by John Brunner
‘Chief, I —’
‘Get out, Roald. Take the rest of the day off and think about it. And you’d better come to the right conclusion!’ Know thyself! I didn’t look up at the huge letters over the entrance to the Bureau, but I could feel them burning into my nape as I crossed the street, randomly wandering away into the city. I’d believed that I did. I’d thought of myself as a happy, well-adjusted person, doing a good job and doing it well, enjoying but not obsessed with the pleasures of life, having enough friends, enough girls…
Yet Tinescu was right. And he’d picked the only possible moment to tell me the truth: the time when I was so disgusted with my own gullibility that I’d found the resolve needed to alter the whole basis of my existence.
The bastard. But it was as well he’d seized the chance.
Take over the Bureau? Could I? Did I want to, even if I could?
Yes. Only in a negative sense, though. It wasn’t so much that I had the ambition to hold the chief’s post; more, it was that I no longer felt content to go on as I had done.
I’d been planning to marry, raise some children, stabilize my life for ever under a load of personal responsibility; the only other move I’d envisaged was one late in life, perhaps to a university where I’d lecture in Viridian sociology and leer at the fresh young female students from the window of rooms like Micky’s at Cambridge. Or, conceivably, I might have gone for a while to some formal diplomatic post, been nursed through a tour by underlings and gone home with a glow of empty satisfaction.
Ach! Now these half-hearted ideas made me want to throw up!
I was furious with everyone: with Tinescu, for confronting me with a choice I didn’t feel fit to make, I was so confused; with the League for bringing back a kind of violence I’d hoped Earth was cleansed of for ever; with Patricia most of all.
I was dismayed to find I hated her so much I wanted to visualize her in the impersonal setting of a hospital ward, while the orthopsychists rebuilt her mind to a sane, safe, stable pattern.
I didn’t any longer want safety and stability. It was time I made some mistakes, even if I had to pick up the pieces myself. It was time I did something to test myself, to find out what I could do if I was driven to the utmost.
Accept Tinescu’s offer? That was demanding enough, surely – first, cramming myself with two years’ worth of data on alien contact, knowing I’d have to be able to argue with specialists boasting fifty years’ experience; then sorting out the friction which would develop among the staff, making them recognize that I was in charge; and, of course, working out Micky’s marvellous programme over its long-term span …
No.
It wasn’t right. It was a challenge, but not the challenge I wanted. I’d already thought of something better. I frowned for a long time. Going to Regulus with a zoo ship – was that it? No, what challenge in offering oneself as a passive object of scientific study?
Yet I did want to get off Earth. It seemed bland and sickly to me now; I’d thought of Patricia as embodying its delights, and —
That’s it.
How in the galaxy I’d failed to realize this before, I was never able to explain. I’d dismissed it; refused to take it seriously ; come near to forgetting it. And it was exactly the answer I was looking for.
I took from my pocket a little card bearing an address. I went straight to the address. When the door was opened to me I put my shoulders back, drew a deep breath, and said, ‘I’ve come to apply for the post of Chief of Bureau which you offered me.’
26
Kay Lee Wong stared at me as though unable to believe her ears. She was wearing another of her mannish cape-and-breeches outfits, but dark green instead of red, and her face rose like a pale golden flower out of leaves.
At last she said, ‘But – but I thought you’d hate us so much you’d never … Oh, come in, come in! This is the most wonderful news!’
I had been going to ask what she meant, when the clock on the far wall of the room caught my eye. I said incredulously, ‘Is it after sixteen already?’
‘Yes, I’ve only just got back from your Bureau. Sit down, please! Roald, I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re going to accept!’
I must have wandered, lost in thought, for hours on end. Well, it wasn’t so surprising; I shrugged and went back to the question of a moment ago.
‘Did you say you thought I’d hate you? You mean Star-home?’
‘Well, after what we did to you …’ She bit her lip. ‘I mean your girl-friend Patricia. It was our doing, wasn’t it?’
