Child of Earth

by David Gerrold

  When Byrne told us that last part, an audible gasp swept through the auditorium. Her words shocked us. It was like what Gampa said about a bucket of cold water in the face. It wakes you up. Well, we were definitely awake. What dismayed us the most, I think, was the terrible realization that somebody who had gone through the same rigorous training as the rest of us had betrayed his silence and put everybody else at risk. We couldn’t believe it.

  Byrne said that most of the stories she’d heard were told as fantasies for children—too outlandish for the Church to consider them “evil mischief.” But lately, some Linneans had begun warning their children that the unreal-folk of Oerth were roaming the land, looking to steal the souls of good Linneans. And even more lately, some folk had begun wondering aloud where such stories had come from and what they really meant....

  THE MAN WITH THE SILVER EARRING

  THEN BYRNE RELINQUISHED THE PODIUM to the Man with the Silver Earring. He ignored the lectern and started talking even before he got to the center of the stage. He was just as brusque as ever. “We’ve known about these rumors for several months now. They seem to have started in the west and traveled east with returning caravans. Because the Linneans have a great deal of curiosity about what lies in the unknown regions of their continent, any story—no matter how outlandish—gets repeated endlessly.

  “Now, the Linneans don’t believe all the fabulous tales of Oerth, but many of them do believe that a great and prosperous land lies beyond the western mountains—and some Linneans believe that the Oerth-folk will work evil mischief to keep honest folk from finding them. They talk of a secret pass through the mountains, which they call the gateway to Oerth. We know of several Linnean explorers who have announced their intentions to search for that gateway.”

  Earring continued, “You all know that we’ve had families disappear. Perhaps the stories started with them. Maybe bandits or hostiles captured one of those lost families. Perhaps the family tried to bargain its way to freedom. The other possibility...” He rubbed his nose distastefully. “We suspect that the families that disappeared ... may have vanished deliberately—that they intended all along to colonize Linnea at cross-purposes to the Gate Authority’s goals. If so, they have put us all at danger.”

  Earring held out a hand to silence the cries of horror and anger, but for a moment, everyone was too upset to calm down. A lot of hands went up then; some people stood up and shouted for attention. Earring just stood his ground, looking from face to face with those dark eyes of his, and after a moment, people began sitting down again.

  Everyone but Da-Lorrin. He remained standing even after Earring turned to glower at him. “Maybe I don’t know how to ask this correctly,” Lorrin said slowly. “The Linneans have only mysterious tales, no real evidence. Ignorance always breeds distrust. It seems to me that if they actually encountered one of the Oerth-folk, they might have so much curiosity about Oerth and how to get here that they would treat any Oerth-person as an important emissary.”

  “We had always hoped for that,” said Earring. “It doesn’t seem to have worked that way.”

  “How do you know this?” Da-Lorrin challenged.

  Earring hesitated, but Administor Rance spoke up from the side of the stage. “Go ahead and tell them.”

  He looked to her, unhappily. She nodded curtly. A whole conversation passed between them in that instant. Earring turned back to the rest of us, and when he spoke, his voice had gone more sour than ever. “The Linneans hold Administor Rance’s son, Jaxin, and three other scouts as prisoners in the Callo City confinement. Someone identified them as Oerth-folk the day they arrived in the city. We don’t know who made the identification. We don’t know how or why.

  “We do have contact with the scouts. They have monitors in their shoes and belts, and in the buttons on their clothing, so we know that they remain safe for the moment. We have two other teams in the city, undiscovered and observing from a safe distance, and they have confirmed this information. And we have a chain of spybirds keeping the channels open, so we have near-instantaneous communication. We have a pretty good sense of the situation in Callo City.

  “Apparently, a panic has swept the city. The city administors don’t know what to do. They’ve sent a petition for an Inquiry by a High Church Council—not a trial, but an Inquiry. To determine the intentions of the Oerth-men. I should point out here that the Linneans do not consider maiz-likka human, so the Church restrictions on torture do not apply.”

  He held up his hands for silence and pushed on, raising his voice to be heard above the rising shouts. “If the High Council accepts the petition, they will travel to Callo City and convene an Inquiry. If they reject the petitions, then we don’t know what will happen. All kinds of speculations have circulated. We fear that our scouts will lose all protection against the frightened crowds—so we hope that the Council will accept the petition. Considering the significance of the matter, acceptance of the petition seems the most likely course of action. We expect the Council members to send word back to Callo City as quickly as possible, and then follow on themselves a few days later. We estimate travel time will take at least twelve days, probably more. It depends on the weather and the rail conditions.”

  Someone called out. “What crime will they charge the scouts with—?”

  “No crimes,” said Earring. “Remember how the Linneans think. Only humans commit crimes. To commit a crime, you have to know the difference between good and evil; knowing the difference, you still choose evil; that defines a crime—only humans can know the difference, so only humans can commit crimes. Maiz-likka, on the other hand, cannot know the difference. By definition, they come from evil, they only know evil, so they can only do evil. Choice plays no part in their actions. They come from the dark between the stars, not from the Mother—they hate the Mother. Therefore the maiz-likka and all who practice maizlish ways can expect no mercy, only the full wrath of the Mother’s children....”

