“Are you at liberty to reveal JACHE’s interest?” asks Zammis. “And what of Timan Nisak?”
“Nisak has been informed, but has not responded. As to JACHE’s interest, they have placed no restrictions on us, and it seems that Hill’s actions have the potential to affect business, and JACHE is in business.” Sanda looks at Davidge. “The laboratory and autopsy reports are in and everything appears to be consistent with events as related to us by Willis Davidge and Jeriba Haesni this morning. Our pathologist reports that Michael Hill’s death was caused by massive trauma to his internal organs, as a result of his fall down the cliff.” Sanda nods toward Yamagata. She nods back and looks at each of us, one at a time.
“As I surmised, the thermal drill is not an IMPEX model. There are no chemical markers in the explosive, and both IMPEX and JACHE are required by their laws to have markers in all of their explosives. That means that the explosive is from Timan Nisak. The case itself has markings that our translation service has identified as Timan.”
Davidge frowns and says, “So, what’s an IMPEX sales representative doing in my cave with a Timan explosive?”
“Trying to kill both you and Haesni, I have no doubt,” says Yamagata. “Understand that Thermex burns with such an intense heat that there would be no evidence left at all had Hill programmed and set off the thing correctly. Either he was not familiar with the Nisak model, he was nervous, or something else impaired his performance.”
“It was something else,” declares Jeriba Zammis. “Michael Hill was no killer. Everything you have said confirms that. Some threat, some incredible pressure must have been brought to bear. What of the supplier of this explosive? What of Timan Nisak ?”
“All talmas lead to Timan,” Davidge remarks, his gaze still fixed to the floor.
Falna sits forward, looks from Sanda to Yamagata, and says, “We were told that this meeting had to do with some further questioning.”
Yamagata nods and looks at me. “Perhaps I am in error, Yazi Ro, but when I was talking with you and Willis Davidge this morning I got the distinct impression that both of you were certain that the drill was Timan.”
I glance at Davidge and he shrugs followed by a nod. I look back at the woman. “Davidge and I are implementing a talma devised by a Talman master on Amadeen and assigned to us by the Jetai Diea through Ovjetah Jeriba Shigan. The intended result of the talma is peace on Amadeen.”
Her dark eyes aim at Davidge but her face is still turned toward me. “And Timan Nisak?”
“There is a new book of The Talman,” I answer. “It will probably be published to all worlds in the near future. It describes how, under the direction of a quadrant diplomat, Hissied ‘do Timan, Timan Nisak was used to begin Amadeen’s war.”
Her eyebrows go up. “The USE-Draco War?”
“Yes.”
Mirili Sanda’s mouth hangs open in astonishment. Equally astonished are Jeriba Zammis and Ty. Estone Falna sits studying the female investigator. Davidge leans forward and raises his gaze to the woman’s face. “Since their prehistory the Timans have survived and achieved superiority by manipulating stronger species into destroying themselves. The Koda Nusinda is called The Eyes of Joanne Nicole. It has been withheld from publication for all this time because ten or twenty years ago what is in the work would have probably initiated a war of Dracs and humans against Timan and the entire quadrant. At the very least, the bad feelings would have shattered quadrant interplanetary economic and defense agreements.”
“What about its publication now?” asks Zammis.
“Enough time has passed so that its interest for most persons now is mostly historical.” Davidge looks at Yamagata. “The Timans, though, might find the widespread publication of the Nusinda very embarrassing, and perhaps threatening. It outlines very effectively how some Timans function in regard to other species as well as how far some Timans are willing to carry it.”
Kita Yamagata narrows her eyes as she says, “If the talma based on this book fails, perhaps the book will be rejected by the Jetai Diea.”
Her partner frowns. “Even if it is published,” adds Sanda, “it will be discredited. How better to make it fail than by removing those who are necessary to its success?” The investigator looks around at the persons in the chamber, and says, “This investigation, like your talma, seems to lead to Timan.”
After a long silence, Yamagata says, “This is going to be expensive.”
Sanda waves its hand back and forth. “J ACHE has placed a substantial line of credit at our disposal. I’m sure they will increase it when I include this new information.” It looks at Davidge. “May I have a copy of the Koda Nusinda?”
