Crisis On Doona

by Anne McCaffrey

  Hrriss hissed softly. “This will take time to decipher,” Hrriss said, reading over Todd’s shoulder. “First it must be determined which numeric prefixes pertain to which worlds.”

  “A lot of money changed hands,” Todd said, and whistled at the size of separate amounts. “I don’t think it’ll be that hard with so many good minds”—he grinned about him—“focused on the job. Look. The numbers repeat. Some of these accounts have had several deposits. With what we already know, we ought to be able to figure out which worlds are involved. We can start by checking the amounts against what we’ve got in Klonski’s.”

  “Shouldn’t we take this right to Poldep?” Kelly asked.

  “Call me paranoid if you want, Kelly, but I want to decipher this for ourselves first before we show it to anyone else.”

  “Yeah, if they turned out to be legitimate supply payments,” Kelly said with a grimace, “we’d damage our cause. We can’t afford to do that! And” —her voice strengthened and her eyes flashed up at him—“you’re not paranoid—not any more than you have reason to be.”

  Todd grinned down at her, really enjoying their newfound intimacy. “These could turn out to be quite legitimate remittances to free-lancers on infrequent invoices.”

  “I think Dalkey would know if that’s what they were,” Kelly said, slightly defensive. Dalkey had taken risks to get these to her, and he wasn’t stupid. “But you’re right. Let’s divvy them up among us so it’ll go faster.”

  “All for one and one for all,” Nrrna startled Todd and Kelly by saying. Seeing their surprise, she smiled in pleasure at the effect. “I found that quote in one of your Earth classics.”

  Todd grinned. “I think a more appropriate quote might be ‘If we don’t hang together, we will most assuredly hang separately.’ Any luck on the other half of Project Infiltrate?” he asked Kelly, his arm still lightly about her shoulders.

  Kelly rolled her eyes over that little escapade and then gave her friends a quick summary.

  “Madam Dupuis is on our side?” Todd exclaimed when she had finished. “That’s a real plus.” Then he shook his head. “It’s just tough luck that you couldn’t get inside the document box, but the seal’s incriminating. The Treaty Controller is supposed to be impartial. He certainly shouldn’t be receiving documents from Third Speaker. No wonder he collected the shipment himself. Let’s get cracking on what we do have.”

  They quickly determined that what Dalkey had sent was the complete printout of all transactions within the slush fund account for a period of fifteen years, ending two years before the present date. Once decoded, it might provide the hard documentation they needed.

  “Three eight one is the prefix for Zapata Three,” Todd said, referring to the printout that had been presented to the Treaty Council by Landreau. “So shall we assume that this first number is the account opened by ‘Rikard Baliff’?” He compared the dates with missions he and Hrriss had been on: those which Rogitel had intimated had included nefarious side trips. “Well, whaddya know? Every single transaction date matches with one of our trips, Hrriss.”

  The Hrruban hissed softly between his teeth. “Someone has most scrupulously kept track of our journeys. But that could be anyone on Rrala. We made no secret of our departures and of our estimated time of return.”

  “And told their Zapatan contact just when to make lodgments,” Kelly said, seething at the complicity and the way it had been turned against her friends. “Isn’t that a second Zapatan account?” and she tapped her stylus on another 381 listing. “Is that our rustler being paid off? It’s too neat to be mere coincidence, especially when all the figures match all that incriminating junk Rogitel was waffling on about. Sure looks like a connection between Spacedep and that rustler to me. Let’s take it to Inspector DeVeer.”

  Todd grinned at her for her enthusiasm. “Not yet,” he said, ticking off the entries they had identified. “I’d rather find out where all these other entries fit in.” He held up his index finger. “One correlation is not sufficient. We present the entire package and they have to believe us. Someone has gone to a lot of trouble to make us look as guilty as possible. We have to shoot down all the brrnas in the flock.”