  The Man with the Silver Earring paused a moment to let us consider what that might mean. For a peaceful religion, the Linneans had demonstrated some horrendous ways of keeping the peace. Apparently the Mother’s love was only a stone’s throw away for some of these folks.

  Earring sucked in his cheek unhappily, and continued. “So the Council will investigate—with whatever tools they think appropriate. They will investigate as thoroughly as they can. They will continue the Inquiry for as long as it takes, until they can determine once and for all if the prisoners have truly come from Oerth. If the strangers do have magick abilities, then that will probably serve as proof that the Oerth-people have maizlish intentions....”

  “What will they do to the scouts?”

  Earring shrugged. “We don’t know. The Linnean Church has acted badly in the past. They may do so again. Historical precedent carries enormous weight. So does fear. But maybe not in this case. Despite the superstitions of the Linneans, we like to believe that reason will prevail. These people have good souls. I know them. Not all of them go crazy with madness at every wild rumor. Given enough time, their natural skepticism of the outrageous may outweigh their fear of strangers.”

  “And the bad news—?” called someone from behind us. I didn’t recognize the voice.

  Earring scratched at his nose, as if he were considering his next thought with distaste. “At the moment, the scouts remain in custody. As long as that confinement continues, they’ll stay safe. But we don’t know how much time we have. And if the situation turns dangerous, we cannot protect them, because we cannot extract them from the middle of the city. It would take an armed regiment, and the Gate Authority won’t allow that. Even a smaller effort carries risks. The Agency remains adamant that we not perturb the Linnean culture. A disturbance would likely produce unpredictable consequences; so we have to keep ourselves effectively invisible. The Charter—and our own oaths—limit our ability to proceed.

  “Understand,” Earring continued. “If the High Council determines any tangibility of ma
gick in the scouts, it will represent a major shift in their theology from a faith-based system to an empirical one. It would dramatically change the worldview of the entire society, and not for the better. Dogma generates toxicity. We’ve seen it in our own history. This kind of incident will trigger ripples of shock that can reverberate throughout a society for decades—or even centuries. No question, but the people of Linnea will have violent reactions as they attempt to assimilate this new information about their world. They will not accept it easily.

  “In its own way, the High Council knows this. Every political institution has survival as its first priority. The churchmen will realize the potential for cultural disruption here and the corresponding necessity of preserving their authority. So the possibility exists for a resolution within the Linnean context. Perhaps the Inquiry will acquit our scouts—”

  “And the bad news?” the voice behind me called again.

  “That doesn’t appear likely. Our scouts do not have registered identities. Their papers will pass close examination, but any serious investigation of their invented histories will turn up little supporting evidence. And that may prove damning. If the Council determines that our scouts have indeed come from Oerth, then they have to declare them nonhuman—outside of the protection of Linnean law; not good for our scouts. But that leaves them with the dilemma of a tangible world of magick on the other side of the mountain. To avoid that, they could rule our scouts human. But then they’d still have to have to determine the identities of our scouts and if they intend to commit ‘evil mischief.’ Without records, they’ll have to assume that the scouts came to Callo City as outlaws. And if they discover that they have no past in their world, that would certainly prove it. With either of these outcomes, the scouts can expect dire consequences.”

  “What do you mean by ‘dire consequences’?” someone shouted. The room was getting unruly.

  “If the Council decides that our scouts represent a threat to the souls of Linneans they will, in all likelihood, authorize a public execution. Despite their traditional sanctions against such horrors, they have in the past made exceptions for cases of extreme significance. If we can believe the reports, this appears such a case, and the risk of execution does exist.”

  Earring ignored the rising chorus of shouts. Despite the fact that he wore no apparent microphone, his voice carried over everything. “Understand this: if we act in the defense of our scouts, we call even more attention to ourselves. And that puts even more people at risk—everyone we have on the other side! Anything we do on behalf of Jaxin and the others will affect them. Every stranger will find himself under increased suspicion.”

  And that’s when Administor Rance interrupted. She came up to stand beside Earring, waving futilely for silence. When at last the room had quieted enough for her to speak, she said simply, “I have to inform you that under the present state of our charter with the Gate Authority, we cannot do anything but observe.”

  That brought nearly everyone in the room to his or her feet, shouting and clamoring for attention.

  Administor Rance held her hands up wide. The gesture said, “Please wait. I have more.” It took a moment, but eventually the room did quiet down. “We did not summon you here to incite you to riot. We called you here tonight only to inform you of the gravity of the situation, so that you could understand the world that you have trained for. We cannot allow any talk of military action, lest we endanger our charter status. You may choose to accept this ... or not.

  “You will find me in my office all day tomorrow. If you wish to resign from this program, you may do so without penalty.” She rang her bell. “I now adjourn this session.”

