Murphy's Lawless: A Terran Republic Novel

by Charles E. Gannon

  Anseker shrugged. “There is wisdom in that, too, I suppose. At any rate, we are prepared to begin, if you are prepared to bear witness.”

  Murphy nodded, went into the small, glass-sided pressure module to the left of the large hatch that led into what was usually an airlock. Once inside the module, he sat in the last empty chair. The other four seats were filled by three Primae of other Expansionist Families and one Sko’Belm of a Family which had been non-aligned prior to last week’s violence, but which the Hardliners had decapitated in an excess of preemptive caution. They faced the chair in which the prisoner—Dolkar Kormak— waited and behind whom an outer airlock hatch loomed large and ominous.

  A middle-aged woman entered the airlock-courtroom and exchanged highly formal bows with Anseker. He turned toward the small habitation module. “Be aware that the closest to she who was Primus when the alleged treachery occurred is now here to confer punishment or forgiveness, as is the ancient rite and duty of Breedmistresses. Guild-mother Shumrir hears the Statement of the accused with one ear alert to the call of justice, the other attentive to the needs of our community.”

  Murphy tried to remember what Lee had told him before she had returned dirtside. Breedmistresses were those women who used whatever weird powers some of them supposedly possessed for predicting the best genetic pairings between different Families and breedlines. Guild-mothers were an executive council of the most senior and/or accomplished among them. A Matriarch was a rare creature indeed, a title conferred upon a Family Guild-mother when she was also promoted to become its Primus. Which explained why Family Otlethes had taken Matriarch Kelrevis’ loss like a body-blow: that much leadership and authority concentrated in one person produced a singular spasm of panic and uncertainty when they were lost without warning.

  Shumrir bowed low to the gallery in which Murphy sat and then motioned to a smaller hatch opposite the one through which she had entered. It opened and a figure in a black hood and red robes stepped within. A sizeable curved dagger was scabbarded on—his? her?—belt. The smaller hatch closed.

  Shumrir pointed at the newcomer. “Behold the Guarantor, oh you Aggrieved,” she proclaimed in the kind of droning tone that Murphy associated with ritual. She faced the gallery directly. “If you find fault with the allegations or the preparations made here for the Statement, it must be spoken now.”

  She waited. No one made a sound.

  Anseker shouted. “So begins the Statement of Dolkar Kormak in answer to the allegations.”

  Shumrir turned to face the deposed Primus. “Your deeds are not in dispute.”

  Kormak echoed her proudly. “My deeds are not in dispute.”

  “Then share your Statement, that we may know why you felt it necessary to act in violation of your troth with the Aggrieved.”

  Kormak faced the gallery. “Imprimis to the Aggrieved: had we become known to R’Baku beyond those few whom we visit near the poles, the whole planet would have had word of us. Accounts of our comings and goings would become commonplace and specific. We would cease to be dismissed as the stuff of myth or wild legends.

  “Such word would ultimately have spread to the Harvesters of Kulsis, and that would have been the end of our existence. For the Overlords will brook no rivals, no challenges to their dominion.”

  Anseker spoke without looking at him. “Points you made during the discussions among all Primae when we were compelled to decide how to manage the aftermath of the battle whereby the Terrans unwittingly revealed our existence.”

  “Yes,” Kormak agreed, “discussions in which consensus had to be reached swiftly. It did not afford us the opportunity to cleave to the Death Fathers’ axiom, ‘Plumb any pool into which you would dive.’” He looked at the faces in the gallery but avoided Murphy’s. “Time revealed the problems with that hasty decision, as time often does. Advocates of the extremist delusion that we might somehow accrue enough power to resist the might of Kulsis and exist unhidden were empowered to become policy makers. I remind you of the objectives upon which our coalition with each other—and alliance with the Terrans—were founded and approved: that we should take action to eliminate any spoor, evidence, or report suggesting that the loss of the Kulsian ships might be the work of an unseen force such as ourselves.

