida spoke. "Kia, I think Soam would rather perform this task alone with the human."

  "But, First Deputy, I really do want to watch."

  Tora Sam spoke: "I agree with the First Deputy, Kia. Joanne Nicole's need tor answers outweighs your desire to see your parent squirm. In answer to your question, Kia; this puzzle never was amusing, as I am certain someone important to you will eventually point out."

  There was a brief silence, and then she heard Kia stand. Both Kia and the First Deputy walked from the chamber. Nicole leaned back in the couch. "Well?"

  "It is long in the telling, Joanne Nicole."

  "Time is all I have."

  "It is difficult to know where to begin. Do you have any specific questions?"

  "I can think of one: how many of you motherless kizlodes participated in this charade?"

  "Emmmm. I do not have an exact number. Hundreds. You are not the only human involved. Chance just happened to favor you."

  "Chance?"

  "Your blindness."

  "My—is my blindness part of this charade? Am I blind?"

  " ... Yes. You have no reason to believe me; but it is the truth. "

  "Have I been ... did you people blind me?"

  "No. No." There were sounds of movement; then footsteps crossing the floor to her right. "Joanne Nicole, explain to me the basic purpose and structure of talma."

  "Kiss my sitting-end, Drac! I am not one of your students. I—"

  "Joanne Nicole, you will do as I say! Otherwise, I cannot meet your request. The work of years is at stake. Now tell me the basic purpose and structure of talma."

  Nicole spent a few seconds nibbling on the skin of her lower lip. "Very well. The purpose is the achievement of goals. The general structure is to know the present, to know the alterations of the present needed to make the achievement of the goal a future reality, and to discover, assess, and choose the paths that lead from the present to the desired future."

  "Adequate."

  "I had nothing else with which to occupy my time in the Chirn Kovah. It is no great accomplishment."

  Tora Soam snorted out a laugh. "There have been students who have learned less with eyes and more time."

  "So what is the point?"

  "That is the point."

  The footsteps moved from her right to her left. "Joanne Nicole, let me tell you something about the war that you do not know. Although it is comprised of a vast multiplicity of presents and goals, the war is still an event that should fit within the basic structure of talma. We are in a present; there is a more desirable future; all that is left is to discover and execute the paths from the first to the second."

  "And?"

  More footsteps, then a pause. "We appear to be out of paths. Do you recall and understand the object lesson of the night repast? The discussion between Tora Kia and Amos Benbo?"

  "The object lesson was simple enough, Tora Soam. All parties involved cannot have everything that they want. The goals of the Mavedah and those of the Front are mutually exclusive."

  "Emmmm. Tell me the difference between an apparent and a real goal."

  "The apparent goal is the one perceived and stated; the real goal is the one that will satisfy the difference between the present and the desired future."

  Nicole felt Tora Soam lower itself beside her upon the couch. "What are the apparent and the real goals of the Mavedah and the Front?"

  The apparent goats were clear: each side demanded nothing less than the extermination of the other side. The real goals? The settling of old scores? Happiness? Put the entire planet's population under therapy until each side can live with the existence of the other? "I am not certain."

  "Emmmm. I will tell you this: as things now stand, both the Dracon Chamber and the United States of Earth would be inclined to hand back conquered territories and end the fighting—except for Amadeen."

  "Have there already been negotiations?"

  Tora Soam hissed. "Of a sort. A creature more of information and communication. rather than accomplishment." The silence in the chamber became desperate.

  The Drac seemed to be waiting for Nicole to respond. She rubbed her temples and thought for a moment. "Zigh Caida and the other Dracs at the repast; they are the Drac representatives to the negotiations?"

  "The ... former negotiations."

  ...And then the past spoke to her:

  Uhe told its warmasters:

  "Never again shall one tribe starve because of a boundary, tabu, or law ...."

  The student Shizumaat spoke to the servant of Aakva:

  "...I see that a rule stood between the Mavedah and survival; I see that the rule was nothing sacred, but made by Sindie; and I see that Uhe saw this and cast the rule aside to save its people: The truth I see, then, is that rules are meant to serve the Sindie; the Sindie is not meant to serve rules ...."

  In some manner, every crisis described in The Talman was rooted in talmai veruhune: the service of rules; ruleboundedness. Every resolution was rooted in stepping outside of the rules. And talma was the formal discipline, paths, rules for stepping outside of rules.

  Maltak Di, in the Koda Nushada, told its students: "Talma is not the way; Talma is a way for seeking ways."

  Ruleboundedness. And every major halt in human advancement, every major crisis in human history, was rooted in talmai veruhune. Call it religion, politics, philosophy, science—it was the blind allegiance to rules.

  "Tora Soam, both the United States of Earth and the Dracon Chamber are rulebound into this war."

  "Yes."

  "And you find through me a way to step outside of the rules?"

  "A possible way."

  Too many things came together at once as sharp pains lanced through her head. She could not—would not—admit to what she knew; what Tora Soam wanted her to know; and what the Ovjetah would have her do about it.

