THROUGH THE VOID the small blue-white star twinkled enticingly, promising light and heat in generous measure. Those aboard the massive, matte-black spaceship approaching that star system on an elliptical angle had been drawn to investigate it by the various communication signals emanating from the third planet of that star. The planet, a blue and green globe around which three pocked moons circled, was also ringed by orbiting drones and several spaceships of considerably less mass than the newcomer. Such vehicles were considered by the passengers of the enormous spaceship to be as worthy of investigation as the broadcasts, for both phenomena indicated the presence of sentient beings and advanced technology.
The visiting vessel, which had no insignia or identifiable markings on its kilometer-long, irregularly cylindrical hull, sailed boldly toward this so-intriguing star system. Even as those aboard contained their initial elation of discovery and began to record this event, sensors at the system perimeter were spotted, their messages and internal composition examined by probes, the mechanisms briefly prevented from performing the function for which they had been designed. Excitement grew to a feverish pitch as specialists and consultants eagerly inspected the diagrams of the sophisticated warning systems. Everything pointed to the amazing fact that the inhabitants of this star system had created and nurtured a civilization sufficiently advanced to be worth the strangers’ complete and immediate attention.
* * *
At the door of the Council Chamber, Todd Reeve, Human colony leader of Doonarrala, bowed and shook hands with arriving delegates, hopefully dissembling his most uneasy and ambivalent feelings about this wretched conference. He’d never imagined the idea of turning the Treaty Island subcontinent into a free trade and spaceport facility would come this far. The slim margin by which the colony referendum had passed vindicated his position, but the “yeas” had barely outnumbered the “nays,” and the measure had passed. So he had been forced to take the next step—this meeting of Hrruban and Hayuman officials.
Beside him in the receiving line was his best friend, Hrriss, their twenty-seven-year friendship badly strained by their current, disparate views on the subject of a free port. Todd found it very hard to understand how Hrriss should pursue a course which, so obviously to Todd, abrogated both the Decision and Treaty by which this unusual mixed colony had been promulgated.
Right now, being greeted by smiles and affability, none of the delegates would have suspected that the almost legendary friendship of Hayuman and Hrruban was under considerable stress. For the first time, they had agreed to disagree.
The visiting delegates entered the room one by one, exchanging pleasantries with each of the Doonarralan dignitaries. Todd was impatient to get past the preliminaries and plunge into the problem, which might relieve the tension that twisted his nerves and tightened his neck and shoulders. His wife, Kelly, had done her best to knead out the worst of the kinks, silently supporting her husband throughout his campaign to defeat the proposal. Despite their mutual respect and deep attachment to this planet and all it stood for, Todd wasn’t sure if Kelly totally agreed with him on this matter. She’d said all the proper things and had accompanied him and his father on their trips to all the Villages where the pros and cons were argued in open debate. But somehow, the feeling niggled at him that she was not as dead set against a free-trade port as he was.
Todd’s father, Ken Reeve, had worked tirelessly for a “nay” verdict on the referendum. For the situation represented his worst nightmare come true for Doona: an insidious expansion that defeated the initial purpose of the colony—for both species. Doona could cease to be the pastoral paradise it was if suddenly plunged into rapid commercial development.
Somehow, Todd must make that fear so real to the delegates that today’s conference would be the end of the matter. Otherwise, he might be forced to resign his position as the Hayuman colony leader, since he could not wholeheartedly accept such a change in Doonarrala.
The fact that the idea for a trade and spaceport facility originated with the Hrruban half of the colony did nothing to placate Todd’s anxieties. The original premise, hammered into the Decision—and later the Treaty—would, he argued, be invalidated if part of the planet were to be commercialized. Ironic that this whole wretched idea had come from his suggestion that they name the western subcontinent “The Hrrunatan” after the late First Speaker, as a mark of the respect and love in which all Doonarralans, Hayuman and Hrruban, had held Hrruna.
Todd and the old First Speaker had had a most unusual relationship, despite their differences of species, culture, and age. It was therefore doubly ironic that what had been meant as a sincere tribute to Hrruna was rebounding against those he had so subtly protected during the colony’s early stages.
Todd almost welcomed the discomfort of the formal, tailored tunic which rubbed his neck raw as the receiving line continued. It kept distracting him from his troubles. His thick black hair was newly cut and neatly brushed and he knew he looked well in the formal tunic, despite its constriction. He had good shoulders, a deep chest, and was tall, even for a Hayuman. Todd had never stood on ceremony but, as Kelly had said at their mostly silent breakfast, ceremony could be used to advantage. As he hoped to use it today. That didn’t keep his collar from binding his neck.
He took some consolation in seeing that Hrriss was likewise chafed by Hrruban ceremonial gear, surreptitiously tugging at the jeweled straps that crisscrossed his tawny-furred torso under the loose red robe he wore for such a formal occasion. On other, less-charged occasions Hrriss would have glanced up at Todd, a hand-span taller than he, and rolled his large green eyes ceilingward, flattening back his tufted ears to express his discomfort. But today they were opponents—still friendly, still hoping for a way out of the dilemma which obsessed both—so their normal exchanges were constrained.
Beyond Hrriss was his father, Hrrestan, Hrruban co-leader with Todd, who was as staunchly in favor of the proposed alteration of Doonarrala’s function as Todd and his father were opposed to it.
The veteran diplomat was currently chatting to the Hrruban Space Arm representative, Prrid. An old Stripe, the Senior Space Commandant stood with his hands clasped behind him, rocking back and forth, his tail tip held at a relaxed angle. Beside him, his aide, a mature and seasoned explorer, Mrrunda, stood on one foot and then the other, trying not to appear impatient for the proceedings to begin. He seemed to feel exactly the way Todd did. For all the times when, as a small boy, Todd had wished for a tail, he was glad now that he didn’t have one, for it would have been lashing nervously. On the other hand, Hrrestan’s caudal appendage was curved slightly, showing that he was at ease. The rest of the Hrruban Space Arm party were already standing near the conference table: three more officers, each with pouches stuffed with documentation.
“Admiral Barnstable,” Todd said, calling himself to order as he greeted a tall, white-haired man in uniform who resembled the very portrait of an ancient sea captain. In a face of weatherbeaten red, surprising in a man who had never been out on the seas of any planet, he had sharp blue eyes with which he now studied Todd. Hoping he passed muster, Todd smiled and bowed.
