by Tim Dennis
"Yes, sir. Cow's milk? No, sir, please. No milk."
Krykowfert poured a little milk in one cup. He set the milk down and lifted the sugar bowl while eyeing Bento.
"A little." She numbly suggested.
Krykowfert shook some sugar into his own tea, then a little into Bento's, then a little more into his own. Preparations completed, he carried both into his office.
"Would you shut the door please?"
Bento did as asked and accepted her cup from Krykowfert. He sat down in his usual chair and indicated the other with a finger. Bento sat. Two false windows were open, both showing images of Eden. For two minutes she stared uncomfortably around the room, matching Krykowfert sip for sip until finally he put down his cup and activated a third f'window.
It showed a cut-away view of the ship she'd flown up in, revealing the three levels and internal machinery.
"How are you liking the new ships?" He asked.
"Very nice Sir." Nice?
"Finally! We've got gravity without having to fling the thing around in circles, eh?" He said. "Came out of the Eden project." He waved his arm at the other images.
"Yes, sir."
Krykowfert gulped down his tea and Bento reflexively did the same. He sniffed and looked directly at her. She almost dropped her cup.
"Well, I suppose it is time for business, eh?"
"These terrorist attacks are terrible sir." Bento offered.
"Yes yes. No one was killed. That is not why I invited you here Lieutenant."
"It's not sir?"
"It is outside my jurisdiction."
"Outside your jurisdiction, sir?" She didn't think anything was outside Krykowfert's jurisdiction.
"Yes, well, S.I. remains in my command, as does the Eden project. Which is why you are here. I'm transferring you to the Eden project."
"Again sir?"
Krykowfert paused with his empty cup over its saucer.
"What? Are you already on the Eden Project?"
"No Sir, it's just you transferred me from Construction to Liaison just a few days-"
"Ah! Yes, of course. Well, Tugot is back, he can take that over, it's more an Advocate's job anyway." Krykowfert waited for a response. Bento waited for more orders. "You'll be in good company on the Eden Project," he said. "You'll find most of the crews, like yourself, have been transferred recently from other duties." Krykowfert leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. "The Eden crews are hand-picked, the mission requires a certain type of individual you see."
"Type, sir?"
"People that have a vested interest in the Colony's future. Vested. Not a casual or selfish interest. People for whom the future of our society is more important than the present."
Bento let her hand cover her belly. Krykowfert noticed the motion and smiled that slightly devious, slightly mischievous look that involved eyes more than lips.
"You know of my list..." He said.
"Only rumors-"
"Come now, I know you've seen it. Security on Central Command is like a sieve." She continued to avoid his direct gaze. "It is a stressful task you will be asked to do, but all the same, I do not wish you to feel stress unduly. So I will tell you something, I will give you a promise." His manner demanded focus. Bento sat upright in her chair and looked at Krykowfert directly. "In your new role you will be required to compel certain citizens to take actions against their will. Actions for the good of the Colony, but not against their individual self-interest. You don't need to take my word on that; you will move to a billet on Eden where you will develop an understanding of the project that goes beyond the public perceptions. This understanding will inform decisions that you will be forced to make in-the-moment, so to speak, without consultation. Feric will monitor your activities, and if your choices need correction, she will give it."
Krykowfert allowed Bento time to think. With the lights low, they both sat, watching the silent Launch Rails do nothing. After what he felt was an appropriate interval, he rose from his seat and led Bento into the outer office.
"I must go now." He said. "The Council needs to blame me for the growing dissent on Legong. It appears my role is shifting, and right now my Colony needs a scapegoat more than a leader." He shook her hand and smiled that mischievous smile. Then the smile dropped away, replaced by the stern, public face of The Director. "You are free to decline my offer, and return to S.I. as a Construction Manager, I will not make the decision for you." He continued, without releasing her hand. "It will require you to make decisions for others, decisions that may affect the rest of their lives, irrevocable decisions. But this is a thing you will be doing soon anyway, eh?" His eyes briefly dropped to her belly. He released her hand and walked into the corridor.