“Yes,” answers Davidge. “The Ovjetah asked me if I thought I should supply copies to you. I answered that I thought I should. Then perhaps it is talma, it said.”
“What about the talma?” I ask Davidge. “JACHE might fund Aakva Lua’s investigation on Timan, but what about ours?”
Davidge, unaware that he is doing so, scratches his beard. “I don’t know. You have the funds from the Jetai Diea. I must have some money on the reprints of my translation.” He looks at Zammis and both Zammis and Ty appear stunned. Zammis looks at the investigators. “May we have a moment alone?”
“Of course,” says Sanda. It bows and both it and Yamagata leave the room. I begin to follow, but Davidge restrains me with a hand upon my shoulder.
“Uncle,” Zammis begins, “you may go anywhere you wish and mount virtually any size and type of expedition you have in mind short of an armed invasion of the quadrant.”
“This might take hundreds of thousands,” warns Davidge.
Jeriba Zammis leans forward in its chair and assumes the expression of one attempting to explain something to a retarded child. “Uncle, it is this frustrating attitude of yours regarding money. Every time any of us attempt to talk to you about it, you make jokes or grow impatient and cut us short. I have tried to explain this to you before―”
Davidge holds up a hand. “Can we have the short version?”
“See?” says Zammis. It shakes its head and lets out a breath it seems to have been holding for all of its sixteen years. “The short version, Uncle, is that there are sufficient assets in your name to purchase a small planet.”
Now it is Davidge who looks stunned. “I know the translation went into its sixteenth printing, but―”
Ty reaches out a hand and places it on Davidge’s arm. “Jeriba Gothig, your friend Jerry’s parent, when it moved the line to Friendship to settle here, put a quarter of every new Jeriba enterprise in your name, a practice that all of us have continued. The port in First Colony, hotels, stores, hospitals, apartment complexes, ski resorts, toll roads, farms, airlines, spacelines, shipping, flyers, investments in more things than I could possibly recall. The businesses, investments, and properties have been managed, and you spend very little.”
“Here,” interrupts Zammis holding up its pocket computer. “Uncle, your assets right now amount to just under two hundred million credits. Your only liabilities involve bills for almost ninety-five credits in overdue lift tickets and ski tuneups that you haven’t paid.” Zammis lowers its little computer and looks at the human.
Davidge scratches his head, looks around the chamber, and shrugs. “Yazi Ro, I guess we’re going to Timan.” He looks at Jeriba Zammis, a guilty note in his voice. “I’ll take care of those skiing bills.” He purses his lips, thinks a moment, and we watch as his eyes glisten. “I remember Gothig saying something about taking care of me before it died. I wonder how far into the future Gothig could see.” He glances at me, frowns, then faces Zammis. “Am I invested in Timan Nisak?”
Zammis nods as it picks at its pocket computer. “Forty-nine percent of the stock is open for investors other than Timan citizens, and you hold half a percent of that. Almost forty million.” Zammis raises his brows and looks over its computer at Davidge. “Between your holdings and those of the Jeriba estate’s, we are the largest single alien invest
or in Nisak.”
“Why such a high percentage of all his holdings?” I ask.
Zammis raises an eyebrow and swings its gaze in my direction. “A steady twenty-two percent annual dividend.”
Davidge stares at the floor for a moment, then turns to Zammis’s child. “Ty, I need somebody who knows about money. Zammis can’t be spared from its business interests, and it’s getting a little long in the tooth anyway. Would you come with us to Timan?”
Ty sits silently for a moment, then nods. “I will come, Uncle. Thank you for inviting me to be a part of your talma.”
“I would come, as well,” says Falna as it moves to stand at my side.
Davidge frowns and looks at Estone Falna. “Do you want to go?”
“I do, Uncle.”
“Why?”
The young Drac’s eyebrows rise and then lower. “Uncle, I have gone to considerable trouble and expense to acquire the skills to treat humans. My primary motive for this was and is your continued good health.”
“I’m fine.”
“Yes, and I insist on keeping you that way.”
“Uncle,” Ty interjects, “besides its medical knowledge, remember that Falna has been to Timan, when it attended the Ri Mou Tavii.”