‘It was much more my own,’ I said. And then, after a pause, ‘What were you doing at the Bureau?’
She seemed unable to meet my gaze. Eyes roving everywhere, she said, ‘I was talking to someone I think you know, a young man called Micky Torres. And because of what he’s been saying I’ve realized – look, let me begin at the beginning.
‘I’m not a courier who came here to escort the Tau Cetians. And the tour of recruiting stations I’ve been doing for the last week was a cover for my real job. I was sent because it was decided that a half-pint girl was the last person you’d expect to be a spy or a saboteur.’
I said slowly, ‘Not recruiting stations. Local chapters of the Stars Are For Man League.’
‘Right.’ There was bitterness in her voice. ‘You must understand, Roald, how much we resented being treated by Earth as a sort of planet-sized sociological experiment. At first that’s all we were. But when we started to do things like visiting Tau Ceti, discovering the people there, and building starships of our own, superior to anything you have, we began to wonder how long this had to last.
‘It’s nothing new. Micky Torres has been explaining it to me. In the eighteenth century when this country – America, as it used to be – was a colony of Britain, it broke away from its old rulers and went on to become one of the greatest world powers in history. We saw the parallel, back home, and we thought this was the only way the process would work. We laid plans to force a break and make you acknowledge our independence. The League was only the – the hors d’oeuvres. You’ve no idea how much trouble and ingenuity was spent on fomenting crises here. We planned to give you so much to handle in your own back yard you’d have to cede us our independence.
‘And what did it all go for? For nothing.’ She turned her big sad eyes on me last. ‘Because your friend Micky Torres has spent the whole day showing me the arrangements you’ve already made to give Starhome not just its freedom but its head, to do as it likes. Roald, I never imagined such generosity – and before we’d asked for it, too. I’m ashamed. That’s the truth. I’m ashamed of the things I was going to do.’
‘How did they find out about you?’ I said.
‘I don’t know. They just quietly shadowed me the whole time I was touring the League chapters, and then today a polite policeman came and said would I please come to the Bureau and – and that’s all.’
‘It figures,’ I nodded. ‘Having a few people in positions of influence at Starhome, who know the full details in advance – that’s a sensible precaution. Kenekito-madual, as it were.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Never mind. A Regulan term I learnt recently. Seems to fit the situation very nicely.’ I leaned back in my chair. ‘I can very well see how you didn’t anticipate this treatment, of course. Out at Starhome, your society is disciplined, tightly organized and aggressive. It had to be, to turn you from a struggling colony into a new world. But on Earth, you see, we didn’t start with the basic idea of co-operation. We had to learn it, very painfully, and came near to wiping the whole race out before we absorbed the lesson.
‘Perhaps there’s a kind of evolution among planetary societies, too. Starhome, founded on the idea of achievement through co-operation, will take over where Earth leaves off after millennia of achievement through competition. And after all, the greatest single co-operative effort in our history has got to go into the next couple of generations.’
Kay was s
taring out of the window over the city. She said, ‘I only hope my people will understand it was strength, not weakness, which brought you to this decision.’
A memory came to mind. I said, ‘I was talking to Anovel the other night – the Regulan who was in the rocket which crashed. The League seems to have sabotaged it in order to kill him. Since then, another fanatic had tried to murder him under the guise of making some lab tests on him. But his reaction was this – he said approximately, “When one is invulnerable, one can afford to be detached about such things.” In a sense, Earth is invulnerable here. We’ve made such a contribution to human history, nothing can take it away.’
‘I wonder how far we’ll go,’ she murmured absently.
Yesterday, savages hunting through forests, hiding in caves. Today, intermediaries between races under half a dozen suns. Tomorrow —?
We sat for a long time in silence. Finally I got to my feet.
‘Well! How would you like to help me celebrate my new job?’ I exclaimed.
