External Relations

by Pam Uphoff

  The woman so well nicknamed the Fiend smiled. “I’ll also go out with sticky tape and pick up some samples from their vehicles, their clothes, their offices.”

  ***

  Ajha had no trouble finding out where each Team went. He scowled at Fean. "Why are nineteen out of twenty-four Action Teams always going to Granite Peak?"

  "Because the Nomads raid the farms. The Militia needs help."

  "And why have the nomads suddenly started raiding? Earther's in disguise, perhaps? I think I need to personally see what's going on, track them on the other side."

  "Correction. We need to observe and track various groups on the other side." Fean smiled. "We won't be able to requisition a crawler, or even a ute without Ebko knowing, and Wgli would probably find out. So why don't I go borrow a couple of horses from a friend?"

  Ajha bit his lip. "They'll be conspicuous, unless they're in a bubble."

  "One forfend we be conspicuous." She winked at him and trotted off.

  Ajha scratched his chin, and decided he didn't need to report until he'd observed the Action Teams across the Gate. Action Teams getting ready for the field were emotionally loud. After his brief stint as a Philosopher, Ajha had trouble locking out those group emotions. He would have at least several hours notice of a Team heading across.

  In the meantime, he returned to the latest pointless analysis Subdirector Ebko had him working on. It was rather fun, finding the longest and most obscure adjectives to use, and the widest and silliest spread of possible explanations in the early analysis, before he narrowed the probable causes down to the more likely.

  And sometimes they didn't narrow. Which was interesting in itself. Take the analysis of Director Izzo's buddy from Homestead. Subdirector Ebko had had a fit when he discovered the man had gone to Comet Fall.

  !Tok had claimed he was talking about trade with them, and Ajha'd been able to pick up his honesty. Not a complete answer, but what he said had been honest. His other actions were inclusive—that is, favoring a consolidated Empire. Very unexpected, from a "Native." An interesting man, a retired police detective, now hard working businessman from a fast modernizing industrial world. !Tok was rich, owned multiple businesses, large ones. Active in local politics and civil affairs.

  We need some new terms. Calling !Tok a native is insane.

  Call it what you will, the Homestead puzzle was very unlike this tangle on Granite Peak, which seemed to be creating chaos. He was certain that hiding behind the deliberate chaos was something purposeful, and it did not have the wellbeing of the Empire as a goal.

  Is it only the Nomads that want to be rid of their ties to Earth and One? Could there actually be a stubborn resistance by the Oners over there? Or have they been suborned by Earth? Surely not, High Oners would never take orders from the unmagical Government of Earth. I need a breakthrough. I need an Action Team prepping to go tomorrow or the next day.

  Ajha thought it over and reluctantly decided he was going to have to blindside this new boss of his.

  He tapped out a quick message. “Nineteen of the twenty-four Action Teams have been to Granite Peak. Are the Nomads’ raids bad enough to warrant that?”

  He eyed the note. If I tell him I’m going to take a look in person he’ll veto it.

  He reached out and tapped the send button.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  21 Nicholas 1408 yp

  Gate City, One World

  Izzo eyed four of his Alcairo cousins skeptically. Izfo, Imvo, Idzo, and Ikti sidled into his office in a disorganized mob that eventually elbowed Izfo to the fore.

  He didn't look like a very willing spokesman.

  Izzo raised inquiring eyebrows.

  Izfo cleared his throat. "We talked it over and sort of thought we should mention that, purely rumors and speculation, you know . . ." a pause, then all in a rush, "but some subdirectors seemed to be quite taken with the idea that Granite Peak ought to be an independent world."

  Izzo leaned back in his chair. "Well, that's Disco's stand. Independent—and without Oners, Earthers, or any other outsiders."

  An uneasy stir. Imvo swallowed. "I don't think our colonists will leave."