“Welcome to the Treaty Island of Doonarrala, sir. May I present Leader Hrrestan, Senior Commandant Prrid, and his aide, Captain Mrrunda?”
Everett Cabot Barnstable, representing Spacedep, was one of the more important delegates to the conference. There had been a lot of jockeying to see who would head the military Arm of Amalgamated Worlds, with its huge budget, resources, and manpower. Barnstable, possessed of a strong conservative bent and vast support on Earth, had finally succeeded. His predecessor, Admiral Landreau, had been no friend to Doonarrala. Barnstable was known as a decision-maker, a good administrator and negotiator. Todd felt Barnstable, though not entirely perfect, was a significant improvement over Landreau. At least, Doonarrala had had no trouble from Spacedep since he had been in charge—until now. Barnstable wasn’t so reactionary as to favor Human Separatism, but he was sure to support the inauguration of a base on the subcontinent; a base that would be as useful to the Hayuman Space Arm as to the Hrruban. Another point that Todd had tried to emphasize in his contentions was that Spacedep had no right on Doonarrala; had always meant trouble to the community. And now they wanted to invite Spacedep in?
Barnstable accorded his Hrruban opposite numbers a sharp, respectful half-bow, eyeing them as keenly as they did him. Then he gave an odd, convulsive shudder and frowned. “Confound it, I can’t believe it’s safe for a body to shift planets so fast. Ten minutes ago I stood on a grid on Earth, and then I was decanted on Doona.”
“It saves time,” Prrid said, lifting his upper lip in a toothy Hrruban grin.
Todd was relieved to see that Barnstable was familiar with the awesome sight of a Hrruban smile.
“I imagine you do not favor further grid installations on Doonarrala,” Todd said to Prrid, seizing the opportunity for some subtle indirection.
Prrid’s unexpectedly orange eyes regarded him, the pupil slits narrowed to a thin line.
“Zat will depend, Leader Rrrev. Zat will depend.”
“Come now, Reeve,” Admiral Barnstable said, turning jocular. “Surely you won’t stand in the way of progress.”
“If I were certain it was progress . . .” Todd let his comment trail off. So Spacedep was, as he anticipated, eager to obtain a legitimate position on Doonarrala.
“Now, Todd,” Jilamey Landreau said, appearing at Todd’s elbow, a-jingle with the tiny bells sewn in patterns on his stylish motley-colored attire. “It’s not like you to resist any change which improves this planet. The more grids, the merrier, what? Think of how many more people would come to the Snake Hunts,” he added, grinning mischievously. Then he turned to the Senior Commandant and his aide, his round face ingenuous. “Todd saved my life on my first Snake Hunt, you know. By the way, Admiral, Commandant, I represent the Grid . . .”
“Save it till later, Jilamey,” Todd said, grabbing his friend by the elbow and pushing him away from the military group.
“Oh, I can take a hint . . .” Jilamey said with mock dismay, marching off into the conference room with an agitated jingling of his tiny bells.
Todd sighed to himself: it would seem that all his erstwhile friends were aligned against him. But Jilamey was “Grid” mad. If civilians of either planet could have had matter transmitters, Jilamey Landreau would have been first in the queue. Perhaps it was as well that the Hrrubans were so paranoid about sharing their technology.
To benefit from a trade and spaceport installation, the Hrrubans would have to put down grid facilities, probably the largest feasible one—similar in size to the one they had originally used to transport their “village” in the earliest days of the Doonan colonization.
Todd couldn’t really blame the Hrrubans for wanting a free trade port. Their lack of large cargo vessels had weighed heavily against Hrruban traders expanding their territories. Of course, there were grids transporting goods among Hrruban home and colony worlds, but there still didn’t seem to be much metal-bearing ore available on Hrruban worlds for more than small two- or three-man exploration vessels. Those were hardly large enough for cost-efficient intersystem trade. Spacedep had persisted in its restrictions on the sale of Hayuman spacecraft to Hrruban merchants. On the day that the Hrrubans released information and/or licensed grid matter transmitters to Hayumans, Spacedep would lift its embargo on vessel transfers.
“Yo there, Reeve,” said Fred Horstmann, a stout man with fair hair and a flamboyant gold-trimmed tunic, an independent trader affiliated with Codep’s leading administrator and negotiator, Captain Ali Kiachif. That wily old skipper was already holding court at the near edge of the great oval table. Ali had not changed in all the years Todd had known him, except for a little more gray in his hair and beard.
Some of the lesser lights chatted quietly at the other end of the table. Lorena Kaldon, with scarlet-dyed hair and a firm, pointed chin, was a banker from one of the major Amalgamated Worlds institutions. Her presence suggested that the project was favored by the money markets, and Todd’s spirits sank even further. Damn it! Were they that certain this wretched facility would be approved? Her opposite number, Hrrouf, a financier from Hrruba, soon arrived with a pale-pelted female named Nrrena, whose limp air was belied by her scarred ears and forearms. Both were moderately broad Stripes, indicating that they were of good family.
Closely following them was Hrrin, a Rraladoonan from the Third Hrruban Village, who represented Hrruban independent traders and was an old friend of Todd’s and Hrriss’. The stripe down his back and tail was narrower than Hrriss’, and his leonine mane was much darker. Hrrin had kept his opinions to himself, so he might indeed side with Todd.
Barnstable and the two Hrruban Space Arm delegates moved straight for the conference table, to check their places.
Old Ali Kiachif caught Todd’s eye and winked as he rose to take Barnstable’s outstretched hand. It was too early in the day for a drink, but Todd could have sworn that the bulge in the old spacer’s tunic pocket was a flask. It probably contained mlada, the Hrruban native liquor and Kiachif’s favorite tipple in this lane of space. Though Kiachif had made port only a short hour before the conference was due to start, that was time enough for him to acquire “needful” supplies. Drunk or sober, the old man’s mind was sharp, never missing the chance to turn an advantage his own way, occasionally even supporting the good of Doonarrala to his own detriment. But would Ali prove an ally or antagonist? He had every reason to want better shipping facilities on Doonarrala but he certainly wouldn’t want to give up his edge on interstellar trade. Todd sighed.
