Crisis On Doona

by Anne McCaffrey

  “You’d never trace the source of those deposits,” Klonski said with a sneer, his confidence somewhat revived.

  “Really?” DeVeer asked cheerfully. “Anything on a computer tape, no matter which mainframe, can be opened for inspection—especially when a major crime is involved.”

  “They told me no one could crack their codes!” Klonski was mutinous with fear.

  “They?” DeVeer asked softly. “You forget that Poldep has extraordinary powers to investigate any department, given sufficient cause. Rustling is an excellent example.” He turned back to his keyboard.

  “Stop!” Klonski cried. DeVeer’s face was immutable stone. “I never rustled nothing, nor helped no rustlers.”

  DeVeer pushed the keyboard slightly to one side, folded his arms on his chest, and gazed at Klonski. “I’m waiting.”

  “I need a deal from Poldep.”

  “Our budget is exceedingly tight this quarter.”

  “I don’t need credit. I need immunity. I want an undetectable change of identity and location.” He paused as DeVeer nodded solemnly. “I didn’t help rustlers, and I sure didn’t change freeze marks, ’cause you can’t. But I’ll tell you what I did do. Is that enough to deal?”

  “I can’t say until I know,” DeVeer said. “I may just consider your information sufficient to return you to your current quarters with the parole violation forgotten.”

  “I gotta have security.” Klonski was so insistent about that point that Kelly’s hopes began to rise again.

  “Security you’ll get for cooperating with Poldep.”

  “Okay,” but Klonski’s expression indicated he was still dubious. DeVeer just waited while Kelly found it hard to restrain herself from jumping up and shaking the truth out of the weasel. He gave a nervous cough and then said, “What I did do was a little patching and splicing of log tapes. Nothing that looked illegal.”

  “For that kind of credit?” DeVeer allowed his face to register disbelief.

  “And ...” Klonski hesitated, his eyes darting from DeVeer to Kelly. She tried to look encouraging. “And ... I showed ’em how to neutralize security systems.”

  “Really?” DeVeer’s response was mild, but Kelly had to grip the arms of the chair to keep from jumping up in exultation. “I thought your specialty was improving such systems.”

  Feeling slightly more confident, Klonski grinned, showing badly discolored and jagged teeth. “Improve, disimprove. Same techniques needed.”

  “Who?”

  “You think I’m stupid, Polly? No blinding way do I name names. You find ’em yourself with all your extraordinary powers.” He leered smugly. “We made a deal. And I don’t say nothing more. I got rights, too, you know.”

  “However, for a new location, new name, and the right to retain the credits in your account, you might nod your head if I drop a familiar name or two?”

  Klonski was not too pleased to be probed so deeply but he didn’t deny further assistance. DeVeer pulled over a flimsy.

  “Your file indicates that you worked for Spacedep before your ... first prison term,” the Poldep inspector said conversationally. Klonski gave a sharp nod of his head and darted a glance at Kelly. “You were in Research and Development, is that correct?” Klonski did not hesitate to nod, since that was known fact. “Wasn’t old Bert Landreau in charge of R&D?”

  Kelly hoped that DeVeer noticed the shuttered look that altered Klonski’s expression.

  “Isn’t his son an Admiral now?” DeVeer went on in that deceptively casual fashion. This time Klonski’s head moved as if physically restricted. “I think that about covers it, Klonski,” DeVeer said more briskly. “You’ll be moved in the morning to similar quarters in a different sector. New ID will be issued and Klonski/Boronov will be listed as deceased, cause of death, a fatal respiratory condition. Does that suit you?”

  Klonski’s nod was enthusiastic.

  “I’ll have you returned in an ambulance to your current residence. Tomorrow a reputable firm of undertakers will arrive and your ‘corpse’ will be removed for the benefit of any observers.” DeVeer pressed a button on his comunit and a uniformed constable appeared in the door. “Medical escort is to be provided for this person, Constable. Do you wish a guard?”

