The Enemy Papers

by Barry B. Longyear

  "Sanda got in touch again. Aakva Lua managed to track down a hovercraft capable of firing the marker missile that almost took you out. The owner is a Drac, as is the pilot. Sanda found both of them dead. Suicide, Sanda thinks. The hovercraft is a charter out of First Colony. Ty is running the charter service's financial records, as well."

  I hold up my hands. "Michael Hill, after he made his attempt, he fell to his death." I lower my hands and face Davidge. "We assume he just made a wrong turn in the dark. What if he, too, committed suicide? What if all three were under the influence of some sort of mind control? Between that neural amplifier that they use in mind fusion, and the Timan variety the Ri Mou Tavii uses in instruction, all kinds of things could be planted in an individual's mind. What if whoever is behind this used Hill and those two Dracs like self-destructing robots?"

  Davidge snaps his fingers as he fixes his gaze on a point in space. "Maybe that's it," he says quietly. He moves his eyes slowly until he is looking at me. "Ro, what was it that changed you?"

  "Changed me?"

  "From what you told me, one minute you're cutting up Front soldiers with an energy knife and the next you're letting some human female run off with a Drac baby. What changed you?"

  I think back to that moment when I first saw the Drac baby in the woman's arms, both of them hiding beneath a bed in the smoke and filth of that shattered bunker. "It's not human," I said to her. She answered by saying, "No. It's mine."

  "For a moment I saw the pain, the loss, the desperate fear of another." I look up at Davidge. "For a moment I could not think of humans and Dracs. I caught a view through her eyes. We were the same: frightened beings in the center of a firestorm. After that I could no longer carry a weapon for the Mavedah."

  "Maybe that's it," repeats Davidge once more. "Maybe we're supposed to mind fuse everybody on Amadeen, give everyone a peek into the other guy's skull, turn everybody's enemy into just another frightened being. Maybe that's what we're here to learn how to do. Where's Falna?"

  "I don't know, and how are you going to mind fuse an entire planet?"

  "Details." Davidge gets to his feet. "Falna can tell me if what we want to do is possible."

  Kita reaches out a hand and touches Davidge's arm. "What about the investigation?"

  "Let's see if the mind fusion can be done, first. If that's the way to go, though, you'll have to continue here on your own―unless you want to come with us."

  "To Amadeen?" she asks.

  As she reaches out a hand to take Davidge's, the waiter comes up to us carrying a tiny black comm link in his hand. "Mr. Davidge, there is a call for you."

  "Thanks." Placing the link to his ear, he says into the speaker plate, "This is Davidge." His mouth splits into a wide grin. "Hey, Falna, we were just talking about you. Where―" He frowns, then his face becomes like stone. Without looking at Kita, he releases her hand. "We'll be right there."

  He closes the cover on the link. Turning to us he says, "That was Falna. Jeriba Ty is dead. Nisak security found Ty in an airlock, no suit, the place filled with Timan air."

  "Suicide?" I ask, my voice more cynical-sounding than I intend.

  Davidge tosses the link on his chair, nods once, then turns to head for the quarters wing.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Jeriba Ty sits slumped against the bulkhead near the airlock's interior control panel looking as though it were asleep. There are no signs of struggle. A human Timan Nisak security officer gives us a report on the playback from the airlock control panel. The open command was given from the oxygen side of the hatch, the hatch opened, the close hatch command was given from inside the lock, and the hatch closed. The open command was then given from inside the lock to the Timan side hatch. An automatic caution warning requiring special gear to enter the Timan section went on, the cancel warning command was given, and the oxynitrogen atmosphere pumped out and replaced by Planet Timan's mix of ammonia, carbon dioxide, and several other disagreeable substances. By the time the Timan side of the lock opened, Jeriba Ty was certainly dead.

  During the recital, Davidge kneels next to Ty. He whispers words to the corpse, sits on his heels and becomes like stone, then cries quietly. When the crying ends, he stands and continues looking at the body of one of his charges. While I am thinking that Will Davidge must be seeing Ty as a child in his cave, the learning, the playing, the hurts and tears, Kita and Reaper come through the hatch. When the security officer finishes, Kita says to Davidge, "The link records show only the calls Ty made. Any data it received have been removed from the system."