Last to arrive, undoubtedly by design, was Hrrto, Second Speaker for External Affairs, currently the most senior administrator from Hrrestan’s homeworld of Hrruba. This was the first time any of the Speakers had visited Doonarrala since the First Speaker, Hrruna, had “joined the Ancestral Stripes.”
Todd knew that Hrrto, who had not always been a strong supporter of the Rrala Experiment, was under considerable pressure to make his mark at this conference. Rumor had it that he was on the short list of nominees for the post of First Speaker. He would be caught between his desire to win on his own merits and the necessity to compare favorably with his late superior in wisdom and probity. Comparisons were always odious, and even a Second Speaker from a well-regarded Stripe would not be exempt from them. The election was not far off, a fact that Todd knew would make Hrrto eager to conclude the conference as soon as possible so he could devote his time and energy to domestic matters.
Beside Hrrto, but one pace behind him, walked a female Hrruban in plain black robes: Hrrto’s aide, Mllaba. Her hot yellow-green eyes showed Todd that her deference was deliberate, but not entirely out of respect for her employer. Todd found her a curious individual. Hrriss told him that Mllaba had abstained from cub-bearing and even companionship, in her drive to advance a political career. She came from a very broad Stripe, equal in rank on Hrruba to Hrrestan himself.
Hrrto turned first to Hrrestan and Hrriss, favoring his fellow Hrrubans with his first words, then came to face Todd.
“Speaker Hrrto,” Todd said in High Formal Hrruban, bowing deeply. “You honor us with your presence.”
“Zodd Rrev, I greet you,” Hrrto said cordially, bowing slightly. Todd realized with a shock how much older Hrrto seemed. His tawny mane was almost all silver, and he moved with greater care, as if his formal red robes weighed heavily on his shoulders. “My assistant, Mllaba.”
“Honored,” Todd said.
“It is I who am honrrred.” Mllaba replied in a low, throaty voice.
“Now that all the delegates are assembled,” Todd said, “let us begin.” He nodded at an attendant, who shut the heavy folding doors of the conference room.
Hrrestan politely led Second Speaker to his designated place and bowed him into it, before taking his own seat. Hrrirr leaped up to move a chair from the row against the wall for Mllaba. She said nothing, but her tail twitched once before she draped it demurely to one side instead of sticking it through the gap in the chair back intended for the Hrruban caudal appendage.
As Todd took his seat he appreciated the irony that he now presided over proceedings in this chamber where he and Hrriss had once been on trial for their honor and more. The ultimate stake that day had been nothing less than the continued existence of their shared world, Doona/Rrala. In Todd’s estimation, today’s deliberations were no less critical. Doubly ironic was the fact that this was also his first chairmanship as Human colony leader, and he wanted it—against all odds—to fail!
He glanced around the table, meeting the eyes of friends and acquaintances, forcing a smile which he hoped would not appear inane or false.
“Friends,” said Todd. “As co-host of this conclave, I welcome you all to this vital conference. I have to tell you that I am completely opposed to the formation of a spaceport and commercial facility on the Hrrunatan subcontinent.” There was a murmur of surprise at his bald statement. “I feel strongly, as does my father and our former leader, Hu Shih, that such an installation is in direct conflict with the Decision made on Doonarrala thirty-three years ago.
“That Decision was ratified in a Treaty nine years ago, setting this planet aside as a peaceful, co-existent colony, specifically limited to an agrarian economy. To install an interstellar complex—even at the distance of the subcontinent—violates both Decision and Treaty. In light of this prejudice, I turn the meeting over to my co-leader, Hrrestan.” He nodded to Hrrestan at the head of the table and sat down amidst a buzz of muted comments.
With great dignity, Hrrestan rose, nodding to Todd and holding up his hands, claws sheathed, to still the murmuring.
“There are many good reasons why the establishment of a separate and autonomous spaceport facility on the Hrrunatan subcontinent would benefit both our species. With the appropriate safeguards, ensuring the integrity of the work here”—he waved his hand to include the Treaty Island—“and what has been so successful on the main continent of Doonarrala, many of us feel that there would be no conflict, certainly no abrogation of either Decision or Treaty in having a free trade port. We must ensure”—he paused to accord Todd a respectful bow— “that all reservations and apprehensions are discussed and set to rest.”
“With respect,” Jilamey said, standing up and bowing to Hrrestan, motions which set off his minute bells. “I really do believe that this planet is ideally suited for three separate and diverse installations. Certainly it would be much easier to conduct trade in this sector of the galaxy, expediting”—he turned to the Hrrubans—“our allies’ participation, at the moment seriously hampered by a lack of cargo transport.” Sweeping the table with a glance, Jilamey managed to subtly criticize both Admiral Barnstable’s Spacedep for its refusal to sell Hrrubans larger vessels that could handle the potential volume of trade, and the Hrrubans for refusing to reciprocate by releasing more of their matter transporters. “I will not, of course, at this point, mention the crucial need for more grids.”
“Thank you for not mentioning that, Jilamey,” Todd said, glaring at him to keep off a topic that made Barnstable, Prrid, and the Second Speaker all bristle with irritation.
Hrrestan let the claws on his right hand unsheathe so he could drum them warningly. Shrugging, Jilamey subsided, but there was the faintest smile on his lips.
“Speaker Hrrto,” Hrrestan said, “are you willing to comment on the proposed trade center?”
The Second Speaker, absently smoothing the lapels of his ceremonial robe, rose to his feet. Mllaba, beside him, sat stiffly erect, ears slightly aslant to catch every word her superior uttered.
“Hrruban trade and commerce would significantly benefit from such a facility,” Hrrto began, switching his thick hands to a firm and oratorial hold on the lapels. “Due to certain constraints”—he flicked his left ear and pointedly did not glance in the Admiral’s direction—“only a bare trickle of Hrruban goods, some urgently sought on Hayuman worlds, manages to reach their destination. Ze cost is prohibitive, and subject to priorities which make deliveries uncertain. A universal marketplace would certainly improve industry on Hrruba and open up immense possibilities for further, mutually productive manufacturing. Having discussed this possibility with Hrruban officials in all areas of business management”—he held one hand out to Mllaba for a sheaf of notes which he then brandished as proof of his efforts —“ze majority would be quite amenable to such a project. With, of course”—he held up the notes—“safeguards to protect ze existing colony and ze Zreaty Island from any commercial contamination.”
