Balance of Power

by Stableford, Brian

  I eased myself from the bed and dressed quickly. “Where are they?” I asked.

  “Piet’s rooms,” she replied.

  I reflected sadly that it was a pity to have missed breakfast, but followed her along the corridor and up the staircase. The row was still going strong when we got here. Piet was pacing up and down, almost trembling with anger. The others stood still in various corners of the room. Anna was well back, with the table in between herself and the others, taking little or no part. The one that I hadn’t seen before—Charles—was standing about a meter inside the doorway, with Christian by his side. Both were stationed at right angles to the path of Piet’s prowling line. Jan was away to the side, participating but not overtly taking one side or the other. Mariel and I slipped in behind the co-defendants and moved to a station opposite Jan’s. Only Anna glanced at us for more than a fraction of a second.

  “I think he’s right!” Christian was saying.

  “You would think he’s right,” rasped Piet, with some vituperation.

  “You could at least listen,” suggested Charles. The second of the four brothers was physically the most impressive—he was slightly taller than Piet but much more solidly built. His resemblance to Piet and Jan might otherwise have been clear had he not sported a beard that concealed much of the lower part of his face in a tangle of pale brown curly hair.

  “Piet,” put in Jan, “there’s no point in this. It’s done now. Why rave about it? We’re committed. Let’s get on with it.”

  “It’s done now!” mimicked Piet, throwing up his hands in a histrionic gesture. “I hear nothing else. All of you...you just carry on without thinking...you foul things up right, left and center. And you come to me and say ‘Never mind what I ought to have done. Never mind what I ought to have thought. It’s done now.’ And you expect me to....”

  “Nobody expects you to do anything,” Charles cut in.

  “You make me sick!” said Piet. “The lot of you. You bring the plague to our very doorstep and Jan brings....”

  He had stopped and half-turned to point at us. He had known that we were in the room, but it had not quite impinged upon his consciousness until he’d actually referred to us. Now he thought to question our presence. He checked the pointing finger and dropped his arm.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked, pleasantly.

  There was a chorus of contradictory answers. Christian and Jan both said “Yes,” and all but drowned out Piet’s “No.” The mixed reaction surprised me, but it seemed to reinfuriate Piet. He didn’t know quite which one of his brothers to attack. Jan stepped quickly forward to take hold of his arm.

  “Listen, Piet,” he said. “There’s no point in all this. Perhaps Charles acted precipitately. But he had his reasons, and there’s some merit in them. If we can do as he says then we can destroy this stupid rumor just like that. And Alex can help. If there’s one man who can do it, it’s Alex. And don’t you see what that will do for us? An emergency arises, and in the very moment that panic begins to spread new human visitors arrive...and through them we cope with the emergency. Ilah’y’su! Who could deny it?”

  While Jan was speaking I began to have small doubts about the role that he was carving out for me, but it didn’t seem to be the right moment to object. If this was a chance to get a foot in the door....

  But Piet was already answering. “Oh yes!” he said, his voice almost a hiss. “And what then? He takes our place, I suppose. He becomes the successor to our father. And what do we do? Go to the sea, like you? Become dam-builders, like idiot Charles? What are you trying to do to us?”

  “Don’t be a fool,” said Christian. “The Ore’l aren’t going to discriminate between us. As far as they’re concerned we’re all humans, all one family. Whatever he does can only work in favor of all of us. He doesn’t want to take our place, or take up where our father left off. Do you?”

  The last question was addressed to me.

  “No,” I answered, truthfully.

  Piet, still seething with fury, looked around for support. Jan had definitely taken his stance alongside Charles and Christian. Anna was still standing well back. When he looked at her she gave no sign of support, and said nothing.

  “You’ll destroy us all!” he said, his voice still twisted by the infection in his throat—if infection it was. He was facing Charles as he said it, but the condemnation was meant much more generally. He turned away, then, and walked to the inner door of the suite, which presumably led through to the bedroom. He closed it behind him with a crash.

  “We’d better go to my room,” said Christian. He moved toward the door. We all moved with him except Anna. Jan turned as we left, and said to her: “Are you coming?”

  She shook her head slowly. Jan shrugged.

  Christian’s room was only a few doors down the corridor. We all went inside. He indicated soundlessly that we should sit down. There were only two armchairs—Jan took one and Mariel the other. The rest of us took chairs from the table and moved them around so that we could all see one another. The atmosphere was tense. Christian still seemed angry about the quarrel and embarrassed about his anger. Jan, too, was angry—perhaps because Piet had referred unkindly to his own action in bringing us to Ak’lehr. Charles just looked deflated by the whole thing.

  Jan introduced us to the newcomer, with mock formality.

  “What makes you think I can help?” I asked, already having more than a suspicion.

  “Charles had better tell it,” said Christian. “From the beginning.”