  * * *

  Rogitel left the official chamber as soon as the Treaty Council adjourned for the day and transferred by grid back to Earth. Without a word to Hrringa in the Hrruban Center, he made his way swiftly out of the Alreldep block and directly to Landreau’s office at Spacedep. The secretary silently admitted him to the director’s small private office.

  He stood vector-straight before Landreau’s desk while his superior finished a comp call.

  “I have information from our contact in the Archives,” Rogitel reported as soon as Landreau had completed the call. “Inquiries are being made through to Zapata and several of the other worlds where the Reeve accounts are being maintained. They are in possession of specific deposit information, so they must have a source, within Spacedep, providing them with data from our records.”

  “So that is what’s going on,” Landreau said, his face suffusing with anger. He began scrolling through his console, his finger hard on the key. “A report came to my notice a few days back but I couldn’t see why I should be bothered with minor infractions. Here it is!” And he gestured for Rogitel to scan it. “Trivial matters must never be ignored: even something so insignificant as a junior making copies of old screens. Take this Dalkey Petersham into custody, for illegal copying of official documents. Find out who he’s been working for, if he’s sent on the documents and to whom. Take his brain apart if you need to. Use querastrin if you must. But get a full confession from him.” Landreau sprang out of his seat, pacing up and down, his stocky body quivering with fury.

  “A confession under duress, sir? That’s not altogether prudent. Nor can we obtain permission to use the truth drug on him for copying old, declassified accounting records. Wouldn’t it be wiser, Admiral, to leave him in place and watch him? If he thinks he has gotten away with this first foray, he’ll feel bolder about repeating his success. If you catch him in the process of committing a crime, you have far more latitude in extracting information from him.”

  “I don’t like it,” Landreau said, sitting down again, and flicking his fingers at the damning report on the screen. “I don’t like it in the least.” He pressed hard on the scroll key, stopping it and rewinding to position a new document, bearing the Poldep seal. “Reeve has had the damnedest luck. Couldn’t you have done something to keep that beacon from being discovered?”

  “Admiral, we had to get it out of the way as fast as possible and that meant using the most accessible transport, a merchant ship. Safe enough under most circumstances.”

  “But it wasn’t! And that Mayday has removed one of our weapons against the Reeves. How did they find that shipment, Rogitel? That beacon should never have seen the light of day and it surfaces ... plainly marked to Spacedep.”

  “Freak accident, sir,” Rogitel replied calmly. He had often discovered that the calmer he remained, the sooner the Admiral’s rages cooled. “Meteorite hole penetrated the hull and the carton, setting off the Mayday. I interviewed the captain himself. He was eager to talk about it. He appears to have been ‘dining out’ on it. Fortunately I was able to cancel the pickup and the crate remains unclaimed. If someone inquires, we say that it could well be an attempt on the part of the Reeves to implicate Spacedep to clear themselves of complicity.”

  “Good thinking, Rogitel, good thinking,” and Landreau began to relax, even to smile. “But we’d better find out if there’s any connection between this Petersham clerk and Doona. They can’t slip out of any other charges or our plans will be ruined.” He rattled his fingers on the desktop. “And I’ve an unsettling report from Varnorian’s contacts in Codep. A Dr. Walter Tylanio from Prueba V was hired for a special job by someone from Doona.” Landreau’s eyes narrowed. “The only laser technology that
Doona has is in its security satellites.”

  Rogitel could well appreciate how serious that could be, but he didn’t know how anyone had discovered Klonski. Surely not the Petersham clerk. Maybe he had better acquire a vial of querastrin from his sources. Then an angry thump brought his attention right back to Landreau.

  “I want Doona to be totally discredited. I want our plans to succeed in every particular, and for that to happen, the Doonan Experiment has to fail. Fail! Be wiped clean of its contaminated Humans and especially those misbegotten animals.”

  “Sir, calm yourself,” Rogitel said, leaning across the desk toward his superior. “Your plans will succeed. While it’s too late for subtlety, it’s not too late,” and he paused to smile reassuringly at Landreau, “to remove the primary cause of the entire problem.”