  “But each further step to achieve that necessitated other, further steps. Instead, we could have resorted to the simplest solution, which we proposed at the outset: a plague. That would have wiped out any credible persons or records that might have made report of us. It would also have been a reasonable explanation for the loss of the Kulsian’s ships through infection carried up from the planet.”

  Anseker frowned. “A solution which was also likely to wipe out all human life upon R’Bak, or at least enough to destroy our only source of essential biological products, and so, our future survival.”

  “An unproven outcome.”

  “Unprovable, I think you mean. However, the point is moot. The option was considered and rejected during our initial discussion.”

  “Not so. It was tabled.”

  “It was, and it was to be left so until and unless our planetary campaign showed no hope of eliminating the transmitter. Yet two such plans continue forward. And because of that, we have no reason or justification to risk our own probable extinction or the near-certainty of the death of all the R’Baku.”

  Kormak gestured toward Anseker as he turned to face the gallery. “And here, in the mouth of the Voice of the Aggrieved, we hear the same irresolute words that make us undeserving heirs of the Death Fathers’ wisdom: he avers that we should concern ourselves with the survival of the R’Baku.” Kormak glowered. “They are lesser beings. Their fate concerns ours only insofar as their presence or absence increases our chance of survival, of attaining dominion. Do you, the other Aggrieved, accept your Voice’s words as representing your will in this, as well?”

  Murphy managed not to blink at Kormak’s casual embrace of genocide. He knew the SpinDogs were pretty ruthless, but to hear so extreme an expression of it, invoked as a presumably shared value, sent a shiver down his spine.

  No one in the module spoke or reacted.

  Anseker did not bother to look at Kormak. “If you have no argument that disproves the proposition that the death of the R’Baku would eventually bring about our own, then the reasons we chose for our present course remain valid. In consequence, your breaking of troths was unwarranted by a change in the bases of our joint decision.”

  “As if the Kulsians were the only threat to us.”

  It was Shumrir who turned to face the deposed Primus. “You confirmed that your deeds are not in dispute. The matter is constrained to them.”

  But Kormak was facing the gallery now, his eyes roving across all the faces. Except, again, Murphy’s, whose left hand had started shaking; he tucked it tight against his leg.

  “The farther down this path we go, and the more we must bend our industries and society to these ‘missions,’ the more orders the newcomers give, the more authority they acquire and exert.

  “Do you not see it? Do you not see that the greatest threat is not from Kulsis but from them?” He jabbed a finger at Murphy. “They have brought war to the very core of our culture. They tempt the soft-headed and soft-hearted with the promise of new technologies, and in so doing, inveigle the susceptible to emulate their own values, their own decadent notions of fawning compassion, of mercy for the weak that must and should die. It is not only the wisdom of the Death Fathers; it is the self-evident law of nature. Yet they have found willing converts in the form of radicals—radicals who call themselves Expansionists, but in fact are something far more dangerous. They are cultural traitors. So, it was our determination that we had to fight both enemies—exposure to Kulsis’ might and exposure to the Terrans’ insidious ways—at the same time.”

  Shumrir stood before Kormak. “Your rhetoric is certainly stirring. But you leave out one important fact: that you have long desired our fall.”

  “We have
long wanted to maintain our independence.”

  “That is a polite way of saying that you are culturally averse to any unnecessary coordination with Expansionist families, just as you frown upon any unions that are not necessitated by genetic considerations.”

  Kormak bristled. “That is because your ways are idiotic.”

  Shumrir smiled. “And here we see that your breaking of troths was not compelled by new and pertinent needs. Rather, current conditions provided an excuse to pursue a very old agenda: the elimination of us and our ways.”

  Kormak howled at her. “Because they will be our death! They dull your senses and sap your will so profoundly that you embrace the even greater idiocies of the Terrans. All of which defies the wisdom of the Death Fathers and invites their wrath.”

  “The Death Fathers are not magical.”

