Showdown on the Planet of the Slavers

by Helena Puumala

  “So it was not naiveté that Scientist Hsiss was displaying,” the First Councillor said thoughtfully. “He simply could not understand the mindset of the Space Lanes criminals. That’s what Ciela tried to tell me, but I’m not sure that I could quite grasp it in my turn. I deal with ill-intentioned humans every so often in my job; I know perfectly well that they exist.”

  “I suspect that Xanthus Hsiss has, by now, grasped that notion, too,” Mikal mused. “The Xeon Council still has trouble with it, is my guess.”

  “The Council is aware that the short-lives known as humans have among them individuals with traits that we Xeonsaurs find difficult to understand, never mind, deal with adequately,” Xoraya explained. “But we also know, especially those of us who have made a study of your people, that those traits are not present in most people, although pretty well all large groupings of humans will have at least a few specimens who display them.”

  “That’s only too true,” Mikal sighed. “Although some of us might wish it were otherwise.”

  Kati spoke up for the first time:

  “Have I got this right?” she asked. “Until you and your fellow Councillors intervened, Xanthus Hsiss insisted that the young people whom he had hired to work in his laboratory also take part in the human trials of the drugs he was developing. But you are saying that he was unable to grasp the notion of making use of a sentient being for one’s own benefit, to the detriment of the sentient’s own. Am I the only one who sees a contradiction here?”

  “Ah, Kati, thank you for not letting that detail escape us,” Mikal said, beaming. “It is rather important that we all understand what exactly is going on here.”

  “I don’t think that Xanthus saw that his insistence on having his employees take part in the trials would have been taken by the humans as exploitation,” said Xoraya. “After all, his medications were intended to benefit human beings. And when First Councillor Gorine, here, explained things to him, he did back down, as he should have. Do you understand what I’m saying here, Kati? That this very instance displays the gap we Xeonsaurs generally have when it comes to understanding humans?”

  “What she’s saying,” interjected Mikal, “is that it was his very inability to differentiate selfishly motivated behaviour from practical, benignly motivated, though results-oriented, activity, that proved to be her Life-Mate’s downfall. We humans are used to looking at certain offers with a jaundiced eye, which is exactly what Scientist Hsiss’ employees did with his request that they take part in testing his drugs. What evidence did they have that the medications would not harm them? None—all they had was the Scientist’s reassurance that he would never harm anyone, especially not his employees. And even if they believed that the Scientist’s motives were good, that was not proof that harm could not happen inadvertently.”

  “And harm does sometimes happen inadvertently,” Xoraya said sadly. “So I am not against the workers taking care of themselves by refusing to take part in trials which did not interest them. On Xeon we are very adamant about that, and single-minded though he was in his pursuit of his ends, Xanthus, too, bowed to that necessity when reminded of it. Which is exactly what he should have done.

  “The trouble was that he failed to understand what was going on, and assumed that everyone he dealt with had motivations similar to his own. When he went looking for test subjects off-planet, he most likely assumed that everyone he recruited was doing it because they wanted to see him succeed in his endeavours to bring these interesting and useful drugs to where humanity could take advantage of them. The people who offered to help him obtain ingredients to experiment with, he no doubt assumed, were doing so partly because he was paying them, and partly because they, too, had an interest in the outcome of his project. The notion that they were after their own enrichment at the expense of the comfort and happiness of other sentient beings would have been meaningless to him.”

  “Sounds to me like we’re getting a lesson in the difference between the thinking processes of the Xeonsaurs and the humans,” commented Llon. “A useful bit of schooling, one that Xanthus Hsiss would certainly have benefited by.”

  “I did try,” Xoraya sighed.

  “A lesson which Scientist Hsiss had to learn the hard way,” Mikal added. “Which is why we’re here now, trying to follow his trail.”

  “Apparently some of these people Scientist Hsiss brought from off-world insisted on learning the ins and outs of the doings in the laboratory—at least as much as they were capable of understanding,” said Councillor Gorine. “Which, I understand, was not all that much. Perhaps you should talk to Ciela about that; she was working there at the time, so she can give you a more immediate account than I can.”