  Klonski snorted in his arrogance. “No one could get in my place!” Then he clamped his mouth shut, shooting a quick glance at the rigidly attentive constable.

  “Use the discreet exit from the block, Constable.”

  “Very good, sir. This way, sir,” and the constable gestured courteously for Klonski to follow him.

  “We got a deal, Polly,” Klonski said, turning in the door and jabbing his finger at DeVeer, who nodded acknowledgment.

  The door hissed shut behind him and Kelly bounced out of the chair in her elation.

  “He admitted it. Those log tapes were altered. Todd and Hrriss are innocent.”

  “Do calm yourself, Miss Green,” DeVeer said, flicking off the recorder. “This is only the beginning of what is going to be a very difficult investigation.”

  “But he said he altered log tapes and tinkered with security systems. Don’t you see what that means?”

  “I see what you wish it to mean, but the wish is not always parent to the proof. However, such statements do cast doubt on the authenticity of the logs in question. Nor did he give us any inkling as to which security systems he has adjusted.”

  “But don’t you see? It has to be the Doona/Rrala satellites. That would explain how rustlers could get in and out with livestock and be undetected!”

  “Oh, I take that point, Miss Green. But it doesn’t solve the matter of mismarked hides, does it?”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Kelly said, and then started to giggle, covering her mouth with her hand and shooting an anxious look at DeVeer. “Klonski was so indignant to be taken for a rustler!”

  “I have discovered, Miss Green, that there is a certain form of honor among thieves.”

  “Well, then, honest men ought not to be discredited, should they?”

  DeVeer regarded her kindly after that vehement declaration. “No, they should not. I shall consider it my prime obligation and most urgent priority to assist you in clearing the good reputations of those two young persons. But,” and he held up his hand warningly when Kelly exclaimed her joy aloud, “to prove that Klonski did, in fact, use his skill on the tapes in question and on the Doonan security satellites is going to take time.”

  “We don’t have time,” Kelly said in a despairing wail. “The Councillors will bring Todd and Hrriss to trial any day now. And then there’s the Treaty negotiations ... The charges against Todd and Hrriss were planned to coincide with this critical period. My home is at stake, Inspector DeVeer.”

  “So you are a Doonan colonial?”

  Kelly sighed for her indiscretion.

  Not unkindly, he smiled. “Doona must fall or stand on its own merits, but clearly the odds against it have been staked by what does appear to be a genuine conspiracy. Personally I have had doubts about the Experiment, but I was old enough to experience the repercussions of the Siwanna Tragedy, so perhaps I’m not entirely without prejudice. But I try to overcome what I know to have been early conditioning. I think it’s a mistake to mix two such advanced races.”

  “But that’s the best kind to mix,” Kelly exclaimed. “Equal intelligence and parallel societies with similar aims and mutual respect.”

  “But Hrrubans are much more powerful than we smaller Humans. And their technology more advanced.”

  “Not in the same direction ours is. So we’ve learned from each other ...”

  “They have not granted us that transportation system of theirs ...”

  “And we have not given them the right to build our more sophisticated spaceship engines, so I think we’re even on the question of space travel.”

  “You ar
gue well, Miss Green.”

  “I’ve specialized knowledge to back up my arguments, Mr. DeVeer.”

  “I trust that events will conspire to let us continue. I have never met a more devoted adherent of the Experiment. But, in my estimation, the appalling Siwanna Tragedy has not been diminished by the short period of Doona’s success.” He brought himself up short. “You remind me of my daughter. She argues for her causes with all her heart, too. And you’ve risked much to lay your case before me.” He rose to his feet, signalling an end to their discussion.

  “I’d risk a lot more!” Kelly got to her feet and shrugged out of Poldep black. “Can you let me know how your investigations progress? Or do you no longer consider me your special deputy?”