“How large a trade grid will Hrruba install?” Jilamey asked, all but physically pouncing on Hrrto, who recoiled.
“Zat subject has certainly not been discussed as yet, Mr. Landreau,” Hrrto said repressively as Hrrestan simultaneously called for order, glaring at the unrepentant Jilamey.
“What I’d like to know,” Tanarey Smith said, his voice overriding others wishing to be heard, “is whether or not the construction of such an installation will be joint?” His expression suggested that it had better be.
“That question is premature, Mr. Smith,” Hrrestan said. “The matter to be discussed is the advisability of such an installation in the first instance, not who will build it.”
“Ze Speakers must be assured zat regulations will follow zose already in force—” Hrrto began.
“Aw,” Ali Kiachif interrupted, “let’s not start that old keep-the-home-world-sacred stuff.”
“Hell’s bells,” added Fred Horstmann, “there isn’t a space captain worth his salt, Hayuman or Hrruban, who hasn’t a fair idea where each homeworld has to be.” He caught Hrrto’s outraged expression. “Well, you only have to narrow the options available, Speaker.”
“Don’t we know each other well enough now, after thirty-something years,” Tanarey Smith began, “to forget this nonsense about homeworld integrity?”
“No!” Second Speaker Hrrto leaped to his feet, the fur on his back bristling. “Homeworld integrity is not nonsense. It is ze most vital point of agreement between our two races and may not, must not, be abrogated. Never be abrogated.”
“So is the Treaty!” Todd couldn’t restrain himself from saying in a tone just short of a shout.
“The Treaty stipulates,” Barnstable said, raising his own voice to top Todd’s, “the conditions on which the Doonarrala colony is promulgated. It says absolutely nothing about that subcontinent nor the use to which it can be put. The Treaty specifies only the main continent, known as Doonarrala, and the Treaty Island, where observers are permitted and where any disputes are settled. This isn’t an abrogation. It’s an expansion.”
“Well now, I shouldn’t want to see anything violate the Treaty,” Kiachif said, somehow inserting himself into the discussion. “I seen it start and don’t intend to see it finish. How about a space station?” And he looked appealingly at Todd. Though Todd hadn’t expected such a suggestion, he welcomed it.
The delegates, all speaking at once, responded excitedly. “Space station?” “Landside free port?” “Now, wait a minute!” “I thought the matter under discussion was the use of The Hrrunatan!”
Appalled, Speaker Hrrto listened to the babble, his increasing outrage at such lack of courtesy demonstrated by the lashing of his tail.
“SILENCE!” Todd belted the word out in such a roar that there was silence, as much from surprise as to wait until ears stopped ringing. “You will all be heard in order. In order, I repeat. We may all know each other very well, but that is no reason to dispense with formality.”
Even Mllaba regarded him with respect, and Second Speaker was mollified.
“Hrrestan . . .” Todd said, turning the meeting over once more to its chairman.
Having thrown out the suggestion of a space station, Ali Kiachif was acknowledged by Hrrestan to give particulars. He was listened to politely but when he had finished, five people vied to follow him.
Discreetly, Hrrestan acknowledged Hrrin, who spoke about the benefits to the burgeoning agrarian economy which could not profitably market its surplus beyond those few traders who regularly reprovisioned at the present small, and totally inadequate, space base. More people could be accommodated at a land base than a space station; therefore the agronomy of Doonarrala would certainly benefit more from a facility at The Hrrunatan.
Lorena rose to support a space facility where the integrity of the colony would not be at risk. But, as she was speaking for bankers who would profit from either venture, she chose to fall on the side of the more expensive installation. Hrrouf, in terser language but with a thick accent, appeared to corroborate her statements on the Hrruban behalf.
Fred Horstmann wanted to be heard on the matter of the frail safety of a space station, whereas a land port wasn’t half as vulnerable and furthermore could simultaneously accommodate far more vessels and cargo at a considerably lower cost.
“Costs could be reduced even further with the use of the bigger grids,” Jilamey interjected, causing the Admiral and the Hrruban commandant to erupt in protest.
“Jilamey!” Todd said again, using his penetrating voice to cut through the rising level of peripheral conversations. “One more word about grid and you are O-U-T. Out!”
Jilamey’s unrepentant shrug was on the order of it-never-hurts-to-try.
“I don’t like gridding around,” Barnstable snapped out, his crisp voice ringing in the big chamber, “and a big one wouldn’t be any easier to endure than a small one. Brr! At least with a ship, you know where you are and how you got there.” One of his ice-white brows lowered slightly as he turned in Second Speaker’s direction. “But I would like to take this occasion, face to face, to ask the Honorable Senior Commandant Prrid and the Honored Second Speaker why the Hrrubans won’t trust us with grid technology.”
Hrrto’s eyes gleamed, and the fur at the back of his neck bristled. Todd prepared to stand up and dive in.
“All I am prepared to say is zat it is not a question of trust, Admiral,” Prrid replied. Second Speaker merely bowed to second that comment and turned his head resolutely from Barnstable.
“But will you say whether or not—if this project goes through—there would be a large grid at a free trade port?” Jilamey asked.
“No more will be discussed about ze grrrids,” Second Speaker said with such finality that Jilamey subsided. “We discuss ze advisability of a free trade spaceport on Ze Hrrunat.”
“Then let us get down to the nitty-gritty,” Ali Kiachif said. “The size of the place, its organization. Will it be jointly administered?”
“Of course!” Mrrunda said emphatically.
Ali grinned at him. “Of course!”
Hrrto grumbled out a growl, shifting himself to face the old captain. “Hrruban trade has been at a disadvantage zat would be remedied by such a facility. I am instructed to make suitable arrangements.”
So, Todd thought to himself, no reprieve was forthcoming from the Hrruban side. How was he going to delay the matter? A glance at the massive old-fashioned, long case clock in the corner of the room gave him the excuse he needed.
“Let us adjourn for lunch before we deal with details,” Todd suggested, glancing about the table. “There’s a splendid sampling of the local dishes, both Hrruban and Hayuman, for your pleasure. If you will follow me?”