  Davidge gathers his thoughts, comes back to reality, and frowns at Kita. "Removed?"

  "The link automatically saves everything, Will. To clear the data from the system it had to be intentionally removed. Reaper and I went through Ty's quarters and there are no data cards or notes."

  Davidge looks down at Ty's face. "I've gotten you killed." He looks at Kita, Reaper, and Falna in turn. "Go over everything, then go over it again. Ty's quarters, the murder scene, call everyone Ty called and have them send whatever they sent to Ty. Answers. I need answers,"

  He faces me and cocks his head toward the open hatchway. "Ro, I have to make a couple of calls. I can use some company."

  As I turn to follow Davidge, I look to Falna, but it is next, to Kita, bending over the body of Jeriba Ty.

  In the subspace link's little chamber, I look into all of the dark corners, my mind flooded with truths and suspicions of truths. At one point I am so overwhelmed I lean against the wall. When I look at the screen, I see that Davidge has made a subspace link to Friendship and Aakva Lua. "Why are you calling Sanda first?"

  "Cowardice," he answers flatly. "The easy call first."

  There is not much to pass on, except the news of Ty's death and my suspicions regarding mind fusion. Afterward Davidge calls Jeriba Zammis. I watch as Zammis's forceful, dynamic manner evaporates upon learning of its child's death. Zammis looks stunned for a moment, then comes under complete control. After the call is concluded I mention how strong Zammis seemed.

  "Zammis can't afford to feel its feelings just yet. Zammis still has to tell Haesni." He glances at me. "You know how that is."

  "I know how that is."

  The last call Davidge makes is to the Talman Kovah on Draco. Jeriba Shigan is awakened from its sleep to receive the call by servants who are none too pleased at the task. Once on the screen, Davidge bluntly tells the Ovjetah, "We are on Timan. Jeriba Ty is dead. Falna and two others are investigating, but right now it looks as though it's murder staged to look like a suicide." I watch Shigan's face as the news is disbelieved, fought, and eventually accepted. While the Ovjetah wages its battle, Davidge explains the circumstances. Listening to the bitter tone in his voice it seems as though, in some manner, Davidge blames the Ovjetah. At last Davidge explains our thoughts concerning mind fusion on Amadeen and he asks, "Have we paid enough of a price on Timan? Can you look in your computer and at least tell me if our wild goose chase here is over?"

  I never saw Jeriba Shigan look so old, so tired. "Knowledge of the path might close the path, Uncle."

  "Dammit―"

  "Uncle, you are the one who first taught me about talma!" shouts the Ovjetah. After the interruption, Jeriba Shigan calms a bit and says, "Right now we can see several possible paths. If I tell you what they are, you will pick the one you like the best and pursue it, disregarding the rest. Or, to protect yourself from creating what you used to call a self-fulfilling prophesy, you might refuse all of the paths." The Ovjetah rubs its eyes and looks at Davidge. "You must be free of such self-imposed restraints and limitations. You must be free to move from path to path, for I am convinced that the talma that will succeed has yet to be discovered."

  Davidge takes a deep breath, lets it escape his lungs, and says more gently, "I know. Forgive me, Shiggy. The years haven't made me any smarter." He reaches to cut off the link and I place my hand on his shoulder. "I want to talk to the Ovjetah."

  Davidge frowns at
me. "Alone or do you want an audience?"

  "Alone."

  The human raises his eyebrows, shrugs, and leaves the small room. I take his place in the seat and look at the image of Jeriba Shigan on the screen. "I grieve your loss, Ovjetah."

  Shigan nods its thanks and asks, "How are you faring on the Jetai Diea's wild goose chase?"

  I think for a moment, my mind still swamped with its new truths. "Ovjetah, I am in places I do not want to be learning things I do not want to know."

