Manta's Gift

by Timothy Zahn

  "A clarification first, Arbiter," Faraday said. "Are you simply allowing me to return to duty? Or are you reinstating me to the position specified in the project's mission statement?"

  "You're back in full command, Colonel," she growled. "All right? Is that what you wanted to hear?"

  "Yes, it is," Faraday said. "Thank you."

  "You're welcome," Liadof said. "Now, call Mr. Raimey."

  "In a moment," Faraday said, turning toward the pair of Sanctum cops standing guard inside the doorway. His people had stood by him when it counted. It was time he returned the favor. "You two," he ordered. "Go bring Mr. Milligan, Dr. Sprenkle, and Ms. McCollum here."

  "Colonel—" Liadof began.

  "And you three—" Faraday added, ignoring Liadof and gesturing to the techs at the control board "—are dismissed. Thank you for your service; you may return to your quarters."

  "None of you move," Liadof cut in tartly. "Colonel, what do you think you're doing?"

  "What does it look like I'm doing?" Faraday asked mildly. "I'm taking command of Project Changeling. Command authority always extends to personnel assignments."

  For a moment Liadof's eyes flicked across his face, studying it. Faraday held her gaze evenly, bracing for the inevitable firestorm. But she merely shrugged. "I see," she said. "Very well, then. As you wish."

  "Thank you," Faraday said. He gestured again to the cops; silently, they left the room.

  "But don't think this is over," Liadof added as the three techs also filed from the room, leaving Beach sitting alone at the board. "It isn't."

  Faraday hesitated, wondering if he should wait a little longer. But no. It was time to have this out. "Actually, Arbiter, it is," he said bluntly. "You see, I'm no longer just a lone, vulnerable man standing in your way. I've now acquired the backing and support of a sizable faction of the Five Hundred. You can't push me around anymore, or twist this project to your own personal whims. I have authority again, and I don't intend to give that up."

  "I see," Liadof said, sitting down in the command chair. "Mr. Beach, would you step outside?"

  "Colonel?" Beach asked, looking at Faraday.

  "Go ahead," Faraday told him.

  Silently, as had the others before him, Beach left the room. Liadof touched a switch on her control panel, and the door slid shut. "So, Colonel," Liadof said, settling herself comfortably. "You have support from the Five Hundred, do you?"

  "Yes, I do," Faraday assured her. "Signed, sealed, and guaranteed. And if you'll pardon my immodesty, with my name on the roster beside theirs, we'll have public opinion on our side in no time. Rest assured, we're going to put a stop to your private war of vengeance against the Qanska."

  "Really," Liadof said. "And how has all this been accomplished while you've been locked in your quarters?" She lifted a hand. "No, wait. Let me guess. You've just become a member in good standing of the Citizens for Liberty. Earth branch, no doubt."

  Faraday's eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry?" he said carefully.

  "The Citizens for Liberty," Liadof repeated, a grim satisfaction in her voice. "An organization which has been linked with protests and terrorist activities all across the System. An organization which no one in the Five Hundred would be caught dead being associated with. An organization which three hours ago was declared outlaw."

  She lifted her eyebrows slightly. "And an organization whose members automatically commit treason simply by the act of joining."

  She smiled tightly. "Congratulations, Colonel Faraday," she said. "In signing that paper, you've just notarized your own death warrant."

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Slowly, Faraday turned to look at Hesse. The other was staring at the floor near his feet, his mouth tight and pained. "I thought you said she never did anything for revenge."

  "You don't understand, Colonel," Hesse said. His voice was low, his eyes unwilling or unable to lift to meet Faraday's. "I did it for you."

  "Of course," Faraday said. "For me."

  "He's right," Liadof said. "I have nothing against you personally, Colonel, though I doubt that works the other direction. But as you said, you have a name and prestige that could have been dangerous, both to me and to Project Changeling as a whole. You had to somehow be neutralized."

  "Of course," Faraday said again. "Putting me on trial for treason should do the job nicely."

  "No," Hesse insisted, looking up at Faraday for the first time. "That's not what's going to happen."