Krykowfert stood in the shadowy Council Chamber, in the space between the conference table and the main entry doors, in the middle of images drawn from Myles's implant. Eight robed elder ladies stared in bewilderment.
There was no coherence to the recorded images, one moment Myles appeared as a teenager, an adult, a college student. Memories of mathematics and women sporadically snapped into focus; blurred, or faded, disappearing an instant later. Equations crossed the room on shapely legs while swatches of hair and skin and body parts mixed with mountains, diagrams of plate tectonics, and beer.
"Hasn't he ever dumped this thing?" Five asked in amazement.
Krykowfert let his disinterest show. "You have his records. He barely used it, it doesn't work for him."
Five sighed. Krykowfert stepped out from within the images and took a seat on the Councilor's side of the table.
"Go to the end," said Five. "Just go to the end and back up two days."
A Clerk spoke from the shadows, almost in a whisper. "I can't. It isn't sequentially arrayed."
"That's impossible." Five said. "It's a function of the implant."
One by one the Councilors looked to Krykowfert. He'd possessed the chip for over an hour, enough time to scramble its contents before handing it over to the Council, but he hadn't the need to. "You have his medical records." He said. "You can see the reports from every service call, every failed connection." Still he was eyed with suspicion. "If it wasn't for me you wouldn't even have the implant. It wasn't I who let him leave Central Command without a proper debrief. What do Norte's recorders show?"
"It's as scrambled as this damn implant." Five showed a frustration that normally would be kept hidden. "It runs up to the theft of the surface vehicle, then just stops."
"Right," said Krykowfert. "On to other matters. This Rip Six has opened to Earth, it's not meant to be sustained like that. It must be closed, or at least minimized, when not actually engaged in the passage of ships."
"We're gathering data through the Rip," said Councilor Three. "Closing it would leave us in the dark."
Five held up a hand. "The Council wishes to know what you're doing about the terrorists."
"Nothing." Krykowfert said.
"Surface Infrastructure is your responsibility!" Said Councilor Eight.
The images from Myles's implant were replaced by a procession of damaged Launch Rails.
"Right now all S.I. troops on Legong are busy installing Close-in defenses to compensate for the depletion of orbital crews." Krykowfert looked around the room. "Where is Six?"
"Bring crews in from the outer system Diverter Fleet if you have to." Added Seven. "This is a responsibility of Shield Guard."
"No it is not. Shield Guard is not a police force and there are no troops available. Six has taken all troops currently on leave and called up the reserves into the Council Guard. She's drained the colleges of teachers and students, practically shut down luxury goods production - a segment which, in case you haven't read the briefs, is responsible for almost all our economic growth. I. Have. No. Troops."
Five again raised a hand and stopped the growing discord. "Council Guard has already taken control of most of the affected settlements. Our presence on the surface has calmed the population and the incidents have
stopped."
"The incidents have stopped because they've run out of Launch Rails to disable!" Krykowfert was losing his patience. He held up one hand to the room and pressed his other on the table. "There have been no causalities, only property damage. I suggest you NOT apply pressure. This will either fade away or a leader will emerge. At that point you can talk, see if there is a real issue here or if it is simply a series of crimes. But with the forces you have left me, well, there are many holes in the dike and I am all out of fingers."
"But if you are so stretched, how will we rebuild the Launch Rails?" Asked Eight.
"You don't." Said Krykowfert.
"What do you mean?" Asked Five.
"You have Rail-Ships in orbit and plenty of the new Drop-Capsules. For Farm-Ark resupply you have the larger Excursion Craft." In the darkness of their hooded robes Krykowfert could feel eyes turn away from him. "You do have Rail-Ships, Drops and Excursions..? You requisitioned most of the first production run." Still no Councilor would look his way. "Where the hell is Six?"