‘I’d like it fine.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘If you don’t mind my celebrating the independence of Starhome while you’re doing it.’
And somehow it turned into a very long celebration indeed. I was still recovering from it on Monday morning when I walked into Tinescu’s office. I was wearing a new outfit Kay had bought me – a cape and breeches in black with a narrow silver stripe, much more dashing than the kind of thing I usually chose – and I must have had an expression which signalled the change which had taken place in me.
Tinescu stared at me. He said, ‘Roald, I’ll be forever damned. You’ve made your mind up about taking over my job.’
‘Yes.’ I dropped into the guest-chair. ‘I’ve decided I’d like to be a Chief of Bureau. So I’m turning down your offer.’
I’d often wondered whether anything ever found Tinescu at a complete loss. This did. But it wasn’t for long. His eyes grew round and his lips pursed in a silent whistle.
‘Roald, you have more sense than I have. You’re going to Starhome. Name of disaster, you’re going to Starhome and I’m a thick-headed foggy-minded —!’
He lapsed into Rumanian. When he got his self-control back, he came around the desk, clapped me on the back, laughed, swore again and strode back to his own chair.
‘How I came to overlook it I shall never know. What’s the point of putting the best available man into this Bureau when we’ve already agreed to hand over control to the Star-homers as fast as possible?’ He laughed again until he had to wipe his watering eyes. I found myself hoping I’d acquire that facility to mock my own shortsightedness.
‘What kicked you into it, anyway?’ he demanded suddenly. ‘Going to marry the Starhomer girl on the rebound, hey?’
Might be a good idea, at that … But outwardly I matched his sarcastic tone. ‘Chief, you know as well as I do people don’t marry on Starhome. They have cohabitation contracts.’
‘Mph. Excellent idea in theory – makes sure the children have a stable home. But always sounded cold and clinical to me. Well! How are we going to tackle this? Strictly, you won’t be fit for the job till you’ve done this stint in alien contact I was going to insist on if you stayed here; however, the first job of the Starhome BuCult is confined to human relations – this programme of Micky’s – so you can tackle the rest when the new bureau is being staffed up in a few years from now. Suppose we call on Charisse Wasawati, shall we? She can handle your job provided we haven’t upset her too much by complaining that she failed to monitor her technical assay data from Starhome. Matter of fact, why shouldn’t you just exchange jobs for the time being? No point in making a public announcement about a rival bureau till Micky’s got his plans properly under way. Yes, we’ll post you out as pro-tem. relief comptroller, I think. Have to take a few of the staff out there into our confidence, of course…’
He had it cut and dried within ten minutes, but I was still impatient. There was someone else I had to go and see, and ask some very very important questions of.
He was at home. Like Tinescu, I had the impression he was waiting for me. His room was in the staff quarters of the Ark, for he needed no special provisions to make life tolerable. Over the annunciator his voice was soft and emotionless.
‘Good morning, Roald. How nice of you to call. Come in.’
I entered the room. Anovel was perched on a Regulan stool, his feet resting on the floor behind him, watching a TV screen on which a newscaster was just announcing the dissolution of the Stars Are For Man League for complicity in murder and attempted murder.
‘May I finish watching the programme?’ he murmured. ‘There is to be an interview with your Minister of Extra-Terrestrial Affairs.’
‘Please! I’d like to see it myself.’ I moved as quietly as I could to take one of the chairs he kept for human visitors.
Capra came on the screen within seconds. He didn’t address himself to the interviewer, but turned to the camera and spoke directly to the mass audience.
‘Yes, I’m very glad the League is to be banned. And I don’t say that only because they’ve stooped to crimes I never thought we’d see on Earth again. I’m glad for the sake of the other people – other people, regardless of their bodily form – who have so much to offer us in fields like psychology … and biology … and whom the League regarded as nothing more than animals. You may have seen their propaganda.’ He held up something I recognised: the cartoon I’d found in my conveyor box the morning the Tau Cetians arrived. ‘Robbing the store of human knowledge! Nonsense! I’m sure there are people listening to me who owe their lives to what the Sigma Sagittarians have taught us about genetics and the artificial manipulation of cells, and there may be some too who —’
Anovel’s blue hand fell to the switch, and he uttered a sound like a sigh.