  "Why not?" Faraday shot back. "Because a high-profile trial would give ammunition to her opponents in the Five Hundred?"

  "My faction has no opponents, Colonel," Liadof said. "At least, none that pose a serious threat. All that talk of dissension was simply part of the web I had Mr. Hesse spin for your benefit."

  "Maybe it was a lie when he was spinning it," Faraday countered. "But it could become reality faster than you think. Or do you really believe the Five Hundred will simply sit quietly by while you launch nuclear weapons against the Qanska?"

  Liadof snorted. "Don't be absurd. I have no intention of using weapons against the Qanska, nuclear or otherwise."

  Faraday grimaced. "So that was just another lie. How much time and energy have you been putting into my destruction, anyway?"

  "Don't flatter yourself, Colonel," Liadof said. "My priorities are the same as those of Project Changeling: to locate and obtain the Qanskan stardrive. Everything else is a distant second place. Including you."

  "And no one wants your destruction anyway," Hesse added earnestly. "All we want is your cooperation."

  "I thought all you wanted was my silence." Faraday cocked an eyebrow as another thought suddenly occurred to him. "Unless, of course, Nemesis Six really is on its way here."

  "Very good, Colonel," Liadof said approvingly. "Yes, General Achmadi will be here sometime next week, and at that point I'll need your authorization to take possession of his nuclear weapons."

  Faraday felt his throat tighten. "I thought you said you weren't going to attack the Qanska."

  "I'm not," she said. "We're going to explode them one at a time in isolated areas in the northern and southern Jovian polar regions, where no Qanska live. By analyzing the sonic shock waves and their echoes, we're hoping we can get a clue as to the stardrive's location."

  Faraday nodded. So that was the plan. A pure, reasonable scientific experiment, with nothing that could be used politically against her. Especially given that the Five Hundred had undoubtedly already approved it.

  All of which Hesse would have known from the beginning.

  "So that's it," he said quietly. "I haven't got any allies, I haven't got any illegal or unethical deeds I can hang you with, and by the time you've finished plastering this document all over the newsnets I won't even have a reputation."

  He looked back at Hesse. "What was that you said? That you did it for me?"

  "Don't be so hard on the boy," Liadof chided before Hesse could answer. "I already told you that you had to be neutralized, one way or another."

  "And the more humiliating the method, the better?"

  Liadof shook her head. "You're still missing the point. In a perfect world, that CFL document will never see the light of day. All it is is insurance against you trying to fight me."

  "Ah," Faraday said bitterly. "Of course. Extortion with the Qanska; blackmail with me. At least your methods are consistent."

  "Would you rather I have simply destroyed you outright?" Liadof demanded. "That was my other option, you know. To bring you up on charges over what you and your teammates did to the Omega Probe and have you fired."

  "You'd have lost," Faraday said stiffly.

  Liadof snorted. "Hardly," she said. "Not with my faction orchestrating the whole affair. They would have been our questions, our judges, and our results."

  "What about public opinion?" Faraday asked. "Or were you going to orchestrate that, too?"

  "Of course," Liadof said with a casual wave of her hand. "You're a popular enough figure, but let's face it:
Interest in Changeling has faded too far for anyone to work up much emotion over you."

  She considered. "And of course, all the publicity around the trial would have been under our control, too. No, Colonel. For all practical purposes, you'd have been dead. And McCollum, Milligan, and Sprenkle would have gone down along with you. Is that really how you would have wanted it?"

  Faraday didn't answer. "You don't have to answer," Liadof said. "Now, instead, once Changeling has served its purpose you'll be free to retire, collect your pension, and live out your life as the quiet old hero. And your Alpha Shift teammates will still have their careers."

  "I see," Faraday murmured, looking at Hesse again. "I appreciate your efforts to protect me, Mr. Hesse. I'm just sorry that in these past few years together you never learned that there are things I consider more valuable than my reputation."

  "If you'd prefer to go down fighting, we can still do that," Liadof offered, some annoyance starting to filter through the civilized veneer of her voice. "I can arrange for you to crash in political flames if that would salve your conscience or your pride."