  "Well . . . we’ll see. I do realize they're in a tight place, but I'm working on an excellent fix. You might spread that rumor around, if you were to hear anything . . . that might get anyone in trouble."

  Nervous smiles and all four edging toward the door.

  "Thank you for stopping by to tell me that. I will keep your help in mind."

  They didn't quite stampede out the door.

  Izzo sighed. "Well, well. Not really news, but a definite break in the club. And good enough to justify some further actions."

  ***

  "Princess Gewz, this is Obhi. Hob is very good with computers. Hob, the Princess is going to do a stealth audit of the subdirectors."

  Hob's eyes widened, then his smile. "Did I just hear permission to crack the Directorate's computers?"

  "Yes, but don't get carried away." Izzo gave him a firm look. "Ajha's told me all about you. Wizzy, start with these six and we'll see what we've got. If their Princesses' have Directorate accounts—most of them work here, after all—you can take a look there as well."

  Izzo stepped back across the hall to his own suite. "If you hear noises like Wiz is killing that poor techie, let me know."

  "Yes sir." Kiel's lips quivered and he would have sworn she almost smiled.

  ***

  "All right. First I settle things with the Nomads. I hope. Then I settle these idiots' hash, but good. Hopefully before they make any moves that could be considered treasonous." Izzo stared down at Wiz's report. His stomach knotted. It's too late for way too many people!

  Fean sniffed.

  "No really. If they're just being stubborn, I'll deal with it. If they're just embezzling the money, they go to jail. A separatist movement . . . how they handle it will determine if it's treason or not. One! They'd better have taken a vote. It had better be a citizen driven action. Any actual treason is going to end in a bloodbath, and seriously damage the Directorate."

  "Oh." Fean winced. "I hope it's just embezzlement."

  Chapter Twenty-five

  5 Shaban 1408 yp

  Gate City, One World

  Izzo grinned at El Zee's frowning study of the horses.

  "You ought to have asked for someone who’d love a week on horseback."

  Izzo shook his head. "Much though I hate to admit it, I may need someone to watch my back. Granite Peak is a real mess. And I can't even blame it on Disco. Something's going on—raids and kidnapping—that are being blamed on the Nomads. But why now? I need to talk to them, and find out if it is them, before I go to Disco and accuse the Earthers." He nodded at the two mares. "They're native to Homestead and have incredible endurance. A present for the Chief of the tribe that interacts the most with the Oners on Granite Peak, and well known and respected among the larger clan that holds most of the continent."

  El Zee nodded. "And you think you can find them?"

  "They've gone to their summer pastures. I have a map." Izzo grinned at the younger man's expression. "And a direction finder. They've adopted a fair amount of tech that should be easily trackable. I'm hoping that you are just along for the ride, and . . . I happen to have a corridor, so we can return on foot, quickly."

  “When do you want to leave?"

  "Very early, which will be pre-dawn on Granite Peak. They're further west than we are, not much difference, but, well, I figure if we're early, maybe there will be less argument about my going."

  El Zee's eyes narrowed. "They argue with the Director of External Relations? Or is the proper term, obstruct? And . . . surely that doesn’t include the gate guards here!"

  "I'd rather not find out. I've stuck a wedge in those idiots’ solidarity—well, they mostly did it themselves—and I'd like to not give them cause to bury their differences."

  "Sounds like fun. What exactly are they up to?"

  Izzo shrugge
d. "Figuring that out is half the problem. All the weasel-wording and squirming was irritating. I do believe them when they say it involves Granite Peak, but I've got three other Colony subdirectors involved, along with Ebko and Idzo."

  "The Embassy Affairs subdirector? That surprises me; not that I like the man. The Action subdirector, that I can see. Ebko wanted to be the Director. Has he joined forces with Iffy? Iffy's never forgiven the president for choosing Ajki over him, and now by passing him over again . . . Idiot. While he was acting director, he managed to get four close relatives in as subdirectors. And he wonders why Orde decided he wasn't right for the job? Heh."