  "What is your opinion regarding mind fusion as a tool to bring about an end to the fighting on Amadeen?"

  I lean back in the seat and take a deep breath. There are many subjects to discuss to avoid the things I need to say. I can spare some time for one answer.

  "I do not know how we can submit the population of an entire planet to mind fusion." I hold out my hands, then drop them in my lap. "Ovjetah, mind fusion allowed me to see things about myself I wouldn't ordinarily see. The thing that changed me, though, had nothing to do with mind fusion. Besides, few on Amadeen want to give up their pain. Most feed off it. It defines them. It makes them belong to each other. For every one on Amadeen we can coax into mind fusion, there are ten thousand we cannot." I look at Jeriba Shigan and say, "There are some things I need to know, and to ask I need to know that my questions and your answers remain confidential,"

  The Ovjetah raises an eyebrow as it considers my request. "I and my assistants will respect your confidence." Shigan leans toward the screen and adjusts something. As it leans back in its seat, a channel encode message appears across the screen. "Now everyone else will respect your confidence, as well,"

  I ask for the information I need and watch as the Ovjetah frowns back. When I am finished, Jeriba Shigan's voice is very cold. "As soon as I have the information you want I will communicate with you."

  "My thanks, Ovjetah. If you would, please tell Matope we are making progress toward peace on Amadeen."

  "Matope?"

  "The human in the wheelchair with the sign."

  "I will tell him. As you walk your path, Yazi Ro, take care," and then the screen returns to the cloud and sun symbol for Timan Nisak. Once I stop shaking, I place a call to Friendship. When the link is completed, Undev Orin comes on screen to answer. After its greetings and good wishes, I give Orin my request. As it hurries away from the link I hear myself asking Uhe's ancient question: "Aakva, why do you play with your creatures so?"

  That night I bury myself in Falna's arms. It whispers in my ear, "Why are you so frightened, Ro?"

  I say nothing out loud. What does one who feels like a leaf blown about by the universe's wind say to one who feels like a rock? Falna grew within the love, safety, and wisdom of Davidge's cave. I grew within the hate, danger, and stupidity of the battlefield. All I say is, "Love me. No questions. Please, for tonight, love me."

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Graduation from the Ri Mou Tavii. All of the nests, from low to high, gather through mind fusion to witness and participate in the competition. The Dakiz posits a threat and hears the candidates for graduation as each one applies the lessons to eliminate or divert the threat. The Dakiz chooses the first application he finds satisfactory and that student then must posit a threat of its own. The title of 'do Timan goes to ones who posit threats that have no satisfactory answer. The top honor of ni 'do Timan goes to the ones who posit threats no one besides them can resolve satisfactorily.

  The problems are stated, the solutions are offered, and it pleases me not at all that I guess the correct solutions before the Dakiz. The threat I have to posit is the one to which I have no answer.

  The latest successful student, Pria, posits a single individual as the threat. The setting is a closed environment containing only two beings: the threat and the one who is threatened. The environment is such that no third being or force can be either brought in or can intrude. I signal my willingness to participate and the Dakiz selects me.

  "Know the threat," I begin. "With this knowledge divide the mind of the threat. Cast its interests against its loyalties, its loyalties against its loves, its morality against its reality."

  "Example," calls the Dakiz.

  I look at my fellow students and point at the one who posited the problem: "Pria. You shall be the threat."

  Pria throws wide its fleshy arms, takes a step toward me, and says, "I am going to crush you to death!" He growls rather effectively.

  In response I say, "If you take another step toward me, Pria, I will break every bone in your body."

  "Ehh?" Pria looks to the Dakiz and the Dakiz looks at me.

  "Violence?" asks the Dakiz.

  "No. The threat of violence."

  "This is not a solution."

  I point a finger at Pria's lower extremities. "Notice the threat's feet, Dakiz. They do not move. I have placed Pria's loyalty to his problem against his interest not to have broken bones. I have placed Pria's morality, that no Timan should ever respond with violence, against its reality: I am not a Timan and if he takes another step I will break every bone in his body. Pria believes me. The threat is thereby neutralized and I have not resorted to violence."