‘Yes, Roald?’ he said, swivelling around to face me.
‘The other night,’ I began carefully, ‘you told me something about Regulans which – according to Indowegiatuk – you wouldn’t have said without a purpose. She concludes from this that you’re no mere tourist travelling by zoo ship because that’s the easiest way. She says you’re a kenekito-madual.’
‘This is a self-defining truth,’ Anovel agreed.
‘Everyone concerned with Regulan contact work is now beating his brains out trying to decide why you should have been sent here to divulge this particular kenekito. I think they’re on the wrong track. It seems logical to me that there are two sides to your job. As well as divulging crucial facts, a madual must presumably also acquire them.’
‘Proceed. So far your logic is flawless.’ There was a ring of irony in the words. I took a deep breath, for here was where I really went off the deep end.
‘After you left Jacky Demba’s party, Helga Micallef called you “a lovely piece of design”. More recently, my chief – Tinescu – commented that you were tailor-made for interstellar colonization because of your amazing adaptability. In fact, everyone up to and including Indowegiatuk thinks that it’s you, rather than we, who should have invented starflight and why the hell didn’t you? So far, the custom has been to dismiss the problem as anthropocentric, and attribute to you ideals which don’t include that line of development.
‘But then it occurred to me to wonder what would have happened if the Tau Cetians had built starships before we contacted them, and discovered men at Viridis without learning of the parent society on Earth.’
Anovel listened, blue head on one side, like a statue.
I chose my final words with care. ‘There’s only one explanation. You should have developed starflight. You did develop starflight. Therefore you’re not a Regulan at all. You’re a colonist.’
The typical sad-looking smile quirked Anovel’s lips. ‘Continue!’ he invited.
‘You want more? Very well. You were tailor-made for interstellar colonization. No single world could evolve such an adaptable species. You’re an artificially created optimum life-form.’
Anovel was still apparently w
aiting for more. I cast about in my mind, and suddenly I thought I had it. I said, ‘Have you decided it’s time for us to know?’
‘Not quite. Not quite yet. As you surmised, though, I am here to gather facts, and what I’ve learned suggests that the event will take place well within your lifetime. I’ve detected a subtle change in the content of your broadcasts lately, which indicates that you of Earth may be preparing to cede supremacy to Starhome. If you’re capable of doing that without hysteria, you may well be capable of accepting the existence of a race which has had starflight for fifteen thousand years.’
‘That long?’ I whispered. ‘Why – I’m amazed you can treat us the way you do!’
‘Oh, we have great respect for you. We’ve come further than you have on our own, but you’ve reached your present level faster than we did. Together, we should make an impressive combination.’
‘Where did you come from originally?’
‘A long time ago, we evolved around a star you can’t see from Earth – it’s buried in the Milky Way.’
‘How is it we’ve never met any of your ships? I don’t mean in space – that’s an astronomical coincidence. I mean visiting Regulus.’
‘Until the madual think it wise, no more of our ships are calling at Regulus. Not that this worries us – I told you that our concern is to add the next dimension to our intellect, as it were. Doing things, going places, belong to an earlier day. But of course other colonies have other goals – perhaps as far from ours as the Starhomers’ are from the Viridians’.’
‘How many of them?’ I demanded.
‘Many hundreds.’ But this didn’t seem to interest Anovel much; he shifted on his stool and eyed me curiously.
‘In a sense you’re madual yourself, you know. At any rate you fit our concept more closely than any other of your species I’ve met. I think your kenekito concerns the matter I referred to just now – transfer of dominance to Starhome. Am I right?’