  “With your permission, Councillor Gorine, we will certainly wish to do that,” Mikal said, adding:

  “May we take a look at what’s left of Scientist Hsiss’ island base? We’re hoping that there might be some clues there as to where we should be looking next. In the meantime, is it possible to get descriptions of the people who were coming to the laboratory from off-world? If any of you have translation nodes, we can do that nodally; with those who do not, a written account ought to suffice—or a sketch, if anyone is artistically gifted.”

  “Did you people lose any of your workers when the disaster happened?” Kati thought to ask. None of the workers at the Margolis’ mind-tangler lab had been Tarangayans, but that did not mean that the drug-runners hadn’t scooped up a bright young Tarangayan capable of operating Xanthus Hsiss’ equipment and set him or her, and the equipment, up, somewhere else.

  Gorine shook her head.

  “Thank the Sea-gods for that,” she said. “As a matter of fact, they broke all the complicated machinery, and left the pieces behind. I don’t think that they were interested in it. The lab workers have, in fact, been fixing the equipment, with the idea of putting it to use themselves, but we, of the Council, have been less enthusiastic about that, since we are not the true owners. We Councillors would like to know whether or not the Xeonsaurs want their things back. If not, maybe we can come to terms, and put the young people to work, again.”

  “I’ll get in touch with Xanthus’ Consortium,” Xoraya promised. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t think it was more trouble than it was worth, to come and remove the machinery. I don’t think the equipment Xanthus brought here was anything unusual in Xeon terms, only basic laboratory stock. I’m optimistic that they’ll let you have it, especially since you have staff able to use it. They’ll be reasonable about the cost, since they’ll be hoping to make use of your people’s expertise in the future.”

  “Just stress to them that it can’t be too far in the future,” Mikal said to her, chuckling. “We are short-lives, after all.”

  “I guess Gorsh’s drug-running associates really had no interest in anything except the mind-tangler,” Kati mused. “I would have thought that they would have grabbed the opportunity to develop new stuff.”

  “I did wonder about that myself,” Gorine responded. “However, Ciela and the others of our young workers pointed out that the men—and they were all men—that Hsiss dealt with, did not seem like the brightest glowfish in the water. They knew what they were looking for, but didn’t have the imagination to extend their search.”

  “But your young people do have the imagination,” Xoraya commented. “I will have to report on that to Xanthus’ Consortium partners. This could get interesting.”

  She grinned, looking pleased.

  “But if you people are going to get into some kind of a drug-developing enterprise, with or without Xeonsaur cooperation, Gorine, I really would stress the need to take the precaution of Tarangay entering some sort of an arrangement with the Star Federation to ensure your safety from lawless marauders,” Mikal said. “You don’t want to come up with useful stuff just to have it stolen from you.”

  “You have a point, Agent r’ma Trodden,” the Councillor conceded. “The trick is to get the planetary factions together to
do it. For all our willingness to drink, sing and party together, we’re stubbornly independent folk. Although I have heard that since the incidents here on Maldos Chain, the space criminals, or, at least, some space criminals, have been pulling heists on other, wealthier islands, and people are getting worried. They have begun to talk about getting in touch with the Federation, to see if an arrangement could not be reached.”

  “The Customs Officers at the Space Port mentioned that,” Mikal said. “I encouraged them, and promised to pass the word on, in Federation circles.”

  “It would indeed be wise to fast-track any plan to bring Principalities together and make a decision to join the Federation, at least in some auxiliary fashion,” Llon said seriously. “Take the word of an older man on this. You people ought to move on it.”

  “When Llon speaks, the rest of us should listen,” murmured Xoraya. “Even the long-lives should, never mind the humans.”

  The First Councillor gave her a long look, then turned her eyes on the Green Robe, and gazed at him for a moment.