  “What?” Landreau said, staring fiercely up at his subordinate.

  “Really quite simple. Remove the Reeves from Doona. I think they are at the bottom of much unfavorable publicity about Doona. Surely they should report—in person—to their Codep superiors here on Earth.”

  Landreau’s ruddy face slowly broke into a smile. “See to it,” he ordered. “Varnorian will oblige. Get them here and get them eliminated!”

  * * *

  Admiral Landreau was the epitome of regret and sorrow when he informed the Amalgamated Worlds Congress of the dreadful situation which existed on Doona when so much was at stake in the renewal of the Treaty. He stood in the beam of a pinpoint spotlight, addressing the half-seen figures illuminated by twelve identical cones of light in the vast chamber. In the blackness between was the faint peeping sound of the court reporter’s machine.

  “The Reeves are threatening the very safety of your design to form a Federation of Sentient Planets. Their activities destroy the very integrity and credibility of the Amalgamated Worlds and our dream for a united galaxy! Once the models of probity and dedication, both father and son have conspired to seize Doona for their own, and, had it not been for the discovery of their heinous infractions of the most basic Treaty stipulations, they might have succeeded in their scheming.”

  “Treaty Councillors are supposed to deal with such infractions, aren’t they?” one of the panel inquired.

  “Not when the crimes have such far-reaching consequences. No, honored sirs, this matter goes far beyond the Doonan system. It has most certainly raised awkward questions in the Hrruban Speakers Council and the Treaty Council as well!” Landreau shook his head sadly to add that detail. “I am deeply concerned that the Hrrubans will feel obliged to alter their opinions of us all, if these deplorable men remain in so public a position on Doona. The least that will happen is for the Hrrubans to pull out of the Federation or, worse, decide that we Humans must be rigorously schooled in their ways. They will undoubtedly impede our reach for the stars, cut short our explorations, confine us to the few planets we already own. Since Todd Reeve has not, cannot be cleared of his alleged crimes, I call for the removal of the Reeves from Doona to Earth for being detrimental to the renewal of the Treaty of Doona. I am sure your counterpart on Hrruba will also withdraw their, er, embarrassment from the colony, for that young male causes his people great sorrow. You must surely understand why we cannot have people of questionable integrity involved in high-level positions in the colony at this critical time. Remove the Reeves from Doona and let that situation resolve itself without further detriment.”

  There was a lot of muttering among the panel as Landreau’s suggestion was discussed. He waited patiently, knowing that he had presented a valid and timely argument. He was rather pleased by his eloquence and the way he had deftly emphasized the salient points.

  Landreau was even more pleased when the prevailing sentiment favored his solution. He had also counted on the fact that trade agreements had been drawn up and were awaiting the renewal of the Treaty before Hrruban ratification. That factor had probably contributed to the necessity of removing such controversial persons.

  “You have made a plain case of a disgraceful situation,” the chairman said. “At such a critical stage, nothing may be permitted to jeopardize the Treaty Renewal. Bailiff, give orders for Ken Reeve and his son Todd to be immediately brought to Earth to appear before this panel. Make the necessary representations to the Hrruban Center for the use of grid transportation of these two.” Then the chairman inclined his head toward Landreau. “You may, of course, be present at the hearing, Admiral.”

  “Gladly,” Landreau said. “I wish to further the cause of justice in every way within my power.”

  With some effort he restrained his elation. He must now make arrangements so that when that pair arrived, the Hrrubans on duty at that wretched grid would be those who would deliver the Reeves into his keeping. Soon, soon, he thought, rubbing his hands together in smug anticipation, he would be rid of Ken Reeve and that hyperactive son of his forever. Then his most ambitious plan could be initiated. Instead of the panel of inquiry meeting them, there would be an entirely different kind of reception committee awaiting the Reeves. Landreau smiled.