  “Indeed they are not, yet you doubt their powers. How absurd, when you—of all people—know that the powers of Reification are not magic, either.” At the word “reification,” Shumrir stiffened. Kormak frowned, confused, then his eyes flicked toward Murphy before sharply returning to the Guild-mother. “You—you haven’t told them? Not even him?”

  Shumrir shook her head. “In that outburst, it is you who demonstrate the lack of self-discipline that the Death Fathers warn against as the greatest weakness.”

  “And you tolerate the weak. You negotiate instead of dominate.”

  Shumrir nodded. “My sister, Kelrevis, saw the value of a balance between those two different approaches, hoped to preserve both truths by working to preserve both sides. She, like so many previous leaders, strove to coexist with your faction, so that each side’s strengths might temper the other’s weaknesses.” She sighed. “But now you have taken steps that have pushed conditions past that point. Those among us who have long argued against that coexistence will now rightly say that you have acted exactly as their worst fears foretold.”

  Seeing Shumrir approaching the control panel on the bulkhead closest to her, sweat beaded on Kormak’s brow. “The problem was not between us, but because of them! They convinced you to—”

  “We know better than that,” Shumrir interrupted quietly but firmly. “Arko Primus Zobulakos of Spin Two told us of your intention to eliminate most of us and diffuse our Families by dispersing the survivors into your own. He also confirmed that this is not a new strategy, but that it has been your goal for almost a century. So recent events simply hastened the inevitable.”

  “And now you will send me into the void?”

  Shumrir shook her head. “You are right that we lack your single-minded pursuit of dominion. We also lack your flair for the dramatic and for grand gestures. No, you shall not be spaced.”

  “I…I won’t?”

  “No,” Shumrir said, pressing a different stud on the panel. The smaller hatch at the other end of the room opened again and two large men in black robes entered “Spacing is wasteful, and we are prudent. Your water and proteins shall serve us well.”

  Dolkar Kormak was removed, spitting and cursing and shaking.

  Shumrir glanced at Murphy. “About that word you heard: Reification. You are not to ask us about it.” He discovered all the witnesses in the gallery were watching him. “It would put our alliance in great jeopardy,” Shumrir concluded.

  Murphy shrugged. “I can live with that.” For now. “But about Kormak. He will be…euthanized before you, uh…?”

  “Before we harvest the consumables from him? Of course.” Shumrir shrugged. “We are not barbarians, after all.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Spin One

  Murphy did not go back to the CP after the Statement. He told Makarov to man the desk in his place and headed back to his quarters. Once there, he told Max he was racking early and sent the frowning bodyguard on his way. Murphy managed to maintain a casual pace as he entered his stateroom.

  The moment he was inside, his left hand started quaking again. He clutched it, as if that might stop the tremors.

  The door paged. Oh, for the love of…”Hello?”

  “Major Murphy, it is I.”

  A female voice. Now, who the hell was—?

  “It is Nyalriz. We have met in passing.”

  Huh? He tapped in the code that unlocked the hatch. “Come in, doctor.”

  Naliryiz entered, looking around as she did; Murphy couldn’t tell if her corner-glancing was the result of curiosity or caution. Maybe both.

  Murphy gestured to a chair, went to his own, waited until she sat. Which seemed to confuse her.

  She leaned forward. “I have been formally asked by Anseker, Primus Otlethes, to assure you that Captain Bowden’s attack plans have not been jeopardized by our recent internecine strife. All the necessary equipment had already been replicated and is now under our control. We hope that further replication needs can be handled by the Family Kormak technicians which had already been tasked with the project or by our own, who are studying the schematics even now. However, there were many casualties within Family Kormak, particularly among the replication teams.”

  “I wasn’t under the impression that the battle for control went on for so long.”

  “It did not. We did not inflict the casualties among their technicians. That was the result of in-family resistance to the late Primus’s move against us. Those most involved with expediting your efforts on the surface of R’Bak felt his policy was ill-advised and rose up against him.” Her shrug mixed regret with resignation. “The Family is still in disarray, particularly its replication facilities.”