Zammis nods in agreement and says, “As a deputy of the Jetai Diea, Falna’s presence can add a lot of clout to your investigation. It would cut the paper wizards down to size.”
“Please include me,” begs Falna. “Give me the chance to make up for what a terrible child I was in the cave.”
Davidge laughs, holds up his hands, and grins at Falna. “I’d be pleased to have you. Pack your bags. And you were not such a terrible child, Falna. I was, and am, very proud of you.”
Falna grins, places a hand on my shoulder, and squeezes it. “Thank you, Uncle.”
Davidge nods toward the door and looks at me. “Ask the two investigators to come in.” After I call them in, Davidge faces Yamagata and Sanda in turn. “It, appears that I have sufficient funds to go to Timan. I think we are after different ends of the same rope. Will you combine your investigation with our expedition?”
Sanda raises its head and says, “I’ll have to clear this with Aakva Lua and with JACHE, but I can see no objection. I think it is an excellent thought.”
Davidge gets to his feet and faces Jeriba Ty. “I want to get cleaned up and get something to eat. Then we’ll get together and start getting this trip to Timan on the road.” He stops in front of Kita Yamagata, still self-conscious about his appearance. “Do you ski?” he asks.
She smiles and nods. “I see you every now and then at Hidden Valley.”
He says, then she says, they laugh, and he says some more and I leave, a strange touch of jealousy filling me. I am confused by it. I am not one of those who couples with humans, male or female, and I have no secret desire to try. Even if I did have such an inclination, it wouldn’t be with an ultra-hairy sixty-three-year-old male with a sour disposition who lives in a cave on an ice planet. Neither would it be with a tiny woman who jumps around on rocks like she cared nothing about her life. The feeling, though, is jealousy.
In my rooms I think on it and find my jealousy standing before me as clear as the desert sun. I am jealous of Davidge and Yamagata. They can desire, they can, perhaps, even love. Give love, accept it, risk it, trust it, perhaps even act on it. They possess emotional parts I am missing. They are complete beings and I am only part alive.
The few I desired, the fewer I loved, all dead. Over the years I turned my desire and love into staying alive, killing, and hardening my heart against everyone. Never before have I seen this as I do now: cowardice. Yazi Ro will not be hurt. All I can do now is look at someone like Falna and ache. I place my hand on the shoulder Falna touched and fight to recall the feeling.
My armor is only a shell and never before did it seem so thin, so empty.
“My apologies, Yazi Ro, but your doors were open.” I look and Estone Falna is standing just inside my greeting room door. My heart beats so hard I fear it might tear itself to pieces.
“What is it, Falna?”
“Could you come to Haesni’s rooms? I believe the child is frightened. I tried to help, but Uncle is with Haesni and he suggested you might help.”
“I?” I feel my heart slowing, disappointment settling in.
“I believe, Yazi Ro, that he said you are something of a fear expert. Haesni urged me to ask you.”
I nod my assent and follow Falna out of my rooms, trying to ascertain whether I have been insulted or complimented. Compliment or insult, it is suddenly very threatening to me. To observe either Davidge must see past my emotional armor, which means the armor is worthless. Soon those thoughts subside as I notice the grace with which Falna walks. There is a piece of my mind that would dare to imagine us making love, while the rest of me laughs at the thought of this brilliant deputy of the Jetai Diea degrading itself to rut with a piece of Amadeen trash. At the north wing of the guest floor, Falna pauses before an open greeting room door and guides me in. At the sleeping room door, it pauses and waits.
The sleeping room door is open. I enter and Haesni is in its bed, a man seated in a chair beside it. The human is in cloth clothing, tan trousers and a dark green jacket. He has no facial hair and his other hair is well trimmed. The only way I recognize Davidge is that his feet are still in those same old snakeskin boots. Saying nothing, Davidge stands, nods his thanks to me, and leaves. I walk over to the bed. Ty’s child is frowning, its gaze focused on some point past its feet. I glance at the door. Falna smiles at me, bows it head, and leaves me alone with the child. I face Haesni.
“Falna said you wanted to speak to me.”