  “I’ll get in touch with the Guv of Greyrock,” she then said. “But you people wanted to see the Scientist’s island. Perhaps I can send Ciela to show you around it; she can answer your questions while she does so.

  “I’ll also see about getting the descriptions of the foreigners we had to contend with. Quite a number of people saw at least a few of them, so there will be numerous descriptions. Maybe, taken all together, they will give you a picture of the shady men.”

  “Thank you, First Councillor Gorine,” Mikal said, rising. “You are a gratifyingly efficient person. We can take Ciela to the island in one of our two rented flits; there’s room enough for one more passenger. We are planning to stay in Maldosa at least overnight, so we’ll get those descriptions from you in due time.”

  *****

  The Laboratory Island, as Ciela called it, was one of the larger ones in what Mikal gauged as a transition zone. The islands closer to the main archipelago were abundant in plant life, while the ones farther out were mostly bare rock. This particular island appeared to be about half covered with vegetation, including fair sized trees, while the other half was an expanse of lichen-covered basalt.

  “Looks like this place has a natural space port and flyer parkade,” Mikal muttered as Ciela directed him to alight on the rock, close to a building which straddled the two ecosystems.

  “That’s why it was everyone’s choice for the lab,” Ciela replied. “The Scientist Hsiss could park his ship here, as well as the flyer which he used to transport us, the workers, and all the stuff that he bought in Maldosa or in Plenty. In the beginning, when he was building the lab, he bought a lot of materiel on planet, but once the lab was operational, not as much. Still, he brought in food and other necessities, and we, the workers, were ferried to and fro.”

  “Where is the flyer now?” Mikal asked. He was thinking that, if available, it ought to be swept for clues.

  “The creeps took it,” Ciela replied, clearly annoyed by the thieving. “I guess it was worth something to them.”

  “I’m sure that it was,” Mikal agreed. “Even the less than bright robbers are aware of the worth of a flyer. And without doubt, if Scientist Hsiss brought it from Xeon, it was a top-notch machine.”

  “It would have been,” Xoraya agreed. “The Consortium didn’t pinch pennies when it came to equipment.”

  Mikal grinned at Xoraya’s idiom. She had picked that one up from Kati, no question about it. Kati had mentioned that she thought that the Forest Spirit of Vultaire had ransacked her memories and had passed some of the information to Xoraya. That was how she assumed that Xoraya had picked up the speech quirks which she had begun to use. The Planetary Spirits of Vultaire had seemed to have looser notions of privacy than either Kati or the Lamanians were used to. And Xoraya, the enthusiastic student of humanity, revelled in learning to speak and behave in ways that emulated her favourite short-lives.

  Mikal put down the flit near the lab building, next to the grassy swath that separated the rock and the trees. Now that they were this close, it was clear that the lab builders had taken advantage of that verdant, but open expanse to erect the structure.

  “I understand that Scientist Hsiss wanted to leave the bare rock for ship and flyer parking,” Ciela explained when he asked about it. “Plus, he wanted the building close enough to the trees so that they would provide a bit of cover during the biannual storms.”

  “Did he live in the lab, or did he bunk inside his space ship?” Mikal asked.

  “I think that he mostly slept in his ship,” Ciela answered. “There were living quarters—small ones—in the lab, but once he gathered the test-subject/workers from wherever he collected them, some of them slept there. Some of those stayed the nights in his ship, since the lab bunking area was too small to sleep everyone.

  “Those guys all worshipped the Scientist, but they were a bunch of misogynists if you ask me. They didn’t think that I should have been working in the lab at all—I guess I should have been warming some clot’s bed and birthing babies! And I was only a kid!”

  “And way smarter than any one of those louts,” Xoraya added.

  She was gifted with a brilliant smile for that.

  “I wasn’t going to mention that,” Ciela said. “My Mum says that it’s rude to toot your own horn. But what you just said is true, just the same.”

  *****

  The occupants of the flits were met by two young men, one about Ciela’s age, and the other one somewhat older, outside the lab building.