  “When will they choose a new Primus?”

  “Relatively soon, I suspect. We will not exert any influence on that process, but their decision will be subject to our approval.” She studied Murphy carefully. “You are concerned.”

  Murphy nodded. “We need fast replication of key weapons and vehicles to adequately support our plans for a ground attack against the transmitter. It doesn’t sound like that’s going to happen.”

  Naliryiz frowned, shook her head. “I am not able to speak to that with authority, but I suspect your conjecture is correct. Since all your replication needs were single-sourced, it will be difficult to restore production quickly.” She folded her hands. “I should add that Anseker regretted he could not address these matters before today’s Statement. He was grateful for your perception that it would have been improper to mix such business with the resolution of Primus Kormak’s Statement.”

  “He has no need to thank me,” Murphy answered with a dismissive wave of his right hand. And that’s no exaggeration. If Lee hadn’t clued me in on the Statement and how to behave, I’m sure I would have put my foot in it.

  Naliryiz nodded but did not make any movement to leave. Her eyes did not leave his.

  Uh oh. “There is another matter you wish to discuss?”

  “Yes. In fact, it is the real reason I came.” She glanced at his left hand, which chose that moment to tremble again.

  “Nerve damage,” he almost-lied.

  “So to speak,” she replied with a grim smile.

  “It’s nothing. A little fatigue. That’s all.”

  She nodded slowly. “Exactly what a Sko’Belm would say. Has to say. Particularly the leader of a small group that is so vulnerable, and yet valuable, that its hosts seem to be unable to decide how it should be treated. Whether it should be made safe and secure—”

  “—Or sent out an airlock. Yeah, I get it. I assure you, the Statement didn’t leave much to the imagination.”

  She smiled. “I suppose it did not. Hopefully, there will not be another such occasion for you to attend. I doubt there shall be.”

  Murphy nodded. “When you guys clean house, you sure are thorough.”

  “If you mean that we give little if any quarter to our adversaries, that is true. Regrettably so, sometimes. But I am in a distinct minority, even among Expansionists, holding such an opinion. But they tolerate it in me because I am a healer. They presume those of my profes
sion to be less…resolute.”

  “Are you?”

  She stared at him, not angered but surprised. “So direct.” She smiled. “So welcome. No, I am not less resolute, but I see a different path to accomplish what we must. A path that makes tools of patience and compassion, rather than presumes them to be weaknesses.” She nodded at his hand. “There are those that would see that as an opportunity to overthrow you, sooner or later. To gain commanding influence over your people. Assuming any would accept their dominion.”

  “Yeah, good luck with that.”

  Her smile dimmed. “It would not be so easy as the most opportunistic of my people suspect, but neither would it be so futile as you think. Your men, and women, listen to their hearts. In the hands of unscrupulous adversaries, that can be a source of considerable leverage.”

  “Also considerable strength.”

  She nodded. “My opinion precisely. Which is why, although my medical skills are prized, my counsel is ignored.”

  “Even by the late Matriarch?”

  Naliryiz sighed. “No. She was different. It was fortunate you arrived here when you did, or things would not have gone so well.”

  A laugh barked out of Murphy’s throat before he was aware it was imminent. “You call our experiences since arriving here an example of a new relationship ‘going well’? From the start, there’s been secrecy, misinformation, and maneuvering over the replication. Which could have undone us. Still could.”

  She nodded. “And yet, that was the price of having you among us.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Do you think the Hardliners are the only ones with such high replication capability? Do you think the rest of us would remain free of their yoke if we didn’t have an equal measure? No.” She shook her head. “Accepting you among us was a trade, proposed and driven home by the late Matriarch.”

  Murphy nodded slowly, felt incredibly stupid not having seen it before. “If the Hardliners were to agree to having us among you, then they insisted on having oversight of replication and supply. They had to be in a position to exert a chokehold on us at a moment’s notice. I can’t believe I didn’t put that together earlier.”