Councilor Six's Drop-Bunker/Mission-Control, now paired with a second Bunker, swung slowly in space high above the ecliptic. A dozen Makerbots, commandeered from Krykowfert's S.I. Division, clamored over the giant, skinny dumbbell, reinforcing the structure as they ate away at small asteroids tossed to them from inner-system Destroyers far below in Legong Orbit. The tumbling dumbbell provided Six with about a half-g, enough to keep her feet on the deck, not so much that it complicated the docking of a ship.
"Anything?" She asked.
Pestano sat across from her in the small private conference room off Mission Control. "Earth is saying we must discuss this with their Agent on Central Command."
"Send in more ships." Six ordered.
Pestano consulted his implant and relayed the inventory to Six. "Half of Council Guard has been recalled to the surface to deal with the Launch Rail crises. We pushed through two Rail-Ships, they're remaining near the Earth-side of the Rip, and seven Liaison/Execs are in or near Earth orbit. About the Rip..." Pestano tried to read Six's mood before continuing. "It is requiring a great deal of energy to keep stable, it would be a benefit if we could allow it to shrink, perhaps a little."
Six sat back and thought. She'd heard this message from so many different people, on so many different occasions, that she was beginning to accept its truth. "Expand it."
Pestano looked at her in shock.
"Set up a mass-relay," she said, "something to shuttle bismuth from the Legong-chain through the Rip. And call in more Makerbots. We'll move the whole operation into Earth space. Then you can shrink the Rip."
33
Gabrile, Chanly, Gwirionedd and Sach sat around the low glass-topped table in the lanai, staring intensely. A dozen little balls emitted images of Legong craft, popping one after another through the Rip into Earth space. Gabrile stood and looked out at the two-toned, chromed coffins sitting in the gardens. The green plants and colorful flowers were already showing signs of neglect in Nafasi's absence.
"No one could have anticipated that reaction." Said Sach, standing behind her.
"Beasts!" Gabrile barked. "No, worse than beasts. Animals don't attack like that, without threat or motivation."
"It was fear." Said Trendle, coming in from the gardens.
"Fear?" Ask Gabrile. "What have we done to make them fear us?"
Sach, sitting with Chanly on the sofa, put forward her own theory. "Fear seems to be a natural state for them. Either they're born with it, or they develop it early in life, perhaps even before they develop language." Then, remembering the example of the color threads from earlier: "It wouldn't surprise me if we were to find that the trait varies with the neurological variations ToEv reported."
They all took time to consider this new point of view. The images of Rip and ships now gone, Gwirionedd used the silent moment to meditate on this new problem. "We've made all the data available," she said. "Consensus is forming rapidly."
They all returned to the table and waited for Gabrile to speak.
"OK. We'll restrict them to orbit. ToEv will be back soon. His direct experience should inform our next course of action."
34
Traveler brought Bento back to Legong with him, her last Liaison duty being to get him safely in and out of Lumber Glenn, where Myles would meet them and take over. The meet-and-greet here took place in an enormous theater with the local movers-and-shakers seated on stage beside Traveler. It fit the political needs, but Traveler wanted to meet ordinary Legongs, so after the required time on the dais he and Bento hit the streets, finally settling into a dark booth in the back corner of the Screamin' Bull Tavern.
It was impossible for Traveler to go anywhere incognito, and they'd been recognized as soon as they entered. Those already in the bar filtered over to eavesdrop. Bento knew the complexities of Legongians' feelings towards Earth. She tried catching Traveler's eye, but he carefully avoided her. A hard-looking fat man and his improbably attractive, and young, female companion sat themselves down without invitation, doing their best to provide value.
"You could use the big ball-ship of yours to hop the mountains," said the fat man. The few long fine hairs still attached to his head shifted in the breeze of the passing waitress. "Or you could skip it altogether. They're a bunch of Colonists in Pickled Flats."
"But you are all Colonists." Traveler said.
The young woman tried to explain. "You know, Colonists. They don't give a damn about what we've accomplished here on Legong, they're opportunists, ready to pull up stakes and move anywhere the Council sends them."