  Charles gathered himself together a little. “We’ve been building a dam on a river in the far southwest,” he said. “We occupy the territory—which is to say, we lay claim to it all and have established army posts in most of the major settlements. We’ve pushed the road through. There’s lots of good land there, once the trees are cleared from the hills, and there could be a great deal more if we can irrigate the grassland plain to the south of the hills. That’s what the dam’s for. We can divert a good deal of the river’s flow westward into the dry land. At the moment, the grassland’s inhabited by nomadic herdsmen—there were a lot of the same type in the plain to the north of the range of hills, and there still are, although farmers are moving in. There’s always trouble in that region between herdsmen and farmers, and I think that has a lot to do with the discontent that’s bred this vile rumor.

  “Anyhow, most of my workers come from the villages north of the hills. A couple of months ago I tried to recruit more, and couldn’t. Not only that, but once I’d made the trip the rate of desertion on the job itself began to climb. It turned out that there’d been an outbreak of some disease north of the hills, and it was being whispered about that it had been caused by the involvement of local people with the dam—or, more specifically—with me. The herdsmen had always had the disease in their tribes, but it had always been rare. There’d never been an epidemic—only isolated cases. They associated the change with all the other changes going on around them—with the farmers coming, with the road, with the soldiers—all the things which they see threatening their way of life. The trouble is that the farmers seemed to accept this diagnosis, because they began to catch the disease too...only in ones or twos to start with, but with cases becoming more frequent. The army was infected, too...and they all began to accept the logic of its being caused by the changes in their way of life. Only the empire immigrants knew that it wasn’t them who were to blame but us...the humans. We, in their minds, were the ultimate cause of all the changes. We had been hailed as ilah’y’su by the priests. Thus the disease was the judgment of Y’su, sent because the priests had made a mistake.

  “At first I intended to brazen it out. But I couldn’t get the work done. The dam was virtually stalemated...and then they actually began sabotage. Not only weren’t we making progress, but our work was being destroyed. I knew it was only a matter of time before they got to me, too. I had army protection,
but I couldn’t be wholly sure of their loyalty.

  “I’d sent letters here warning of the situation, but I got no reply but reassuring noises from Piet. The rumor hadn’t reached Ak’lehr then, and the situation seemed anything but serious to him. I understand things are a little different now, but of course he blames that on me.

  “I could see only one thing to do. I had to get out, but getting out wouldn’t be enough. I’d leave behind me a flourishing whispering campaign and the possibility of a rebellion in the province. So I decided that the best thing to do was to bring back some of the herdsmen who’d had the disease and recovered—it kills about half of those who catch it—plus some bodies for post-mortem. Here, I thought, we might be able to learn what the disease is and prepare some kind of anti-serum in order to provide immunization. I brought some of the animals, too, because I thought they might be the ultimate cause of the disease if the herdsmen had known it sporadically since time immemorial.

  “Well, it seemed like a good plan, but you can imagine the trouble. I had the corpses packed in ice, but it’s one hell of a long way from the far south to Ak’lehr. It was a long battle trying to keep the bodies from putrefying...I had to jettison the original ones...but then I found that the disease was also traveling north along the road. I got new bodies...and had to abandon them, too. I really began to appreciate the magnitude of the problem when I found yet another replacement. Only one, this time but by this time I was deep into the heartland of the empire. This thing is spreading north, and its spreading quickly. Inevitably, the rumor began to grow around me, and with it the rumor that I was carrying it...that it was me, dragging plague-ridden corpses and herders and their filthy animals, that was spreading the disease. It was useless to point out that it had preceded me to the points where I’d picked up fresh corpses. It was useless to point out that it had been rife long before I set out. Thank Y’su, the soldiers I had with me were sensible men...they knew what I was trying to do. They realized the importance of trying to stop this thing. If only Piet realized!

  “They wouldn’t let me into the city. Rumor had got here ahead of me, and they were certain that if they let my wagons in the plague would be in Ak’lehr itself. Eventually, after half a dozen people from the college came out to talk to me—including Christian—I was allowed in. The wagons are still outside the walls but the rumor is inside and picking up force with every back alley it goes down. Piet’s blazing mad...but he doesn’t see that if I hadn’t done what I did I’d have been postponing the day rather than preventing it. This epidemic isn’t going to be stopped by ignoring it. We need to take some kind of action...at least to find out what’s causing it. I think I can persuade some of the masters—they don’t like the rumors any more than we do. But the way Piet’s acting he’s likely to add fuel to the fire instead of water. Christian hasn’t told me much about you, except that you’re from Earth, but if you can help....”

  I nodded. “I can help,” I said. “I lost a lot of my equipment in a little domestic dispute, but I have the essentials...and the college presumably has its own labs and some kind of facilities. The essential thing is to bring your specimens in and isolate them somewhere. We need help. Are you sure you can get some measure of cooperation from the masters?”

  “I can,” said Christian. “I’ve helped out in medical research before. I can get cooperation now. The masters want to stop this plague in the south as much as anyone. They’ll take care of the oafs at the gate.”

  “Then move,” I said. “We’d better not waste any time.”

  Christian nodded, and went to the door. Charles hesitated, then made a small gesture of thanks in my direction, and followed.

  I remained seated for a few moments, looking at Jan, who was staring at me pensively.

