by Ian J Miller
The second was simpler. If he were a student, he could enter the College Tailball League. This was a strictly amateur league, which comprised younger players hoping to be taken up by a major professional club, students wanting an opportunity to gain attention to themselves, and finally slightly older Ranhynn who also wanted to draw attention to themselves in order to promote their careers. The important point about this league was that it had a wide following because it was cheap to watch, there was a reasonable skill level, and, since everybody was trying to draw attention to themselves, it was played frenetically. The deeper strategies and the really sound play of the premier leagues might be absent, but things happened.
The enrolment procedure went without a hitch, as did the interview for the tailball. As expected, the next step was a trial. Kazyn was unusually apprehensive about this. He was quite happy about his fitness level, for he had kept up exercises in a secret spot on Earth, and since Earth had about 10% more gravitational acceleration than Ranh, he had little doubt that his muscles would cope. The problem would be with touch: the ball did not behave exactly the same under 10% more gravitational acceleration.
The concept of tailball was reasonably simple. The object was to score goals by hitting the ball through a smallish hole in a backboard at the desired end of the field. Each side had twelve players, and in general play the ball could be hit with any part of the body, but could not be grasped with the hands. It was mainly struck with the tail, or more accurately, with the tail protected with a long plastic 'glove', designed to protect tail plumage. In practice the ability to use any part of the body was not important: nobody would use their head, say, or strike with their hand, when the tail was a far more powerful means of striking the ball. The rest of the body would only be used for short-range reflexive strikes, when the ball came too quickly to do anything else with it. Such relaxed rules were there primarily so that play did not stop because the ball struck an arm, or a foot. Walls surrounded the field, so the ball could not leave the field of play, so apart from outright fouls, the game was non-stop until a goal was scored, or until time was called.
The Ranhynn were therapods, and when they ran the powerful tail balanced the body, which was flung forward of the legs. In such a position, the tail was useless for hitting anything, hence tailball was a very unnatural game. To strike the ball, a Ranhyn had to bring his body into a more erect position to avoid falling over, and if, say, the ball was struck on the right hand side, the body had to lean to the left in an upright position and pivot. Naturally this put quite some strain on the muscles of the left side, left hip and left leg. This was where Kazyn hoped his training on Earth would do some good. Training in higher gravity built stronger muscles in these key parts of the body.
As expected, the first training session was tense. One problem was obvious: if he were to make a team, somebody else would not. Most of the players came from poorer backgrounds, and this was their only means of getting noticed, and they all knew that unless he had political ambitions, Kazyn did not need to get noticed. With one exception, he would be strongly disliked. That exception applied if Kazyn could help bring in more victories, because not unnaturally it was the members of the winning teams that got noticed. Kazyn knew he had to excel.
The first training session mainly involved passing and fitness training, together with some set piece practice. Kazyn had done nothing special until near the end of the session, and more than one player had given him less than encouraging comments. It was only when a set play was practiced that the situation improved. The assumption was that a foul had been committed, and a free strike was given. Kazyn was given a rather non-important position to the left and well back from the goal. The hit was powerful, and it was headed. The problem was, the ball hit the head rather than the other way around, and missed the goal, hit the backboard on the rise and ballooned out. It was well over Kazyn, but he leaped in the air, higher than any others could manage, and struck the ball with the end of his tail in a vertical position. As he tumbled to the ground, the ball struck the back wall, missing the goal by half a metre.
"Good jump!" the coach called out, then also called for an end to the training. Most left the field, but Kazyn elected to stay, saying to the coach that he needed more practice with control, as he had to get used to the lower gravitational acceleration.
"What do you mean by that?" the coach asked coarsely.
"I've been practicing for a couple of years on Earth," Kazyn explained. "Their gravity is stronger."
The coach was stunned, and muttered something about how could a dedicated sportsman want to go off-world. One or two of the other players became more curious.
"Did you really go off-world?" one who seemed more interested than the others asked.
"I did," Kazyn said with a superior look of someone who should be considered to be extremely important.
"To where it's full of humans?"
"It is indeed. They've no self-control, and there're billions of them, as was predicted from their reproductive strategy."
"It must have been horrible," the player shuddered.
"We're going to have to get used to them," Kazyn said simply, "because they're going to enter space sooner or later. You realize that will bring opportunities?"
"You think?"
"Bound to," Kazyn nodded with what he hoped was a wise expression. He could see the workings of the mind before him. Opportunities did not come readily on Ranh. "If you were interested, I might be able to open some doors for you."
"Could you?"
"If you were prepared to do something useful, I could introduce you to one of their leaders," Kazyn nodded.
"What do you mean, something useful?" came the suspicious response.
"If I introduce you," Kazyn said, "there has to be a reason for doing so. It might be nothing more than your bringing some fruit to them when it's lunch time, but they're hardly likely to want to meet half of Ranh, are they?"
"I see," came the response. There was a short period when his mind was clearly working at an unusual pace, then he finally took a decision. "I'm Zander Thuygyn," he added. "You want some more practice?"
"Good idea," Kazyn said. "Why don't we work out some joint moves, and help each other?"