  “Oh, Davo and Wil,” Ciela greeted them, sounding delighted. “I didn’t realize anyone was here! What’s been happening?”

  The lads looked at her companions curiously.

  “We finally got the last of the parts that we had to send for, off-world,” one of them replied. “We’ve been fixing Xanthus’ machine. It will be operational pretty soon—just in time to be taken away from us, I suppose.”

  “That may not happen,” Xoraya responded. “I’m going to try to make sure that you get to keep it. Seems like that would make sense, considering that you people are trained in its use, and obviously perfectly capable of maintaining it.”

  “Can I see it?” Lank asked. “And what you’re doing to fix it? I don’t think that I’m familiar with Scientist Hsiss’ equipment, but I can handle a lot of other things that originated from Xeon, so I’m really keen to see this thing.”

  He turned to look at his travelling companions.

  “Do you mind if I look at what these fellows are up to?’ he asked, looking somewhat abashed of his enthusiasm.

  “Go right ahead,” Mikal replied. “But if you see anything that might be relevant to what we’re doing, do speak up.”

  The three young men headed into the lab without even bothering with introductions, already deep in a discussion. Ciela shook her head at them as they went.

  “Davo and Wil have no manners,” she complained. “Especially when they’re excited about something, and being in the position to finish fixing that machine is the height of excitement to them. It’s been a long time, now, it seems, since we found Scientist Hsiss’ equipment in pieces, and him and the off-world workers gone.”

  “How long has it been, by local standards?” Kati asked.

  “Three years,” Ciela replied. “I was just a kid when Scientist Hsiss came here, but I was a bright kid, and I earned a spot on his team. Plus, I got along with him, maybe because I was a kid; Wil did, too, and he’s the same age as me. We were the two who didn’t fear his experimentation; we just knew that he would not have done anything to harm us. No-one else was quite so sure, and they didn’t want any of it.”

  “Three years. Hm.” Kati stared out at the ocean beyond the rock expanse. “I’m not sure that I can make the times add up correctly. Kerris was about twelve when I helped to free him on Lamania from the corrupt Vultairian family who had bought him. The earliest he could have been snatched from his home world would have been
less than three years ago—closer to two, I’d think, considering how much time has passed since then. And most of the Murra’s boys on the slave ship from which Mikal and I escaped, were about five or six years old, I’d say—with the exception of Murra, of course.”

  “Oh, I can make your numbers add up, Kati,” Xoraya said drily. “Consider what Xanthus was doing, and how.”

  “I was hoping you wouldn’t say that, Xoraya,” Kati sighed. “This time displacement business is disconcerting, to say the least.”

  “I think that our unpleasant unfriend was delighted with the package known as Xanthus Hsiss,” said Xoraya. “He made every kind of use of my Life-Mate’s skills. Without the least consideration as to what he might be messing up.”

  “He has to be stopped, that’s all,” said Llon. “While doing so we’ll retrieve your Life-Mate, of course, Xoraya, and the slaves that Kati promised to free.”

  “You folks aren’t ambitious, or anything,” Ciela commented with a wry smile. “Here I thought Scientist Hsiss was taking on a bit more than he could chew. You people have got him beat.”

  “To that end, if you think of interesting tid-bits about the off-world folk who fetched and carried for Xanthus Hsiss, Ciela,” Mikal said drily, “do share them with us. We are trying to figure out where we should go looking for the lost Scientist, and the criminal who holds him captive.”

  “So you know for sure that he’s still alive?” Ciela asked. “I have been worrying about that. The brutes were threatening to kill him, when they dragged him away.”

  “He’s much more valuable to them alive than dead,” Mikal replied. “We do know that he is still alive, it so happens.”

  “That’s good,” Ciela said.

  Mikal quickly concluded that the rocky parking area would not tell them much of anything useful, and he and the others followed the young men into the lab building. Ciela guided them around the premises which had been slowly put back together by the Tarangayan ex-employees in the time since the trashing.