Not every one of the delegates was pleased at such an interruption, but Barnstable was clearly in favor of a meal. The alacrity with which Second Speaker rose from his chair did much to sway other Hrrubans to follow his example. Hrrouf immediately sought Lorena Kaldon for a few private words as they followed Todd.
* * *
The wide marble hallways of the Federation Center were peopled by tour groups and employees hurrying to and fro. But these stood aside to allow the distinguished delegates to move freely toward the dining area. As they neared the facility, delightful aromas wafted out into the hallway. Todd took a lungful and began to relax a little. Hrriss’ jaw dropped open in a contented smile. The anticipation of food was having much the same effect on the others.
“Friends, welcome!” a warm voice greeted them from inside the doors. “I’m your hostess, Kelly Reeve. Please, come in and make yourselves at home.” She repeated her greeting in excellent High Hrruban, bowing low toward Hrrto.
Her coifed red hair ablaze in the room’s pendant lights, Kelly Solinari Reeve beckoned them inside. She was a tall woman, whose graceful athletic figure was enhanced by the wheat-colored dress and short jacket she wore. As if caught in the act of making last-minute preparations, she set down the earthenware pitcher she was holding on the edge of a long table laid for a feast and advanced to the doorway, beaming.
“Mrs. Reeve, this is a pleasant surprise,” Tanarey Smith said, bowing over Kelly’s hand.
Ali Kiachif sprang forward to greet her. “A fine day, a fair lassie, and food fit for a Pharaoh. How are you, lass?”
“Wonderful, Ali,” Kelly said, returning the old spacer’s embrace with a kiss on his grizzled cheek. “How good to see you! And Jilamey! We’re so glad you got here. I was very surprised to see no one but Barrington on the landing pad two days ago. We didn’t know what became of you.” Barrington, Jilamey’s “gentleman’s gentleman,” accompanied him on almost every trip the young businessman made. He was a combination of amanuensis, mother hen, and genie from the lamp, to judge by Jilamey’s accounts of his silent miracles of organization.
“Well, surprise,” Jilamey said sheepishly. “I got a ride on the grid with Admiral Barnstable, hands across the water—or the void, so to speak.” He winked at the Admiral, who ignored the cheeky familiarity. “I sent Old Patience-is-a-Virtue on by himself to breathe ship air and mind my parcels. He’s marvelous. So I was able to stay home and tweak a few more deals before I came up. Grids are wonderful. You only grow lovelier, Kelly.” He seized one of her hands to kiss.
“Well, your house is ready. I was up there only yesterday to check on it.”
“I am in your debt,” Jilamey said expansively.
The nephew of the late Admiral Landreau had bought a large house high on a hilltop southwest of the original First Villages, and equipped it via Codep transport ship with all manner of modern doodads, including private vehicles not specifically mentioned nor barred by the Doona charter. As for horses, he owned a few, but except for the weeks he was on-planet, they boarded in stables owned by friends. Except for the ambassadorial residences on Treaty Island, his was the only permanent home on Doonarrala owned by a nonresident. But then, Jilamey was an exception to many rules.
“Well, sit down and eat,” Kelly said, waving him to a seat. The table was laid with individual place settings, but the platters and bowls of food were intended to be passed from guest to guest. “How have you been?”
“I’m surviving,” young Landreau replied happily. “How are the Alley Cats? And Hrriss’ cubs? I’m looking forward to seeing them.”
“And they can’t wait to see you,” Kelly assured him. “They all send their love. Nrrna is minding all the children while I play hostess.”
“I’ve got a baby present for—what’s her name? Hrrunna?”
“You’re so good with them,” Kelly said, shaking her head. “You should have some of your own.” She caught herself and threw him a little shrug of apology.
“Not me.” Jilamey laughed without a trace of discomfort. “I’m much more definitely uncle material. Besides, I couldn’t spoil yours so well if I had my own tagging along behind me.”
“How is my youngest grandchild?” Hrrestan asked fondly, his voice dropping into intimate mode, as he stopped to rub cheeks with Kelly.
“Growing,” Kelly said with a grin. “She follows everything with her eyes now, and that tail of hers is positively prehensile. When she doesn’t want you to stop patting her back, she holds on.”
“Hrrunna is named for our dear first Speaker,” Hrrestan explained to Hrrto. “She was born a mere four days after he joined the Ancestral Stripes.”
“A most touching sentiment,” Hrrto said, with a mere suggestion of a drop-jawed smile. “It is good to know those so far away from the homeworld would recall him and pay such a tribute. We of the High Council all regret the loss of our senior statesman.”
To Todd and Hrriss, Hrrto’s regret didn’t ring entirely true. Hrriss shook his head, recalling that Second was enmeshed at present in a difficult contest to win the vacant speakership for himself, which likely overshadowed any real feelings he might have.
Kelly burst in to dispel the uncomfortable silence. “Well, come along, everyone. I hope you enjoy everything. Don’t stand on ceremony. I’m sure you’re famished.” She came up to Todd and lifted her face for a kiss.
“How’s it been going?” she asked in a hasty whisper as the others moved about the table to find the place cards with their names.
“From whose viewpoint?” Todd asked ironically. Kelly gave him a quick, worried look as he tucked her arm in his and escorted her up the length of the room. “Ali tried to help by suggesting a space station. Jilamey’s doing his best to irritate Hrrto and Barnstable with his constant nudging about grids. But—” She sighed as he conceded, “the majority see it as a way to improve their credit position one way or another! Even Hrrin sees the spaceport as profitable to the agricultural community.”
“Oh? A new outlet for surplus. Hmm. Well, it would be. Ooops, sorry, love.”
Smoothly, Kelly ducked away from him toward the Second Speaker.
“Ah, gracious sir,” she said in her impeccable High Hrruban, “we have the urfa pie you so much enjoyed the last time you favored us with your presence,” and she steered him toward his place and began serving him.
Then she turned her bright smile on Tanarey Smith, who beamed under her charm.
Soon everyone was seated, with filled plates and glasses, looking all too pleased with the morning’s meeting. Despite the fact that the menu included two of Todd’s personal favorites, he could find no appetite and pushed the food about on his plate.
He could hear snatches of conversations and shook his head because, without exception, everyone favored the instant establishment of a spaceport on The Hrrunat. The instanter, the better, and why wasn’t this suggested years ago?