Chapter 5
When Kazyn had first gone to University, it had seemed to be such an impressive place, and lecturers had seemed to know such an awful lot. When he had left, the place had seemed to fit him like a comfortable old cloak, but by then the lecturers had not seemed to be so all knowing, and indeed some had obvious limitations. However, because he so desperately needed the degree, he bit his tongue and studied what they had prescribed. Now he had returned, the place seemed a trifle quaint, the over-eager young Ranhyn seemed so predictable rather than so familiar, and since he was attending for no other reason than to qualify as a student, the lecturers now seemed depressingly ordinary.
The physics lectures gave him no idea whether the Terrans would get further on the propulsion systems. The next steps certainly seemed difficult to him, but that might be because he was not that interested. There were certainly some difficult mathematics, but mathematics were particularly difficult when you were not interested, and had not been practising. There was only one further conceptual leap, and he had no idea how difficult that would be.
Nevertheless, that conceptual leap would be trivial if the local Ulsians dropped a hint. Those Ulsians intended to keep an eye on progress. They had already cleared up one misunderstanding, which meant that they could not be relied upon to say nothing. That meant that the Terrans were destined to get into space. The question was, when?
He had to focus on that question. He was sitting alone, as usual, in the cafeteria. He knew very few of the students, and he was quickly coming to the conclusion that the students had little interest in him. Perhaps word was getting around as to whom he was, or perhaps it was simply a matter of students not being particularly interested in anything that was not in their immediate future, or in anybody
who was not already involved with them. He contemplated his near empty glass. No, he did not need another of these drinks. He would be on his way.
"Mind if I join you?"
Kazyn looked up to see Zander Thuygyn. "Not at all," Kazyn indicated a chair. He watched as Thuygyn sat down, seemingly uncertain as to what to do next. Kazyn began drumming a claw on the table, then he said, "You seem thoughtful?"
"I was wondering . . ."
"Wondering what?"
"You said," Thuygyn said slowly, "that there would be opportunities with these Terrans."
"Yes, I did," Kazyn said, and resumed his slow drumming.
"But . . well . . . they're not in space yet."
"No, they're not," Kazyn agreed, "but it shouldn't take too long."
"But if they've not even developed a space-going motor . . ."
"Actually, they have, although some would describe it more as a bomb than a motor," Kazyn shrugged.
"They wouldn't be allowed to bring a bomb here," Thuygyn protested.
"And the Ulsians wouldn't let them go into space with it. They've more or less insisted they develop the more conventional motor."
"And even if they get the principles, it'll take centuries to get the engineering right."
"Not if the Ulsians help," Kazyn pointed out.
"They wouldn't, would they?"
"Why not?" Kazyn asked. "They feel they are somewhat in the Terrans' debt. If it weren't for the Terrans, the local Ulsians would have been wiped out." He paused, then as he waved a claw, he added, "It wasn't as if Ranh was much help right then."
"You know why not," Thuygyn shrugged.
"As it happens, I don't," Kazyn frowned. "Why should I?"
"You're connected with the Space Curia," Thuygyn pointed out.
"Seemingly not well enough," Kazyn admitted, "but I am closely connected with the person who was the Terran equivalent of head of their Great Conclave."
"But that's not a Ranhyn connection," Thuygyn pointed out.
"No, but once they make peace with the Terrans, we can take ships there to trade."
"Suppose they don't make peace?" Thuygyn asked doubtfully.
"Why wouldn't they?" Kazyn frowned. "You don't know something, do you?"
"Oh no!" Thuygyn protested. "I mean, they don't have to."
"They do if they want peace," Kazyn said, and waved a claw to make his point. "And they do if I'm to set up a tourist venture for jaded Ranhynn . . ."
"Tourists?"
"Don't you see?" Kazyn pointed out. "That's the one planet that is not Ranhyn controlled where they can mix with the locals and eat their food without dying. The one planet where they can have a minor adventure, and not be under the thumb of the priests. And, of course, it is the planet of origin. We'd make a fortune."
"We would?"
"We could even start up our own Curia if those mammals in the current Space Curia can't get their act together."
"That could be stopped . . ."
"By whom? I've got a ship."
"Well, for starters, the Cardinals. They've . . ."
"They've what?" Kazyn asked.
"Well, nothing specific, but they do have ships."
"Lots and lots of ships," Kazyn said sarcastically.
"See, you agree!"
Kazyn stared in surprise. The sarcasm had been lost on Thuygyn, and he seemed to be relieved that Kazyn knew that somehow the Conclave had access to lots of ships. In fact, Kazyn knew nothing of the sort. The message given to him while he was on Earth was that Ranh did not have many warships at all, as they had all been sent to assist Ulse. He thought about this for a minute, then said, "So, what's the problem?"
"They could stop us. I mean, the government doesn't need much of an excuse to intercept ships not on designated trade routes, and –"
"After the peace treaty is signed, there'll be a designated trade route," Kazyn said firmly, "and the first flight will be accompanied by at least one mainline battleship. Who's going to sign a peace treaty, then take on a ship like that? It would be declaring war treacherously on the most powerful civilization in this part of the galaxy, and who, I might add, are starting to get a little pissed off, to quote a Terran phrase, with the previous antics of Ranh."