The child’s jaws almost grind, its arms ridged at its sides, the hands flexing beneath the covers. “Yazi Ro, have you ever been frightened?”
Frightened?
I lower myself into the chair vacated by the human and land like a bag of sand. I sit there stupidly as emotions safely locked away for years bubble forth leaving me torn between laughter and tears. “Yazi Ro?” I turn my head and Haesni is looking up at me, its eyes wide. “Ro?”
I take a deep breath, blink my eyes, and sit forward, my elbows resting on my lap. “Child. Have I ever been frightened?” The tears win over the laughter. I feel them streaking down my cheeks. I wipe them away with my hands and nod. “Yes, Jeriba Haesni, I have been frightened.” I look at the child. “Many times.”
Ty’s child looks away, its face softer. “What do you do with the fear?”
What do I do with fear? “Often I do nothing with it. Fear does what it wants with me. I have nightmares. Sometimes, during waking hours, I use the fear to make me watchful. In sleep, though, I have nightmares.”
“Do the nightmares ever end?”
“I don’t know.”
Haesni’s hand steals out from beneath the covers and holds mine. “Tell me something that scared you, Ro―that scares you still.”
I think of a hundred battles, Butaan Ji and the man who wanted me to end his pain; Douglasville and the man with the flute; Stokes Crossing; Gitoh; Riehm Vo; so many. The horrors, the pain, the endless terror of it all. It aids nothing, though, to give the child a heavier burden of nightmares. There are other fears, and I pick one.
“The cliff in front of the cave, Haesni. Its height. It frightens me. It took all I could find to climb down to the bottom. I hate standing on that ledge.”
Haesni looks at me, its eyes wide in disbelief. “You are afraid of heights? Heights don’t frighten me.”
I shrug and smile at the child. “A little bit of smoke doesn’t frighten me.”
The child looks at me for an instant, and laughs. I laugh with Haesni. I stay that night next to Ty’s child, sharing warmth, bad dreams, and the night storm’s wrath.
TWENTY
Early the next morning, the sky still dark, we take the first repast, Estone Nev, Haesni, Zammis, Ty, Falna and Davidge at the table. Afterward, Zammis and its driver streak me toward
First Colony to an environmental suit outfitter near the port. From there we proceed to the port and Zammis and I meet with a Vikaan, Rotek I Hye, the representative of the chartering service Zammis hired, The purpose of the visit is to inspect a ship for the voyage. Mirili Sanda arrives after us and joins us in the charter service’s office,
Rotek I Hye is the first Vikaan I have ever seen. Tall, thin, and fragile-looking, her smooth face is set with huge greenish eyes. As with everyone else on Friendship, she dresses as though in the midst of an ice age. Nonetheless, her words of greeting are crowded with sentiments of the allegedly approaching spring.
After she conducts her search on the link, there is only one ship and crew on register and in port that is ready to depart at a moment’s notice equipped for an indeterminate stay on Timan. This seems to simplify the selection process for me. The coincidence of there being only one ship at the port, available, and fitted out for Timan bothers both Sanda and Zammis. As Zammis, Rotek, and I leave to inspect the ship, Sanda remains behind to check out the histories of ship, crew, and owner.
The ship is the Aeolus, a fifteen-year-old refitted USEF attack transport serving as a small passenger and cargo vessel. It carries up to ten passengers and a crew of four: pilot, co-pilot, engineer, and a cargo master who also serves as the ship’s steward. Although old, the ship appears new and well cared for, its hull sleek and gloss black.
The pilot, Eli Moss, is a human and I think approaching forty years, although it is hard to tell with humans. He is dark with a cap of short black hair above unblinking brown eyes set in a serious face. No taller than Davidge, he seems unusually muscular. He conducts the tour of his ship with the distaste of one allowing peculiarly endowed aliens to fondle its underthings.
The tour through the ship is thorough and quick, from the cockpit and crew’s quarters, to the cargo bay, suspension pod bay, and passenger cabins, arranged in single rooms according to human custom. The only two places we are not taken is the engine room and the captain’s quarters because, as Eli Moss puts it, “None of you have any business in either.”
Enemy Papers Page 51