Bento gave up trying to save Traveler from himself and slouched back in her chair. Catching the next waitress, she ordered a drink, then called the waitress back to change 'drink' to 'juice.'
"Do you mean Eden?" Traveler asked.
The fat man rose to the bait. "Eden! Phf! They've been so smug since it was announced. The only thing worse than a bunch of fable-spouting religious freaks is religious freaks with a map. And Krykowfert's golden chariots. Promised land. Pft."
"So you see Krykowfert as a religious fanatic?" Asked Traveler. The quiet murmur of the crowd silenced. Most looked down at their drinks. Traveler changed tack "You wish to stay on Legong? Despite the precarious nature of the colony here?"
The young woman answered. "This is our home," she said, getting it in before the fat man took over. "We were born here. We like Legong, we not leaving."
"That's just because no-one asked you yet!" A third voice chimed in, a man, about the same age as the young woman. "Face it, this planet is the galaxy's dart board."
Someone must have sent out an implant-broadcast. The bar, half empty when they arrived, was full to capacity and those too far away to eavesdrop entered into private debates inspired by comments daisy-chained back to them through the crowd. As Bento watched, the group split into 'Legongs' and 'Colonists,' the Colonists split into 'Anywhere but heres' and 'Eden-onlys' and the Eden-onlys split into Religious and Histo-Scientific factions. She'd never known a single topic to lead to such divisions. She began to understand where Mallick had come from, or at least how easy it had been for him to stir up the population.
The drink flowed and the debates continued. Traveler seemed to be enjoying it, encouraging it even, but the crush of strangers made Bento claustrophobic, and the tenor of the conversation began to concern her. Disagreements were turning into arguments. It was time to leave. She stood and turned so everyone could see her new Shield Guard Uniform and rank. The sea parted but before she could move Myles popped through, having made his way from the front of the bar.
"Thanks!" He said.
Bento felt a rush of conflicting emotions. Myles's appearance marked the end of her association with Traveler, which brought relief, but it also meant they wouldn't be getting out of the bar quite yet.
"Have a nice visit with your folks?" She asked.
Myles shrugged and frowned. "Yeah. A lot to process, not sure they really understood."
"I'm sorry to interrupt." He said. "I've got to speak to Traveler. Privately." Myles quickly added "Council business." and just as quickly regretted it. Faced with a Shield Guard insignia and an Advocate's proclamations, the locals slowly dispersed. Myles sat down with Traveler, Bento rejoined them.
"Have you given any thought to my suggestion?" Myles asked.
"I cannot speak for all Earth, Myles." Said Traveler.
"What are you talking about?" Asked Bento.
"But what do you think?" Myles asked.
There followed a long silence. Both Myles and Bento watched Traveler struggling with how to word whatever it was he was about to say. No his usual reaction. When it finally came, both were disappointed.
"I believe it is time for me to leave Legong."
Another pause.
"Now?" Myles asked.
"Yes. I believe it will be the least disruptive time for me to do so. Your Council is occupied with the growing unrest, Director Krykowfert has his Eden Rip in place and I've met a broad spectrum of Legongs. Yes. It is time."
Traveler spoke with such firm finality that Myles and Bento expected him to rise at that moment and exit the bar. Instead, he sipped from his glass and relaxed in his chair.
"I'm going with you." Said Myles.
"What?" said Bento.
"There will have to be some sort of exchange, some mission between our worlds. I'm an Advocate, I'm trained. I'm going."
"I don't believe Earth wishes to maintain contact." Traveler said.
Bento looked back and forth between the two men, amazed at the nonsense blubbering out of both of them. The crowd had closed back in around them. Myles and Bento didn't notice, Traveler didn't care.
"What do you mean?" Myles and Bento asked together.
"The diasporas are even more distant a memory on Earth than here on Legong. Our worlds share little more than pre-history. We are different peoples, separated by hundreds of years of changes. As individuals, I am sure each of you would be welcome, but as a world... We're just not compatible. We've evolved along different paths."