  * * *

  “My eyes will be ruined reading this small print,” Todd said, briefly knuckling his eye sockets as he wearily turned over another one of Dalkey’s printouts. “Some of these entries date back from when we were kids. Have you found anything relevant?” he asked Hrriss, who was as diligently examining his share of the packet. He paused, stretching his arms above his head to release the tension across his shoulders.

  “They may be old but we have decided that the conspiracy against us was very carefully put into motion long before there was any reason to suspect one,” Hrriss replied, but he also took a moment to stretch cramped muscles. “These entries,” and he tapped a claw tip on the sheets, “are all from Darwin II-MF-4, a very remote colony world, not yet qualified for full status.”

  “Could be a place to ship stolen livestock,” Todd said. He bent to his task again, stylus poised to cross off an entry, as he peered at the next line. “Whoa! Here’s an account number right here on Doona!”

  “Whose?” Hrriss asked. Todd swung around to the computer and instituted a name search. Madam Dupuis had arranged for them to use Archival records to match numbers with names, providing they limited their inquiries to that.

  “Dunno yet. The last payment in these records is two years old. The person it belongs to might have left Doona in the interim.” He drummed his nails irritably on the tabletop, waiting for the data to appear. When the screen scrolled up in answer to his query, Todd just stared at it, his face turning into a cold mask. Without a word, he rose, snatched up the printout, and started for the door.

  “Whose number is it? Zodd? Where are you going?”

  Todd kept walking. “To the Launch Center.”

  “Why?” the Hrruban demanded.

  “To skin a snake.”

  Hrriss glanced at the name on the screen and hurried after his friend. “Lincoln Newry! How very convenient!”

  * * *

  “Todd!” Lincoln Newry said pleasantly as they marched into the circle of light cast by the single spot set into the ceiling. Martinson’s assistant had his feet up on a desk in the Launch Center office, watching the tape of an entertainment program on the comunit screen while keeping half an eye on his scopes. “Hrriss! Nice to see you both. We don’t get many visitors way out here. It’s lonely in the evenings. Can I offer you something to drink? Nice warm night for this time of year.”

  “Your boss isn’t here?” Todd asked expressionlessly. “I’d like him to hear what I’ve got to say.”

  “Nope,” said Newry gaily. “He’s gallivanting around the galaxy with old Kiachif. Some people have all the fun. I get to mind the store while he’s gone.”

  Todd nodded. “How convenient, but that does fit another piece into the puzzle. We’d no reason to suspect either you or Martinson.”

  “Suspect? Me or Martinson? Of what?”

&n
bsp; “Of helping Doona’s enemies.”

  “Ah, c’mon, now, Todd. You’re imagining weeds into snakes,” Newry said in a soothing tone, but Todd noticed a wariness in his eyes despite his rallying words.

  “Someone knew when and where Hrriss and I went on the Albatross, knew our flight plans and where we’d warp-jump. Someone also had to be here, in this office,” and Todd had Newry’s complete attention now, “to let rustlers lift from the surface. Whaddya want to bet that we can prove that every time a heist was made, you, Linc Newry, just happened to be on duty?”

  With an incredulous laugh, Newry shook his head. “No way, son ...”

  “I’m not your son,” Todd said, his face hard and implacable with suppressed anger. Hrriss had never seen him so furious. He moved to the balls of his feet in readiness. “And you know a ship launched the other night and somehow you can turn the security satellites off so they don’t record either launches or landings of rustler shuttles.”

  “Hold on, hold on, there!” Newry said, raising his hands to pacify Todd and shooting Hrriss an indignant look that suggested Hrriss should calm his friend down. “You can’t run around accusing people of doing this or that just to clear yourselves.”

  “I think I can,” Todd said in an icy certain voice. “I figured it out. If Martinson’s not here, you’re the one who creates legitimate documentation for export shipments from Doona. You mind the shop, as you said yourself. And no one could have missed that atmospheric insertion the other night. You were probably looking at its trail as you assured me that no one had blasted off-planet with a load of horses rustled from Dad’s ranch.”

  Newry was still waving his hands and shaking his head incredulously at Todd’s accusations.