  ...There was a disturbed silence from the Drac side of the table until Ovjetah Suinat Piva of the Fangen Kovah burst out in laughter.

  "I see your game. Tora Soam ...."

  Nicole stood up. "I must go to my apartments, Tora Soam. I do not feel well. I think I too, see your game."

  She heard Tora Soam stand. "And what will you do?" Nicole began feeling her way toward the corridor. "What will you do, Joanne Nicole?"

  Nicole sat in her apartment's entertainment room for a few minutes, trying to get control of herself. Then she said to hell with it and began tearing up the place. Nicole ripped open the cushions with her fingers and swung things until she heard other things smash.

  "Cute! Cute. Tora Soam, you bastard—" Lights flashed in her head and she found herself sitting on the floor, a lump growing on the right side of her forehead. Cut stone walls do not smash easily.

  "This is stupid."

  She pulled herself up, felt her way into the bathing room, and tried to keep the swelling down by putting cold water on her forehead.

  The game.

  Lita's formula for winning: "I win."

  The bloody damned game.

  She realized that she had been fenced with rules and fattened up with choice
tidbits of information. Tora Soam and the other, Jetai Talman had found themselves rulebound. Somehow a Lita had fenced Amadeen. the USEF, and the Dracon Chamber with a structure of rules ... a structure that allowed no end to the war ... no end short of destroying both human and Drac civilizations. The weapons were too powerful; the tacticians too skilled.

  An insight was needed: a talma that would reveal the nature of the structure, which would, in turn, reveal the talma that would allow the structure to be encircled by another structure.

  And she was a part of the talma to find that insight. Paths for finding paths to find paths through which more paths ...

  Wheels within bloody wheels.

  She stood upright. —That's why I could never get that damned feeler stick in the Chirn Kovah to work for me! That would have allowed me to see too much! Another damned talma to find ....

  Pur Sonaan and its damned player ... selected recitals by Vencha Eban ...

  ...Vencha Eban gasping at being discovered not cleaning the room ... "After the birth of my only child, Hiurod, my reproductive organs (poignant pause indicating deep sorrow) had to be removed. Hiurod died—"

  "God damnit!"

  Supporting cast: Vunseleh, Mitzak ... Tegara—oh, she was good.

  "Your name—ha! Your skin! It is yellow!

  "No shit. toadface ...."

  ...Tora Kia slapping me in anger ... good old Baadek swearing its undying loyalty to me .....

  They were all good.

  "Jesus H. Christ!"

  And if everything fit together, Tora Soam would be standing in her open doorway, watching its convoluted talma going down the drain. Nicole turned toward the bathing room door, felt her way through the central accessway, and entered the greeting room.

  "Tora Soam?"

  "Yes?"

  "You bastards certainly went to a lot of trouble. Why?"

  "To end a war is not sufficient reason?"

  "Why me?"

  "You were one of many, Dracs and humans with unique sights, selected by the Talman Kovah's computers. Your command's unpredictable resistance at Storm Mountain placed you in the coarse selection. Your rescue of the children—"

  "Was ... was that attack staged, too?"

  "No. But I suppose it is to be expected that you would put nothing beyond my behavior."

  "That is no lie, Tora Soam."

  Nicole held her hands to her head. Benbo and that smell of flowers ... cleaning. Vencha Eban!

  "Damn! Is Benbo? A Drac?"

  Tora Soam gave an involuntary laugh. "My apologies. Your Amos Benbo is still on Ditaar."

  "Who ..."

  "Its name is Fanda, one of our most accomplished actors."

  "A Drac?"

  "Yes. It was necessary for you to hear the Amadeen Front's hate from someone you could trust. Fanda studied Benbo for many days." Tora Soam was silent for a moment. "It will harm things no further, Joanne Nicole, for me to inform you of something else. It may relieve some of your pain. Leonid Mitzak, under my instructions, lied to you about the extent of the attack on the V'Butaan Field. None of your men were killed." Nicole leaned against the wall. A thousand thoughts demanded her attention at the same time.

  ...On my way to Draco, drugged and dreaming, my memories of Mallik and my unborn child ... Morio, Benbo, and scenes of the battle of Storm Mountain....

  ...At the university, I never told anyone about Mallik or the child I gave up—

  ...The humming ... that humming!

  "Those dreams I had. They ... they were about things that never took place!"

  "This is partly true -"

  "Damnit! What haven't you messed with?"

  "You are blind, Joanne Nicole; and there is still a war, and a problem to be solved."

  She heard Tora Soam's footsteps approach her, then a hand took her arm.

  "Come with me. You have rendered your apartment unfit for habitation: I will have it cleaned and the furnishings replaced." They entered the corridor and turned to the right.

  "Joanne Nicole, to follow this talma it was necessary to enable you to see both as a human and as a Drac. Perhaps Sin Vidak's unfortunate timing has destroyed this. Perhaps not. As long as it works, an accidental trigger to your thoughts serves as well as one that is planned. But all of the sides to this war are rulebound."

  "That much I saw."