  The boy’s had his ears open and his brain working.

  Izzo nodded. "I just haven't managed to find out what they are up to. But I need to settle the Granite Peak mess, whether they like the idea or not. I've got a really nice big wedge to shove into that problem, and I hope that a chat with the chief will settle the Oner part of the problem."

  El Zee eyed him. "Giving up Granite Peak will not be popular."

  Izzo grinned. "The younger generation is leading the way. You heard Q. That pack of teenagers that marched into Disco and asked Q for a new world has given me a new way to solve the problem. All I need to do is spin the news into the Brave and Resourceful youngsters taking their fate into their own hands. And an agreement from the chief to let the old folks stew about, and finally give up and follow them."

  "Ha! A pack of teenagers? Oh, I'll bet the old guys are steamed."

  "I suspect they will be—once they figure out where the kids are disappearing to." Izzo grinned. "I suspect that a lot of the reported raiding is the kids moving. But I do need to check on that."

  They drove the truck—two horses tied inside—quietly through the arch of the gate to Granite Peak, with light unnoticeable spells wrapped around them. Cruised quietly through the small town and down a road between farms, as the sun peeked above the horizon.

  Izzo eyed the farms, frowning.

  "Is there a problem?" El Zee was sweeping the hedgerows with a keen glance, not seeing it.

  "The fields are hand plowed, well, horse or ox, but the signs of tractor plowing are absent. The furrows should be straighter, with sets of a dozen or so absolutely parallel, even if the tractor driver is a hamfisted amateur and can't line up right to get the next set in right. And the fields are small."

  "They lost a lot of equipment to the Earthers."

  "We sent some new equipment right after the rediscovery. And the Council coughed up the money to replace all the old ruined or missing machinery five years ago, then sued through Disco to get the Earth to pay reparations. And been stuck in court, ever since. But the farmers ought to have tractors."

  "And since at least some of them don't . . ." El Zee looked over at him. "One has to wonder just where the money has gone."

  "Yep.” Izzo stepped out of the truck and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He tore, carefully, the four top circles and magically stuck them to the trunks of two trees, at an angle to the road where they might not be spotted. He climbed back aboard, El Zee following him backwards, looking at the small bronze square.

  Just big enough for us to step through.

  Izzo put the truck back in gear. “The nomads are six hundred kilometers up the river. Let's see how close we can get before we have to ride. I'd like to do it in three days."

  ***

  Izzo refused to examine what he was about to put into his mouth. Crunchy and sweet, and those are not legs or antennae. "Old men. Well, being one, I understand."

  The chief grunted agreement. "Yes. Well, this girl has a good idea. It will solve everyone's problems. The Oners will have their farms, the half breeds will be out of our hair, and even my own youngsters can find out that perhaps their decrepit grandparents knew what they were talking about. As this girl says, the old Oners can come with them, or die of old age in crumbling towns. It is good."

  He spit on his palm. Izzo spit on his. They shook. And went back to eating and drinking their way through a huge spread. Meat, from at least four critters. Veggies, fruit . . . honey cakes . . . crunchy sweet things that were not insectile at all . . . beer, some sort of fruit wine, a fermented dairy product, he was fairly sure it was mare's milk . . .

  Izzo looked at the sheer amount of food and boggled. Can I stagger drunkenly while waddling? And why did I envision the Nomads as lean and half starved? Maybe I had better stay one more night and sleep it off . . . Erm, no. Must get back and see what the troublemakers are up to.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  6 Shaban 1408 yp

  Gate City, One World

  "Hob sicced Azko on the satellite data, and he’s found something interesting. Someone has created a hole in the coverage, and we need to find out what's there. But first, let's see where Team Fifteen is going, and what they are doing."

  Fean shaded her eyes and studied the dust hanging in the air. "They didn't waste any time getting out of town. You'd think they'd have some social contact with the locals—they, or someone, have been crossing over regularly for the last three years."