"You think there'll be a peace treaty?"
Kazyn stared at him. The real question, he knew, was would there be a treaty that was honoured. "Of course!" Kazyn said. "I know it looks a little doubtful now, but you realize that the big returns come to those who pick the right side while the outcome is in doubt?"
Kazyn could see that Thuygyn was undecided about something, perhaps even confused. They sat and talked mainly about the next tailball game, but neither was thinking about that. Kazyn was certain that Thuygyn knew something, including the fact that there must be a rumour that the government was building up a fleet. There had been nothing in any of the media statements, but perhaps it might pay to get his mother to search the Curia files.
Meanwhile, Thuygyn was wondering whether Kazyn had any realistic chance of success. Thuygyn believed that at the Conclave level, the Supreme Priests would strongly oppose the integration of Ranhynn society with that of the Source of Creation. In normal circumstances, Kazyn could be dismissed as irrelevant. His specific family had been ousted even from the Space Curia and was in disarray. He had no power base, so progress was impossible. Except for one point. He claimed to have a close association with the Supreme Priest equivalent on Earth, and also with an Ulsian Space Marshall.
And there was the nub of the problem. Under normal situations, if the Conclave put some planet out of bounds, the Military Curia would enforce the prohibition of ships going to that planet. But if they were to be escorted by an Ulsian mainline battleship, now what? Any action would involve a declaration of war against a force that should normally be expected to defeat Ranh. Surely the Conclave would not risk that? Then again, when had religious fervour really been subdued by logic? If it were any other planet, the answer would be clear, but for the Source of Creation, would the priests see sense? Thuygyn began to realise his whole career was at stake. The obvious move was to walk away from this time bomb, but that would lead to reasonably clear career oblivion if this Kuyrill prevailed. Should he take the risk?
In the end, Thuygyn decided that it would be better to put off a decision. He thanked Kazyn, made some encouraging noises that did not include commitment, and noted that he would be late for an appointment.
Kazyn watched as he left. That had been a white lie, he knew, because Thuygyn was not moving with the urgency required to make up time, and moreover, once outside he had noticed that Thuygyn had hesitated. Clearly he was deciding where to go next, which is not the action of someone rushing to an urgent meeting. Yet that was encouraging. In Ranhyn society, a white lie was only resorted to when it was unclear what to do.
* * *
The first weekend was frustrating for Kazyn. He made his way to the stadium full of expectation, only to find that not only had he not made the team, but also he had not even made the bench. He knew he had to swallow his annoyance as he knew everybody would be watching for his reaction. He made a big effort to wish those in the positions he was trying out for the best of luck, and that grated, but he did not show it, then he took his place behind the replacement bench, and shouted encouragement at frequent intervals.
The team won, although Kazyn noted that two of the players had had poor games. He made a great show of waiting until he would be in full view of the coach, then he would approach them and console them on their bad luck to be wrong-footed at a certain time, or to have gotten a bad bounce, or to have been unlucky their pass had not gone quite where it was intended. That was not considered bad form. In Ranhyn society, it was considered important to promote yourself by tactfully pointing out the weaknesses of a competitor. Amongst other things, it showed that you had been watching. The coach would evaluate these comments, and would judge Kazyn's ability by them.
As it happened, Kazyn never knew whether his e
fforts had been appreciated because during the next practice one of his competitors injured a leg. Fortunately Kazyn had been nowhere near the incident and it was accepted as a pure accident, and pure bad luck. It did, however, mean that Kazyn had to be promoted at least to the bench for the next three games.
* * *
He had given some thought to Thuygyn's comments, and he decided to try out a small search for information. He recognized immediately that there was a certain risk in doing this. Since he had just returned from Earth, he could be seen as some sort of spy, so it was important that he was not identified. The trouble with taking that simple approach was that the publicly available terminals could not get anywhere close to being of interest. Access to the important sources needed identification. Fortunately, since Hadell automatically had the necessary clearance to enquire about anything, Kazyn knew the form of the approval codes. It was obvious that he could not use Hadell's codes, but the good news was that these codes were not that subtle. They depended on the family, and on the standings, and so on. There was a small string of numbers that were supposed to be random, but they were not. To make it easier to remember the codes, half of these numbers related to the most likely set of machines to be used. Since Hadell had been a Tenzat, the formula for this was known.
One of the advantages of being a student was that it was possible to locate hackers. It took Kazyn very little time to locate the source of a small random number generator. He then went to the Space Curia. He admitted himself through a rear door that would not be well known, then he avoided the security systems as he made his way to a room that he knew would be empty, but which had a terminal. He keyed in what he knew should apply for a Thapet, then he set the generator. Because he had not identified himself or the person supposedly at the terminal, there was no mechanism to reject "false tries", and the generator kept feeding in numbers until it suddenly stopped. This had taken less than a second. Up came the screen welcoming him. He wrote down the name of the Thapet, the number that had worked, then he closed down and left. He returned to somewhere near the door, then made his way towards the office section. He produced his own identification card and requested five documents relating to his father.