  “That deputization will be in force for the remainder of your stay on Earth, but I’d prefer that you didn’t wander into a situation where I have to notice you officially. I’ll be in touch with the communications number that made your appointment with me. And by the way,” he said, “next time, please obtain permission to visit Earth. If you have a legitimate reason, or an invitation, there isn’t any problem.”

  Kelly smiled. “You are thorough.”

  “I like to think that I am, Miss ... ah, Green.” He actually winked at her and she wondered if he had discovered her real identity but thought better about asking. “The amnesty policy is scrupulously maintained.”

  “Can that cover my ‘sources of information,’ too?”

  DeVeer frowned slightly, then his face cleared. “You did mention that there’s someone about to whistle-blow, didn’t you? We’ll see that your friends are protected if at all possible. I expect there’ll be a great deal of housecleaning before this matter is concluded. An official privacy seal is not meant to conceal capital crimes such as grand larceny and security tampering.” DeVeer took her hand. “I am grateful to you for your information. Poldep does need the help of all honest citizens, otherwise where would we be? Thank you, Miss Green.”

  Kelly grinned at him, positive that he did know who she really was. “Thank you, sir.”

  She spent the night curled up on Dalkey’s hard mattress, dreaming of snaking tapes with matched ends that then split apart to reattach themselves to other loose ends, and satellite spheres with the face of Askell Klonski, and each wart on his face another capped sensor.

  * * *

  The medical supply warehouse was in a section of Corridor and Aisle that Kelly had never visited before. She had to descend on a packed elevator through several levels, through the newer, smaller residences of Labor workers, and then pattered off the elevator into the manufacturing zone. Her fellow passengers, mostly maintenance workers for the Air Recycling Service, marched past her in a single mass, almost as if they were stuck together from being squeezed in the elevator.

  The noise control standards had evidently been waived for this level, and so had the air purification ordinances. Hooting and wailing from machinery battled with the deafening thrum of turbines and the cumulative babble of Human voices. This Corridor was full of unrelieved gray and black buildings. They looked clean enough—no graffiti, no layers of dirt or filth—but they left her with the feeling that if she touched anything her fingers would come away filmed with soot.

  Kelly found the address Nrrna had written down for her and slipped past the great open doors. Inside was the largest single room she had yet seen on Earth. The raftered ceiling loomed the full height of the level. Hundreds of men and women in drab bodysuits and heavy gloves passed her in pursuit of their various tasks. Pallet loaders, large, small, and staggeringly huge, rolled around the floor, picking up crates and packages from teetering stacks of merchandise. The scale of the warehouse amazed her. The entire Doona Launch Center could fit in the middle of this vast facility, and leave room for its normal day’s operation on every side, and this facility only forwarded medical supplies to outer worlds.

  Stinking of hot oil, the forklifts trundled great bales of goods into giant freight elevators, for conveyance to the lower levels for distribution, or to the surface, where they could be loaded into spaceships. Neither of these two destinations was appropriate for Kelly. She needed to find where a particular small delivery was being prepared. The Hrruban Center grid was only a few meters square.

  She had fitted herself out with a clipboard and a small parcel, wrapped under Dalkey’s instruction and sealed with a Spacedep logo they had cut out from a discarded film copy. The box was filled with food from his synthesizer. After two unappetizing meals of the stuff at Dalkey’s flat, she hoped she wouldn’t have to eat it, but who knew how long it would be before she could be rescued from the container? Nrrna might have to wait for solitude to open the crate.

  “Is this the shipment for Doona?” Kelly asked in a bored tone, consulting her clipboard. “I’ve got a parcel to add to it. Spacedep,” she added with a nice touch of apathy.

  The man glanced up at her with equal disinterest. “Nope. Try dock sixteen.”

  “Is this the shipment for Doona?” Kelly inquired at dock sixteen.

  “It is.” The short woman directing the lowering of boxes from one side of the dock onto a pallet glanced back over her shoulder at the tall mousy-haired girl. “Why?”