  She gestured at the control board. "But right now, we have business to attend to. Mr. Raimey is waiting."

  She keyed the switch beside her, and behind them the door slid open. "And unless I'm mistaken, so are the rest of your people. Everyone; come in."

  They filed in, Beach leading the way, with McCollum, Sprenkle, and Milligan behind him. The latter three seemed rather dazed, with Milligan still blinking sleep from his eyes. "What's going on, Colonel?" McCollum asked cautiously.

  "We're back in business," Faraday told her. "Manta's contacted us and wants to talk. Everyone get to your stations; procedure is by the book."

  Sprenkle and Milligan exchanged uncertain glances, but no one spoke as they fanned out to their sections of the board. Stepping up behind Beach, Faraday wondered briefly just how much of the situation he'd been able to explain to the others before Liadof had called them all in.

  And wondered how much of it they'd believed.

  "All right, Mr. Beach," he said when everyone was settled. "Let's see what Manta has to say."

  "Yes, sir." Beach touched a series of switches and gestured toward the mike protruding from his station. "You're on, Colonel."

  "Good morning, Manta," Faraday called. "This is Colonel Faraday. Welcome back."

  There was a brief pause, and then the room again began to rumble to the sound of Qanskan tonals. "Thank you, Colonel, the computer translated. "I wasn't aware you'd missed me."

  "Some of us have," Faraday assured him, keeping half an ear on the tonals to make sure the computer was doing an accurate translation. "I'm afraid I can't say that about everyone, unfortunately. There have been some personnel changes at the top of the project. I presume you understand."

  There was a pause, and in the silence he heard Liadof mutter something under her breath. The tonals began rumbling—"I wondered about that," the translation came. "It didn't seem like something you would do."

  "Definitely not," Faraday said. "And on behalf of the Five Hundred and all of humanity, I apologize. It will never happen again."

  "Easy, Colonel," Liadof warned quietly. "You don't speak for the Five Hundred."

  "Manta?" Faraday called. "Did you hear me?"

  "I heard you," Manta said. "And I'll hold you to that. I'm here to offer you a trade."

  "I'm listening," Faraday said, feeling his heartbeat pick up its pace. "I understand you're willing to give us the secret of the Qanskan stardrive?"

  "I am," Manta said. "In exchange for help with a problem the Qanska are having. Is McCollum available?"

  "She's right here," Faraday confirmed. "Does the problem concern Qanskan physiology?"

  "Partially," Manta said. "Or at least, that's the part of the puzzle I'm still not sure of."

  "Well, let's hear it," Faraday said. "We'll do whatever we can to help."

  "Just a moment," Liadof said, stepping up beside him. "We are of course willing to help, Mr. Raimey. But first we'd like to hear about the stardrive."

  "Not yet," Manta said. "We'll deal with this problem first."

  "No," Liadof said flatly. "You aren't in a position to bargain, Mr. Raimey."

  "On the contrary," Manta said. "I think I'm in an excellent position to bargain. Colonel Faraday, who is this person?"

  "Her name is Katrina Liadof," Faraday said. "She's a member of the Five Hundred."

  "I see," Manta said; and though the computer translation didn't show it, Faraday could hear a definite hardening of Manta's attitude in the tonals. "Is she the one responsible for attacking my people?"

  "Your people?" Liadof asked pointedly. "We are your people, Mr. Raimey."

  "Not anymore," Manta said. "Colonel Faraday, I will not speak in this person's presence. Please ask her to leave."

  Faraday turned to Liadof. "Don't even think it," she warned, her eyes flashing at him. "I'm not going anywhere."

  Faraday touched Beach's shoulder. "Mike off," he murmured.

  "Mike off," Beach confirmed.

  "I'm not leaving," Liadof repeated.

  "Then you sacrifice the stardrive," Faraday said bluntly. "What was that you said earlier?—Everything else is a distant second place? Or didn't that list include your pride?"

  "He's bluffing," Liadof insisted. "You heard him. They have a problem, and they need our help. He can't afford not to give us what we want."