Because Hu Shih and Hrruna had squashed that snake any time it came out of its lair.
Why wasn’t I able to? Todd thought in miserable isolation. Dad and Hu Shih are as certain as I am that such an installation abrogates both Decision and Treaty. Why am I unable to convince the others? He sighed deeply, noting Kelly’s anxious gaze on him. He smiled at her, though it was a feeble attempt, and pushed a forkful into his mouth. The food was almost cold but he chewed it anyway. I must not be the leader everyone thought I was, if I cannot protect the community from an evil I perceive as encroachment.
The jingle of Jilamey’s bells broke through his thoughts, and he saw the enthusiastic entrepreneur bumping up and down on his chair as he explained, with many gestures as well as body language, some point he was trying to make.
Maybe, thought Todd, I was foolish to stop Jilamey yattering away about the grids. Maybe if I let him irritate Hrrto, Prrid, and that bunch sufficiently, they’ll leave in a huff. Todd, my friend, think with your head, not your heart. There’re more ways to deflect a snake than ramming a boulder up its maw.
He brightened considerably as he turned over the possibilities for sowing discord. Certainly, if he insisted on discussing grids, he’d disorganize the meeting so that nothing could be accomplished but a venting of temper. He’d have to be subtle, which had never been his best suit, but so much was at stake.
Just then a stray phrase from Lorena Kaldon caught his attention.
“Once again, I want to know if this project will be open for tenders?” She looked agitated. “And who will make the final decision?”
“Why, obviously, that must be decided by the villages,” Todd said, smiling affably as if he’d been following the discussion all along.
“In this instance,” Barnstable began, joining in with a verbal pounce, “since the matter concerns more than the villages, the parent worlds must have a voice.”
Todd lifted one eyebrow and gave Hrriss a long look, which Hrriss shrugged off. That annoyed Todd even more. Was Hrriss blind that he didn’t see how eager Spacedep was to get a legal foothold on Doonarrala?
“Parochial attitudes must give way to interstellar requirements,” Tanarey Smith said, and Lorena nodded hearty agreement.
“Yes, but with both Earth and Hrruba complaining about costs already, where is the money coming from?” Todd asked.
“This project will interest independent financial sources . . .” Lorena began.
“Don’t you worry about the financing,” Tanarey said.
“All right, I won’t,” Todd said, “but how does the facility manage itself once it’s built?”
“Tariff, of course,” Fred Horstmann said, regarding Todd with surprise, as if that source was too obvious.
“Which includes a yearly rental?” Hrrestan asked in a bland tone. Even Todd regarded his co-leader with surprise at that nicely landed bombshell. Hrrestan dropped his jaw in a smile. “You did not think that we Rraladoonans would let you have a whole subcontinent rent-free from us, did you? A percentage of the annual income . . .”
Todd covered his eyes and bent his head so no one would see his grin. Maybe Hrrestan wasn’t totally lost to common sense in this matter. In Todd’s mind, however, a hefty addition to the colony’s coffers did not quite compensate for the violation of the Treaty. As it was, Hrrestan’ s remarks effectively silenced everyone—except for the jingling bells of Jilamey’s suit as, first he sank back in his chair, then abruptly sat up to cause more chiming.
“Of course,” the young entrepreneur said, beaming at his sudden inspiration, “Doonarrala must benefit from the project. But I think it’s only a matter of working out an acceptable figure. Think of all that has already been worked out here on Treaty Island so harmoniously.” He gave his arm a hearty shake, grinning at the effect on those seated around the table.
* * *
In the small reception room on board the cruiser which was describing a temporary orbit just outside the range of Doona’s most distant moon, a smartly uniformed Spacedep rating awaited the passenger of an admiralty scout ship that had just arrived. The esteemed visitor, a stocky man in his early forties with a commander’s insignia on his uniform, had a broad spread of shoulders, a, strongly drawn jaw, and sharp, brown eyes that made the rating quail inwardly when they momentarily met hers. There was something almost cold about him. His square, handsome face was unlined except for the disapproving indentations framing his molded mouth. The rating waited at attention while the visitor cleared decontam and slipped out of his pressure suit. The glassteel doors slid open one at a time, allowing him to enter the atmosphere lock, and finally to admit him to the lounge.
“Welcome aboard, Commander,” the rating said, firing off a perfect salute. “The captain awaits you in her office. I’m to take you to her.” Frozen like a waxwork, she held the pose, waiting for the guest’s reply.
“Thank you,” Commander Jon Greene said, returning the salute promptly, but not too promptly.
The rating relaxed subtly, as if the precise timing was what she had expected, and Greene smiled inwardly. Without a single glance back at the scout ship now being swarmed over by a crowd of technicians for its courtesy checkup, he strode off behind his guide.
Greene surveyed the various work stations they passed, glancing first at the hands and then at the eyes of the crew working at them. Each person, as Greene met his, or her eyes, straightened up involuntarily, and went back to the task at hand with renewed energy. As Admiral Barnstable’s personal assistant, Greene represented Spacedep command in the flesh, and expected efficiency and the stiff-backed respect of subordinate officers.
Greene himself had come up through the ranks. By virtue of sheer efficiency and drive, he became indispensable to his various superiors, working his way up to a position of trust where he was empowered to carry out tasks that required strategy and thought. By making his commanders look their best, he acquired a vicarious importance.
In time, he had managed to ingratiate himself with the new head of Spacedep, Admiral Barnstable. Greene was an ambitious man, and hoped to go higher still in time. Who knew what might await him in the future? The chairmanship of Spacedep? A seat on the Amalgamated Worlds Admin Council?
The Admiral was presently on Doona for the purpose of attending a conference to carve a Spacedep niche in the proposed spaceport and negotiate other details of interaction between the two races. The Admiral was an adequate administrator, and spoke only passable Middle Hrruban, but he was a better negotiator than anyone in the Spacedep hierarchy. Greene knew his own talents would be employed there, as an adjunct delegate, speaking for the rights of those governed by the Amalgamated Worlds Council, to facilitate Barnstable’s agenda. Greene himself was not anti-Hrruban except where the goals of the Hrrubans interfered with what was properly due to Humanity.