  “Maybe it was a mistake,” he said.

  “Charles bringing the herdsmen and the body back?” I queried.

  “No,” he said. “That was criminally stupid. I’m talking about my bringing you here.”

  I shook my head. “What Charles said about postponing the evil day is right,” I said. “In either case. He was right to do as he did, and so were you. You have to face things. You can’t brush them under the carpet. If you postpone evil days all you gain is a little time—and you lose any chance you ever had of dealing with them when they come.”

  “It’s done now,” he said, dismissing the whole issue.

  “That’s right,” I replied. “You’d better come with me to get my equipment—you can show me where the lab is and help me carry the stuff down.”

  “Do you think you can do anything?” he asked.

  “I’m certain.”

  “Do you think...if you hadn’t been here...we, or the masters...?”

  “Maybe,” I said. “But we’ll never know. I can do it better. If there ever was a problem made just for me, then this is it.”

  “That’s what I thought,” he said. He still seemed reluctant to move, as if there were still something on his mind.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” he replied.

  “Ilah’y’su,” said Mariel, for the first time. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

  He looked at her in some surprise. I realized what she meant. Jan was at least half a believer. He’d been brought up in an alien culture with an alien god. He was his father’s son...but he was also an Ak’lehrian. He was prepared to acknowledge us as messengers of god. Not to the Ore’l, but to him.

  “Let’s go,” I said. “There’s work to do.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I worked all day and most of the night on the body that Charles had brought in. Mariel, Christian and Charles acted as my assistants. We thought it best to keep the masters and all the students who habitually used the lab out of the way, because of the danger of infection. They were not too reluctant to comply.

  It was easy enough to find out what—in terms of physical symptoms—had killed the alien. His blood had been poisoned by a reaction rather like hepatitis. Finding the cause was a different matter, with only a small microscope to help. I took blood samples from the herdsmen who’d had the disease and recovered, and then dispatched Christian to get blood samples from some healthy Ore’l. It was a long, slow job. Long before I gave up I knew that Charles’ efforts had probably been in vain, at least as far as the dead man was concerned. He had been too long dead, and despite the ice-pack the processes of decay had made my job too difficult.

  I got Charles to comb the shaggy fur of the beasts he had brought in, and showed Christian how to prepare blood samples from them for later examination. During breaks in the routine I questioned the herdsmen, with Charles’ aid. I formed several hypotheses, and sorted out the one which I felt in my bones to be the likeliest, but I couldn’t find anything that looked like definite evidence. I couldn’t confidently exclude any of half a dozen possible explanations.

  Jan brought food to us during the day, and in the evening he was joined by Anna. She asked probing questions about what we’d found, and I knew she’d be reporting back to Piet. I didn’t imagine that the absence of good news would cheer him up, even though it did suggest that he had been right regarding the folly of Charles’ action.

  I was feeling very disappointed by midnight, and the others who’d worked with me were sharing the disappointment in full measure. There was a certain desperation in Charles’ attempt to find something else we could do that might point the way to an answer.

  While we sat in dispirited silence, just about ready to pack it in for the night, Jan came into the lab again. He looked at the dissecting table, which was now bare, and at the benches where we’d examined set after set of slides, which were now in a state of tired disarray.

  “Nothing?” he asked.

  I answered with the slightest of gestures.

  “What’s the one thing you need in order to crack the problem?” he asked.

  At first thought it was a hypothetical problem, and I considered that the answer was so obvious that I could
treat it as a rhetorical one. Then I realized that if it was rhetorical it probably wasn’t hypothetical.

  Charles knew, too. He went white.

  “Oh, no...,” he said, sickly.

  “One of the soldiers who brought you back,” said Jan. “And he’s been off duty for six hours. Most of the time he was at home, but....”

  The plague was in the city.

  Immediately, I cursed myself for a fool for not insisting that the whole of Charles’ returning party should be quarantined. But I had forgotten about the military escort. Had I gone to the city gate myself I would have seen them, or seen something that would have triggered the thought in my mind, but I hadn’t.

  “Where is he?” I asked.

  “Upstairs,” said Jan. “The hospital wing.”

  “Can you have the others rounded up?” I asked. “Quarantine them all.”

  “I’ll try,” said Jan. “The masters will see the sense in it. But out there....”

  Out there, in the city, it only took one event to feed all the rumors with exactly the fuel they’d thrive on.

  “Get up there,” I said to Christian. “Take the samples. I’ll clear the decks here. How bad is he?”

  The last sentence was addressed to Jan. “Sick,” said Jan. “High fever.”

  “Mariel,” I said, “try to bring his temperature down. Just do what you can to treat the symptoms. You can handle that?”

  She nodded, and left with Christian. I got busy at the bench.

  “How serious is it?” asked Jan.

  “I can’t tell,” I said. “It depends how long the disease has been incubating in his blood. If it’s just a delayed reaction and he caught it down south, maybe there’s no danger at all. But if he caught it near here...it all depends on how he caught it. If there’s a vector involved, there’s no immediate danger. If it can be transmitted from person to person...there could be a disaster.”