  Ajha categorized the locals automatically as he walked. Mental shields halfway open to incoming information. There’s a Oner, and she’s a half-Nomad by the cheek bones, that fellow looked for all the world like an Earther, but he has a bit of glow. A trio of teenagers on the corner—the girl had Nomad cheekbones, but the Oner connection was solid . . . plus something a bit different . . . ah. Purple.

  The Earthers must be bringing in Purps to work the mines. Cough Cough freed a lot of them, and they all mixed with the Nomads during the decades before Xen Wolfson opened a gate to the One World.

  A bit of testing for dimensional abilities might be in order.

  Not that Granite Peak is any of our business, any more.

  The two boys were pure Oner. The ladies turning to look at them were halfers.

  A bit further down the street, the men in khakis were Servaones, and not locals. They had the look of hired guards. Police, perhaps? They stepped out and gave them a narrow eyed scan.

  "Too late to use Unnoticeable," he muttered. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the corner of Fean's mouth tuck in.

  She changed her posture slightly, lowered her shields a bit, and suddenly the two policemen were gaping at her. Drooling. All suspicion and belligerence forgotten.

  Ajha sighed. The girl can drop out of Princess school, but she never forgets how to manipulate men.

  “There’s the Governor’s House.” A modest two steps up to a shabby old two-story office building.

  A prefab from the original colonization.

  And those trucks parked down the side street look like standard Exterior flatbeds, minus any logos.

  Not that some aren’t surplused, but a quick stickum across the door would cover up . . . but why would anyone want to conceal the XR connection?

  I wonder what’s under the tarps?

  Ajha turned his attention back to the office building. He walked straight in.

  A group of men down the hallway . . . Governor Arry looked over his shoulder, then turned and walked toward them. The other men all walked down a side hallway . . . wait, wasn’t that what’s his name, the driver for facilities?

  Ajha didn’t have a good enough look to be sure, and the others were already out of sight.

  “What the One Hell are you doing here? You were annoying enough before you turned pacifist.” Arry glared.

  “Governor, why are the Action Teams so active here?”

  “Might have something to do with the raids?” Arry looked him up and down with contempt. “Ebko’s dealing with it. You can get your native-loving ass back home where it belongs.”

  “Governor . . . you’d better not be attacking the Nomads. Don’t give Disco another reason to come down hard on us.” Ajha eyed him for a long moment, then turned and walked out.

  The Fiend had a strong unnoticeable spell up around her solid mental shield. And a dangerous stare aimed down the hall at
the governor.

  Ajha made a slight finger gesture, forward and right. She turned and followed him out without killing anyone.

  As the door shut behind them, he felt the governor move down that side hallway, and warped light around himself as he turned right toward the truck convoy.

  A dozen men in, or just getting into the trucks. The Governor getting into a white car that pulled around the trucks and turned south.

  The trucks followed.

  Ajha and Fean sprinted for the corner and threw themselves onto the back of the last truck.

  “Isn’t this the way we got into our most dire fix?” She grinned at him.

  Ajha grinned back. “I don’t know. Which one do you consider the most dire? There’ve been such a lot of them . . . “

  “Helios, hands down.”

  He hesitated, nodded. “Probably. There was the T-Rex that ate the Grad student.”

  Sniff. “One person, at worst there were only a dozen of us.”

  “All right. I was in Cadent during their annual . . . Holiday.”

  Fean frowned. “Umm, boss, are you complaining about a city-wide orgy?”

  “Yes. And it was nation-wide.”

  She snickered.

  As they cleared the last houses, he leaned out to look over the fields at the morning sun. "Interesting. They're headed straight for that hole in the satellite recordings. Roughly seventeen hundred kilometers. I hope they drive straight through.”

  “If that’s where they’re going.” Fean grinned, bright-eyed and obviously happy to get out of the office. “If they turn off, we’ll have to bail out.”