Barnstable recognized Greene’s talents, and made use of them on missions like this one. It was ostensibly a courtesy call, allowing Greene to visit the captain of the Spacedep cruiser, which was passing through Doonan space, for the purpose of asking her to join him at the negotiations. His visit had a sub rosa purpose: the Admiral suspected that Hrruban warships would also be in the area, maintaining a discreet distance from the planet, and Greene’s primary mission was to find out what they were doing. If they were behaving in a suspicious manner, the Admiral wanted to be informed as soon as possible so that he could take appropriate measures. Barnstable wasn’t an isolationist, but he firmly believed that good fences made good neighbors.
Greene and his escort passed into the rear of the bridge area and skirted the main dais, heading toward an alcove facing it on the left. The officers of the current watch on the bridge glanced up only briefly at the visitor and his escort. No inefficiency here. Greene nodded approval. Overt curiosity in a fleet officer was a fault.
The metal door slid away into a recess as he approached it. The rating stopped at the threshold to announce him. Beyond the door was a utilitarian metal desk behind which sat a short, muscular woman with ice-blond hair and direct brown eyes that arrested Greene on the threshold. She looked up from her desk monitor as the young rating performed the introductions. Greene felt a tingle at the back of his spine as she summed him up with a glance. A most attractive woman and, by her expression, not unpleased by what she saw. By her record, she was also a successful, intelligent officer, on track for flag rank. A good person to get to know. He smiled.
“Captain Grace Castleton, I bring you greetings from Admiral Barnstable,” Greene began very formally, approaching her. “I am Jon Greene.”
Castleton stuck a hand out over the desk, clasped Greene’s, then released it and indicated that he should sit down. Her deep eyes were frank and full of concern.
“Good to see you, Commander. That’s quick work! We only just heard the Alert.”
“Alert?” Greene gawked blankly, and the captain frowned at him.
“Yes, Alert! You’ve come about that orbiting monstrosity out there, haven’t you?” Castleton swiveled her miniature view screen toward him. On it was the image of a hovering hulk. Shock hit Greene in the pit of the stomach. The odd-shaped vessel was huge. “The system perimeter alarms went wild! Can you make anything of it?”
The outline, a long, irregular cylinder like a tree trunk, was somewhat familiar to him, but he couldn’t place it. Greene made a point of familiarizing himself with all makes of spaceships—naval, civil, and private. And he had seen one like this recently, too. He concentrated on plucking the circumstances out of his memory.
“Not the usual design of Hrruban warships, is it?” he murmured, struggling to grasp the elusive recall. With a deft tapping, he brought up the computer telemetry statistics and studied the image, trying to identify it.
“Can’t be Hrruban,” Castleton snapped immediately. “Furthermore, the ship doesn’t answer any communication signal we’ve thrown at it, and I know all the Hrruban codes. It’s heading for a high orbit around Doona. We’ve our weapons trained on it, though it hasn’t offered any overt threat. But then, how could it?” And her grin was ironic. “It’s not carrying any heavy armament.”
“None at all?” Greene demanded. “Ridiculous.”
“Look there.” She pointed at another shape on the screen, so far in the background that it could have been painted on the starry backdrop. Statistics, expressed in hot yellow numbers, inscribed themselves on the screen around it. “See? There’s the biggest registered Hrruban ship, armed to the nines, right where the Admiral thought it’d be. That one set off my weapons sensors all right. High-grade radiation, well-shielded but still detectable. Bastard’s not supposed to be there, but I guess they don’t trust us completely either, with one of their High Council members down there. The way they’re hanging off the stranger, they don’t know where it came from, either.”
As if in corroboration of Castleton’s assertion, the intercom rang through. “The commander of the Hrruban ship,” a voice said.
“Put him through.”
The images faded, to be replaced by the face of a middle-aged Hrruban. “Zis is Captain Hrrrv. Your other ship refuses to answer our hails.”
“Captain Castleton here. It’s not one of ours. Can’t you identify it for us?” she asked pointedly.
“One cannot identify what one has never seen beforrre!” the Hrruban said, snapping his jaw shut.
“Then, something new? A Doonan dreadnought built in secret? It would be within their philosophy to build a ship without guns,” Greene murmured softly, knowing he was not in the intercom’s audio range. The instant he realized that Captain Castleton had heard it and was glaring at him, he gave her a facile smile as if he’d meant to be facetious. Castleton was not stupid and, while she couldn’t express political opinions, from her expression it looked as though she might entertain pro-Doona leanings.
“I doubt that very much,” she said drily. “Doona has no heavy-metals resource to produce a ship that big, much less a space dock that could construct one.”
“Then where is it from?” Greene asked. His inner agitation increased.
Of all the possibilities he could have anticipated in coming to Doona for this conference, the incursion of another alien race was not one of them. Another race of aliens becoming involved in the already complicated political dance between the Humans and Hrrubans would not please Admiral Barnstable. A new variable in the equation would be the last thing he wanted. And the faint familiarity Greene felt for the ship on the screen plagued him.
“I’d sure like to know,” the captain replied, staring at the screen, “but I’m rather short on answers, and I’ve initiated all the approved procedures for contact. Captain Hrrrv, shall we pool our readings?”
“You have obtained some, Captain?”
“I’m seeing the same thing you are, Captain.” Castleton shook her head slowly from side to side. “Science Officer, have you anything to report?”
“Proceeding with routine scans, sir.” Even over the intercom, his voice held little expectation of success.
The outline of the massive ship, Greene decided, attracted the eye. It was such a peculiar shape. A central tube pierced through an almost globular center section. From the upper and lower parts of the tube, smaller clusters sprouted, almost like tumors in a tree. It looked harmless, but then so did a land mine, he mused.
“We have life-form readings, sir,” the science officer reported. “But, sir,” he added, “I think there must be something wrong with our instrumentation or the stranger is somehow scrambling them.”
“How so, mister?” Castleton asked.
“Too big. Neither Humans nor Hrrubans grow ’em that size, sir.”
“Captain Hrrrv, do your life-form readings concur with ours?” Castleton asked. “Patch readings through to Captain Hrrrv.”
The next moment Hrrrv nodded solemnly.
“Let us report the presence of zis vehicle and its anomalies to our superiors immediately. Over and out.” As soon as the Hrruban’s image had faded, Castleton called for her communications officer. “Get Admiral Barnstable on the horn.” She frowned as Greene raised a hand for her attention. “Belay that. Yes, Commander?”