  "Excellent. Can you see whether we are bound by our own rules, or by the rules of an outside agent?"

  Nicole shook her head. "No. But the answer is on Amadeen. Of course, you knew that."

  "Yes. We knew the answer is there. We also knew that we did not know what questions to ask to get that answer. Our negotiators are attempting to open again the talks with the humans. Will you go with us to Amadeen?"

  "Answer me this, first: Vencha Eban at the Chirn Kovah ..."

  "Fanda also played that part."

  Images, vocal gestures, came together in her mind. The disrespectful words; the hesitations before saying the word "parent."

  "Tora Soam is not ... itself these days."

  "Fanda is an excellent actor, Tora Soam."

  "I will pass along your compliment."

  Nicole stopped and faced the Drac. "When does all of this testing end?"

  "I do not understand."

  "You are another actor. And this is yet another play. When does this testing end?"

  The Drac was silent for a moment, then answered in a different, higher voice. "I think it already has."

  FIFTEEN

  "'Choice' is not an empty word that I use. Arlan; it is the nature of our race. To be alive is to have the ability to have goals; to be of this special life, is to have the ability to choose; and to choose anything is to choose goals....

  "Without a goal you are simply taking up space—not only in this room, and this kovah, but in this Universe.

  "Either find a goal, or turn the space over to one who does have a goal."

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

  Joanne Nicole sat in the back of a car, Baadek driving her to what it said was the Talman Kovah—

  What I assume to be the back of a car; what I assume to be driving; by a creature I assume to be Baadek—

  "Driver, who are you?"

  "You do not recognize me, Joanne Nicole? I am Baadek."

  "Who are you?"

  The Drac chuckled. "My name is Hida Mu."

  "Another actor?"

  "I belong to the same company as Fanda."

  Nicole rubbed her eyes, the motion of the car moving her—

  What I assume to be a car; what I assume to be driving—

  There were Shizumaat's words, and she remembered them: "Instead believe this: question everything, accept the wholeness of no truth nor the absolute rightness of any path."

  Her hand reached out and felt for the doorlatch. When she found the recessed handle, she pushed on it, the door opened, and she began to step out of the compartment.

  A curse came from the driver's seat, the sound of hissing brakes, as Nicole's right foot was whipped out from under her, flinging her against the open door. A strong hand grabbed her left arm as the vehicle slewed to a stop.

  The driver relaxed its grip on her, and Nicole relaxed her grip on the door, sinking down upon the road's pavement. "You are insane! Poorzhab!" A door opened and Nicole could hear boots running around the vehicle, then the Drac squatted next to her. "Are you hurt? The Ovjetah will have my feet in a fire for this—oh, look at your knee!"

  "I cannot look at much of anything, Drac." She gingerly reached out and touched her right knee. "It's only scraped. Don't have a hemorrhage over it."

  "Why? Joanne Nicole, why did you do this to me?"

  "It was necessary to test the truth by trying to make it lie: Isn't that what you kizlodes have been teaching me? Trust nothing?"

  "Ahhh! You do not test the sharpness of a knife by plunging the blade into your skull, do you?" Hands reached under her armpits and lifted her back into the car. After her legs had been
lifted in and her door slammed shut, Nicole half-heard a string of muttered curses as the Drac driver moved around the vehicle and slammed its own door. Nicole presumed that the subsequent rapid clicks of metal against metal were the doors being locked. "Now, I beg you, just sit until we arrive at the kovah!"

  The vehicle jerked into motion. "Drac?"

  After a steaming silence, the Drac answered. "What?"

  "How do I test that it is the Talman Kovah, Drac?"

  "That ... that is not my problem, human! Not my problem!"

  Nicole rested her head against the back of the seat as the evidence from her most recent experiment throbbed in her knee.

  Trust in mere words was in thin supply.

  She was left, seated in a couch. After the Drac driver had left, Nicole stood up and felt her way around the room. It was a relatively small greeting room; two couches, two doors on opposite ends, the walls and floor covered in smooth tiles. She returned to the couch.

  There was the sound of a door opening, then soft, unfamiliar footsteps entering the room. The sounds of the footsteps ceased.

  "Welcome, Joanne Nicole, to the Talman Kovah. My name is Ovjetah Tora Soam."

  The voice was different—different from the one she had heard in the Chirn Kovah—different from the one she had heard at the Tora estate—always supposing that I had been at the Tora estate.

  The one calling itself Tora Soam continued: "I see questions upon your face. I am inclined to answer a few. What would you ask?"

  "The Tora Soam I know is different."

  "Does that surprise you?"

  "No.... No. I am developing a high surprise threshold."

  "Excellent."

  "But this game ... it is grotesque!"

  "It is for a purpose. You would not be here unless you understood that purpose." There was a silence; then the sound of the Drac—if it was a Drac—seating itself in the opposite couch.

  "Drac, at times, I think I know the purpose; at other times, I don't know."

  "Do you have questions?"

  Do I have questions? Hell, yes, I have questions! Will I get a straight answer to any of them?

  "Drac, the one called Tora Kia."

  "Yes?"