  The Dakiz asks the students for competing responses, and the scant two who apply fail in their applications. One favors begging and the other tries buying off the threat with promises it intends not to keep. The Dakiz calls neither for examples. No longer looking entertained, the Dakiz nods toward me. "State your problem, Yazi Ro."

  In our communal mind I face all of the classes. "The threat is an ongoing war in a closed system between two species, neither of which has the ability to forget or forgive an injury. Each side's goal is the elimination of the other side. The end of the threat requires peace."

  "Who are the ones who are threatened?" asks a student.

  "All of those on the planet."

  "What is the original cause of the conflict?" asks another student.

  "Irrelevant," I answer. "The original cause is outweighed by the continuing cause."

  "What is the continuing cause of the war?" asks the same student,

  "The war," I answer.

  The student named Ojuahn asks, "Are both species warlike to the degree that everyone on both sides are warriors!"

  "No. In fact, at any one time I would guess that only a fifth to a quarter of each species on the planet belongs to one of the combatant groups. Perhaps a majority of those of each species would like to have peace."

  "A peace less drastic than the elimination of the opposing species?" presses Ojuahn.

  "Any kind of peace," I answer.

  "A truce, then. Resolve what can be resolved, and have peace."

  "Every time there is a truce," I begin, "uncontrollable factions and individuals from each side attack and perform atrocities that ignite again the larger war. Truces that once lasted weeks and months are now reduced to hours or a day. Neither side can police its uncontrollable factions for neither political leadership can survive the prosecution of its own kind for the crime of killing those of the other side."

  There are more questions, some explanations, no answers that manage to survive testing. I did not think there would be. Since I posit the lone problem without sufficient answer, I graduate at the top of my class. The Dakiz says, "Take your place with honor, Yazi Ro 'do Timan."

  Perhaps if the Timans had been able to consider such problems for centuries their answers would have been more useful. However, on Timan solutions involve starting wars, arranging it so others start wars, or shunning a war and dumping it in someone else's lap. Not since the time of Bahtuo, King Jax, and Lord Nuba had the Timans actually carried arms and fought in a war, and never had the end of a war itself been considered the removal of a threat.

  I stay in bed the next day. That evening I shun all company, walk the gardens until my legs ache, then go back to my quarters. Falna is waiting for me there, a special repast illuminated by candles is prepared. "All my best wishes and sincerest congratulations, Yazi Ro 'do Timan." It holds a hand
out toward the table. "For your celebration."

  "What kind of mind does it take to celebrate a failure?"

  Falna holds its head back as though I had slapped it. "A failure? You received a very high honor from the Dakiz, Ro. If you want, you can continue at the Ri Mon Tavii with a high nest."

  "Falna, I have one problem that I need to solve. The fact that neither I nor anyone else can solve it was what earned me my so-called honor." I allow myself a bitter laugh. "Besides, it was not original work."

  "Come, Ro," Falna begs, its hand held out toward the table. I notice that it is wearing a special, filmy black gown. Its body moves seductively beneath the fabric.

  "No. I realize you have gone to some special trouble for tonight, Falna, but no. Tonight I want to be by myself."

  "Please―"

  "Leave me!" I shout. I turn my back, go into the bed chamber, and close the door. There I sit in the dark and remind myself why the children of the battlefield do without love and hope. To have love one must have hope, and to have hope one must be a fool. Quietly I hear Falna close the door as it leaves my quarters.

  How many ways are there to be a fool? I am not certain, but I think I must have explored all of them by now. Of course, every time I think that, I am usually on the brink of discovering new worlds of foolishness.

  A regular alarm corresponding with a flashing blue light comes from the com link next to the bed. I stand it as long as possible, then cross the room and pick up the link. "What?"

  "Many sorrows for disturbing you," says the Timan operator, "but there is an urgent communication for you coming in on the Keu Vac Ount subspace link from Draco."

  I stand there, the last brick in the burial vault in my hand. "I will be there in a moment."