“He’s in the middle of a conference with a number of civilian officials, Captain.”
“Noted, Greene,” she said crisply, but she smiled to take the sting out of her brusque reply. “Use Command Code, Barnet.”
* * *
“Admiral Barnstable,” the Treaty Island aide said in a low voice, bending down to the Admiral. “Message from Captain Castleton, Command Code.”
The old man looked around for the audio pickup. “Can you pipe it in here, son? Don’t care to leave present company even for a Command Code!” He gave a snort. “Whatever is up Castleton’s nose now?”
“Admiral?” A woman’s voice, sounding agitated, echoed from the satellite feed. The pickup was audible only to those nearest the Admiral.
“Yes, Captain. Nice to hear from you. Something go wrong between you and my envoy?”
“There’s a matter of extreme importance . . .”
“Well, Grace, spit it out,” the Admiral ordered.
Her words pinged crisply from the speaker. “There’s an intruder, a huge ship beginning entry into distant orbit around Doonarrala. I’ve never seen anything like it in space before. It’s seven times the size of Spacedep’s largest flagship! Captain Hrrrv can’t identify her, either. I’d appreciate it if you’d come upstairs and take a look, sir.”
With this information, those who heard erupted into surprised protest and consternation. In a few seconds, everyone knew the substance of the message. Second Speaker glared nervously around him, as if expecting the intruder to appear in the room. A young Hrruban wearing the single bandolier belt of a Treaty Island employee ran into the room and slid to a kneeling position on the polished wooden floor beside Hrrestan. The aide began to whisper urgently in the leader’s ear. Hrrestan’s eyes narrowed, and he rose to address the gathering.
“That was confirmation, my frrriends, if we needed it. An unknown ship of great size entered our system over three hours ago, and it has made full orbit. Ze space centers are on rrrred alert. Until we know more, I think we may consider zat we are being invaded.”
“Why do we have to assume,” Todd asked in a low, angry voice as he and Hrriss ran for the nearest comlink terminal in the corner of the room, “that we’re being invaded just because it’s a strange ship.”
“Because it’s big,” Hrriss murmured, inserting his sleek body into the chair before Todd could, “and no one recognizes it.” His long fingers flew over the keys, his partly bared claws clacking. Using an entry code, Hrriss hooked directly into the computer net used by the three Doonan space centers. Panting, Ali Kiachif peered over his shoulder.
“That,” Todd exclaimed with awed respect as the scan started, “is truly one big mother!”
Castleton hadn’t exaggerated: the stranger was approximately 7.4 times the size of a Spacedep flagship, and of no configuration Todd had ever seen before.
“Do we classify zis scan?” Hrriss asked, his talons flexing slightly in and out over the keys.
“Let’s just hope that we’re not too late,” Todd said, “and that someone isn’t linking into the net right now. We don’t need a panic. Classify it, need-to-know clearance only.”
“Just what I was about to suggest,” Admiral Barnstable said, dropping a hand on Todd’s shoulder.
“Hrrestan?” Todd looked up from the screen to his co-leader. Barnstable might suggest but he was outside his jurisdiction right now. Hrrestan nodded agreement, and pulled Barnstable back a little way.
“Ze knowledge will become common soon enough,” Hrrestan said with a little sigh of regret. “It is for ze leaders to preparrre others to receive it. In ze meantime, we will be gearrring ourrselves frrr whatever may follow.”
“And if the intruder is hostile! Who will protect us?” other delegates demanded. Kelly stood, watching, her arms wrapped around herself but showing no sign of fear.
“Zere is no need to assume ze worrst,” Hrriss said resolutely, echoing Todd’s feelings, “before all facts are known, is zere?”
“We don’t have to assume,” Todd added, supporting Hrriss, “that a stranger, any stranger, comes only with hostile intent.”
“That big?” Tanarey exclaimed. “What else could it have?”
“I’ve got a fully armed ship on alert upstairs,” Barnstable was saying at the same time. “It’s ready in case of any emergency.”
“We don’t know if we have an emergency yet, Admiral,” Todd said. “We have a visitor, not a proven enemy. Hell, it isn’t shooting at us, is it?”
“Enough of this,” Barnstable said firmly. “I want to see this mystery visitor”—he shot Todd a sardonic look—“with my own eyes. I’m going up to the Hamilton immediately. As head of Spacedep, I need to be where I can make informed decisions as soon as sensor data are received and analyzed.”
“As planetary administrator,” Todd said instantly, “I need to be on hand for any decisions that affect Doonarrala.”
Barnstable gave him a long, measuring look, then nodded his head sharply once.
“Zis surprise arrival affects more zan just Rraladoona,” Hrrto said promptly. “I must be present, as well.”
“I go, too,” said Hrriss, glancing at Todd, who nodded agreement. Their estrangement over the spaceport was momentarily forgotten in this new crisis.
“I must accompany the Speaker,” Mllaba said, glaring at Hrriss as if he had usurped some prerogative of hers.
“Hrrubans on a Spacedep military ship?” Barnstable said with sudden pompous suspicion.
“Zese are exzraordinary circumstances,” Second Speaker said urgently, his tense stance suggesting he would brook no refusal. “I wish to see what you see when you see it. We will coordinaze wiz ze Hrruban ship from zere.”
“Dammit, very well! Come along! But let’s get a move on!” the Admiral barked.
“We don’t know that anything’s wrong, love,” Todd whispered to Kelly as he gave her a quick farewell hug. “Don’t panic when there’s no need.”
Kelly let her head rest briefly on his shoulder, as if memorizing his touch and scent, then pushed herself firmly away. “I’ll wait with Nrrna and the kids.”
“Thata girl,” Todd said almost flippantly. “Don’t I always come back to you?”
Nearly giving way to the very panic he had mentioned, she caught herself in time and said, “Just don’t take any unnecessary chances.”
“Me? Never!” He gave her his most charismatic grin and then turned back to the emergency before him. “Ali, I believe that the Admiral’s shuttle is already on the Hamilton. Can you get us another one?”
“No tussle, trouble, or toil there,” the Codep captain said, cheerfully, “providing we don’t get shot out of space on the way. Follow me, all.”