  And then she exited from the stage and the auditorium just like she always did; but this time I thought I saw her wiping her eye just before she passed out the side door.

  THE MEETING THAT DIDN’T HAPPEN

  AFTER A MOMENT OF CONFUSION, people started to leave. I got up too; so did Mom-Woo, but Da-Lorrin put his hand on her arm and said, “Wait.” She sat back down again.

  “Huh—?” I started to ask, but Lorrin leaned across and said, “Shh. Sit down, Kaer.” So I did. Obviously, something was up.

  We weren’t the only ones staying in our seats. At least half a dozen other families waited patiently while everyone else filed out. I noticed that the Kellys weren’t among them; they were already heading for the tractor-bus. Most of the families who stayed were long-time trainees, but not all. The ones I knew were all folks who had high work-scores and were considered good candidates for crossover.

  The Man with the Silver Earring waited patiently on the stage, watching people exit. Several folks approached him and tried to engage him in conversation, but he just shook his head. It looked like he was saying, “Administor Rance has given you the official position. I support her totally.” He had to say that quite a few times, but finally the last of the crowd filtered out.

  He waited until the doors were closed—and locked. I looked back and saw that there was a scout by each door. Earring glanced quickly around the room, as if counting us off on an invisible list. Satisfied, he said, “Please move forward and fill up the front rows.” His voice sounded different now.

  When we had all taken our new seats, he continued. “Anything that gets said in this room must stay in this room. Officially, this meeting didn’t happen. Does everybody understand that? Anyone not willing to abide by these conditions?” He glanced around. “No? Good.”

  He took a deep breath. For a moment, he seemed almost human. “Despite the restrictions of the Charter,” he said, “we do intend to mount a rescue operation. We’ve applied for an exemption and we expect to have it signed by morning. So we will proceed with our preparations on the expectation of authorization. But whether or not we get that exemption, we will proceed. Legally or not.

  “We have armed scouts crossing over tomorrow morning. We’ve sent three choppers through the gate, fully loaded with nonlethal weaponry. We have a team of twelve prepared to make an assault on the prison where the Linneans hold our scouts. We have little hope for a peaceful outcome. We expect to act—and we will prepare as fully as we can.

  “Our observers on the scene report that the Linneans have posted at least twenty guards, all armed with crossbows. They look like experienced military men, so it doesn’t look good for a frontal assault. And besides, the Charter mandates that we take no lives ... unless absolutely necessary. We would all prefer that such ‘necessity’ does not arise. So we have to consider all of our options. Whatever we do on the other side, we expect enormous repercussions. Both here and there.”

  “You’ll need more than twelve scouts,” said Da-Lorrin, in his sergeant’s voice. “Where can I volunteer?” Immediately, five other men stood up too.

  Earring waved them back down. “If we cannot do it with twelve, we cannot do it with twelve hundred—”

  “Some of us have military experience,” said Lorrin. “Have your scouts ever seen actual combat?”

  “Some. Not all.”

  “I repeat my request,” said Lorrin. “You need me. Us,” he corrected.

  “We appreciate the offer, but—”

  “If you didn’t want us to volunteer, then why this meeting?”

  “We do need volunteers, but not for military action. We think the scouts should handle that part, but we need on-site monitors and support teams.”

  Lorrin shook his head. I knew that shake. That was the “this is a very bad idea” head-shake. He said, “You’ve already acknowledged that someone from a disappeared family probably betrayed Jaxin and the others.”

  Earring nodded. I guess he’d seen that head-shake before, if not from Lorrin, then probably from his own da. He chose his next words carefully. “Yes. Unfortunately, we do have reason to suspect that.”

  “Then you don’t dare send anyone else into Callo City that the disappeared families would recognize,” said Lorrin. His words had an immediate effect on all the scouts.

  “That
one worries us a lot,” Earring admitted. He exchanged a serious look with Smiller and Byrne. “If such a situation exists on Linnea, it means that none of our present scouts can continue working and observing anywhere they might risk identification. It would cripple the program.” And then he added, “Enormously.”

  “Then I do have a point, don’t I?” said Da-Lorrin, smiling wryly.

  Earring nodded sadly. It was the first time I’d ever seen him look anything less than ferocious. “Let me say it bluntly. We have to get our people out with a minimum of attention—and as little cultural upset as possible. Right now, our best plan involves a team of stealth operatives hitting all the guards simultaneously with self-vaporizing anesthetic darts. With tear gas as a backup. We know we can do it. We’ve scanned the prison, we know the layout, we know the routines of the guards. We’ve run simulations of six different assaults. We have an excellent chance of success. To the Linneans, our people will have simply disappeared from a locked cell.”

  “And that will add to the belief that Oerth-people have mysterious powers, won’t it ...?”

  “Our other on-site teams will start rumors that a sympathizer freed them, that someone saw them riding out of town. We’ll take their horses at the same time.”

  “Won’t that put the guards under suspicion?” asked a farmer named Brill. “Won’t that endanger otherwise innocent people?”