  Kelly’s heart gave a little jolt within her. “I, uh, have a package to go on it. Spacedep.”

  “There’s nothing in my manifest from Spacedep for Doona,” the woman said, tapping the clipboard she held under her arm.

  Kelly pretended disgust. “Well, it was handed over to me this morning to make sure it got aboard.”

  The woman stopped and flipped open the clipboard. It was full of neat documents, all sealed at the bottom by the departments of authorization. “Codep; Healthdep; Healthdep, that’s not here yet; Alreldep; Healthdep ...” She turned each one over until she came to the last one. “No, nothing from Spacedep. You must have the wrong order.” The woman looked up, but her querist was gone. Shrugging, the woman turned back to her bales.

  While the woman’s attention was focused on the documentation, Kelly had slipped away and squeezed between two large boxes. One of the crates heading for Doona was only half full. Nrrna had arranged for Healthdep on Earth to send just enough sterile gloves to fill half a standard case but too many to be crated in a smaller container. Nrrna and Kelly calculated that there should be enough room for her to fit. Kelly began to look at labels to find the Healthdep shipment. She found it by the logo—a cross and crescent in a circle—marked on a blue crate. She tapped out the security code on the small comp, wriggled into the crate, and pulled the lid down over her, hearing the whirr as the cover locked itself again. Now all she had to do was try to make herself comfortable, and she would be home in hours.

  The muffled sounds around her crate got louder, so she had a bit of warning before the box rose into the air and swung wildly from side to side. One of the cranes was doing the transfer. Kelly had the terrifying sensation of flying through the air, followed by a bump that tossed packages of the flimsy gloves all around her. The plastic envelopes stuck to her clothes, hair, and face. She peeled them off, and cupped her hands over her face to keep from being suffocated by the flying packages. As soon as the case was fastened down on the pallet, the gloves settled. She burrowed her way into the packages until only her head and her shoulders were jammed against the side of the box, her feet propped against the lower end and her knees under her chin. Not the most comfortable of positions and she tried to make herself believe that claustrophobia was a small price to pay for the success of her illegal voyage.

  The crate jerked again as it started to move sideways, bumping Kelly’s head. The whole pallet must be on its way to the Hrruban Center. She could hear the squeak of unoiled wheels as it was pushed onto the transportation grid which rattled under her buttocks. She had little room in which to relieve cramped muscles and half wished that she’d asked Inspector DeVeer to arrange legitimate transport for her back to Doo
na. But that would have required too many explanations and too much time by ordinary Human spaceship. However uncomfortable, at least this trip would be instantaneous.

  Through the sides of the crate, she could hear the low rumble of Hrringa’s voice, asking for the cargo manifests. She hoped he didn’t have to search each package before sending it. No, she merely heard the telltale beeping of the bomb detector as it was swept over the bales, and then it trundled sideways again. Kelly hoped her bale wouldn’t be sent somewhere else in error. All she could do now was wait and try not to worry.

  At least she didn’t see the transfer mist or feel nauseated by the dislocation amid her padding of glove packets.

  NRRNA WAITED at the transport station. She was trying to appear calm, but she could not control the nervous twitching of her tail tip, a giveaway to anyone watching her. She was no longer of an age where she could have held her tail between her hands to subdue its reaction to her mood.

  The Hrruban male who was in charge of the transport grid had passed a few pleasantries with her, but he had to keep his attention on his job, and not on the very attractive female hovering nearby. The timetable on transmissions and receptions was very tight. Two sendings could not be received on the grid at the same time. If one overlapped another, he had to put it on hold until the first one was entirely received.

  “The medical shipment is not due from Earth for another thirty minutes,” he said once again.

  “I know that,” Nrrna said, dropping her jaw in an appealing smile to belie her nervousness. “It is very important that I take delivery as soon as possible. There’s quite a lot of fur flying over letting the supply of sterile gloves get so low.”