  "Don't count on it," Faraday said. "You've seen how clever Manta can be. He might be able to come up with a solution on his own, and then we'd be out in the cold. Now's the time to make a deal, while he still thinks he needs us."

  Liadof's eyes flicked over to Hesse, as if confirming that he and the damning document he carried were still there. Then, without a word, she stood up from the chair and stomped to the exit.

  But instead of leaving, she merely stopped beside the door and turned around. Crossing her arms across her chest, she stared defiantly at Faraday.

  And that, Faraday decided reluctantly, was probably the best he was going to get. Stepping to the command station she'd just vacated, he sat down and turned on the chair's microphone. "Arbiter Liadof has left the conversation, Manta," he said, choosing his words carefully. "Now, how can we help you?"

  "I'll start with a question for McCollum," Manta said. "Do you know anything about bits of growing message?"

  McCollum looked blankly at Faraday as she turned on her microphone. "About what?"

  "Let me think," Manta said. There was a pause.... "Qanskan... DNA," he said haltingly in English.

  "Ah," McCollum said. "Yes, I know a little. Nothing very detailed."

  "I don't need details," Manta said, switching back to tonals. "Question: Are there tiny flips in the groups-of-bits-of-growing-message?"

  McCollum shook her head. "I'm not getting this, Manta."

  "I think he's talking about genes," Beach suggested. "It's not in the Qanskan dictionary, so he has to improvise."

  "That part I got," McCollum said. "But what are these tiny flips he's talking about? Wait a second. Manta, are you talking about gene triggers? Genes that turn different sections of the code on and off, depending on growth stage or hormonal stimulus or environmental conditions?"

  Manta seemed to think it over. "Yes," he said at last. "Do those exist?"

  "I don't know," McCollum said. "I'd need to get some Qanskan genes to run tests on. But I know that most Earth species have them."

  "Earth comparisons aren't good enough," Manta said. "I need to know about Qanska."

  "How about Vuukan genes?" Sprenkle suggested. "Would that help?"

  "You have some?" McCollum asked.

  "The Omega Probe cage came up slathered with Vuukan blood and bits of torn tissue," he told her. "We've been—" he threw a look at Faraday "—a little off-duty since then, but someone must have saved a sample or two."

  "In which case, they would also have analyzed it," McCollum agreed, her fingers tapping across her keyboard. "Let's
see... okay, here we go. Let's see..."

  She went silent, running a fingertip down one of her displays as she skimmed the report. "Mr. Milligan, what's the situation down there?" Faraday asked quietly. "Is Manta alone?"

  "No, it looks like something of a delegation," Milligan reported, studying his sensor displays. "From the markings, we've got Manta, Pranlo and Drusni, and Counselor Latranesto."

  So this was indeed an official conversation. Good. If they could get this hammered into place before Liadof found something else to object to—

  "Got it," McCollum announced suddenly. "Boy, were you on target, Manta. There are a whole raft of them in here."

  "Can you repeat that, please?" Manta said. "Some of those words didn't translate well."

  Faraday frowned. The equipment buried in Manta's artificial spine should still be working, feeding him the human side of the conversation directly. Had it somehow failed?

  Or had Manta simply forgotten how to understand English?

  "There are quite a few trigger genes," McCollum told him. "Enough that you could actually get several different animals from this one single code, depending on which genes have been turned on and off. Like dog or cat variants; maybe even more."

  "I understand," Manta said. "Is there any way for you to tell what the prompting factor might be?"

  "Let me look," McCollum said, punching keys again. "Indications are that it's radiation of some kind. I'm not sure which part of the spectrum."

  "It's not microwave or infrared," Milligan offered, studying his repeater display of her monitor as she skimmed down the listing. "The energy transition levels required are way too high for that. Must be soft X-rays, maybe even something higher."

  "No, wait a second," McCollum said, her finger pausing on one of the lines. "Here's one low enough to be infrared-driven. Site 1557—"

  "Hang on," Milligan said, locating the spot. "You're right. Nuts.

  Well..."

  "Could it be all the different light-parts that are involved?" Manta asked. "The whole herd of light-parts taken together?"