Lord of Janissaries (30 page)

“You’re going to kill them all? And destroy all their equipment?”

“I certainly hope so. I wish there were another way, but I can’t think of one. I can’t even parley with them. If André knows he’s fighting me and not just locals, he’ll be a lot more suspicious. Were in hell is that wine?” He shouted for his orderly.

“You don’t look very pleased,” he said. “I thought you lived in terror that Parsons would find us and report to the
Shalnuksis
. Now you won’t have to worry.”

“Oh, boy!” she said. “And I was trying to be careful. I didn’t expect you to be able to win—”

“Thanks for the confidence.”

“Rick, this isn’t a game! If you win—when you win—will you be able to grow the
surinomaz
for the aliens?”

What is this
? Rick wondered. He had noticed her alarm when he told her Parsons might not be able to grow the crops for the aliens. Now this.

Could I manage it? Probably. I’ve got enough allies, and I can talk Camithon and the king into it provided we can import enough grain. But I can think of at least one damn good reason not to deal with the aliens at all. Why is she worried about
surinomaz
? And how can I make her tell me what she knows?

He shrugged. “Without the equipment Parsons has? Not easily. Madweed isn’t a popular crop here, and taking that much good land out of grain cultivation wouldn’t be simple. But Gwen, I’ve been listening to those legends about the dangers of dealing with the sky gods.”

Jamiy came in with wine and pewter cups. “The lady Tylara has returned safely,” he said. “She will come when she has spoken with her brother.” The orderly hesitated. “I do not think she was pleased to learn that the lady Gwen is here.”

Rick laughed. “I don’t expect she was,” he said. “Thank you.” He filled the cups. “Look, what’s got you scared?”

“I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Maybe I can suggest something,” Rick said. “I’ve given this a bit of thought, too. Try this. The rogue sun comes at six-hundred-year intervals, and that’s the only time the
Shalnuksis
have any interest in Tran. That’s roughly 1400 a.d., 800 a.d., 200 a.d., 400 b.c., 1000 b.c., and 1600 b.c. The languages are Indo-European and you’ve several times mentioned similarities to Mycenae and Crete. That’s 1600 b.c. or a little later; the rogue’s period isn’t a full six hundred years. All right so far?”

She nodded. “It’s the earliest I’m sure of. Archaeologists on Earth have violent arguments about the languages of the Mediterranean in that time period—”

“They’d love to know what we know,” Rick said. “All right. The 1000 b.c. expedition blends in with that. Maybe that’s when they brought the Celts. Then or 400 b.c. There’s no question about 200 a.d.—that’s Imperial Rome about the time of Septimius Severus, and we’ve even got Lucius’ parchments. Then about the time of Charlemagne they brought in a group, and there’s plenty of evidence for that. Charlemagne was crowned Holy Roman Emperor on Christmas Day in 800 a.d., and they must have picked up some of his heavy cavalrymen not long before. That brings us to 1400 or so. There’s not one single trace of that visit. Why not?”

Gwen didn’t say anything. Rick leaned forward to throw a block of peat onto the small hearth fire.

“We know they didn’t skip that time,” Rick said. “You told me you’d studied Tran languages of six hundred years ago. But nobody knows anything about longbow tactics, so they couldn’t have brought English or Scots or Welsh. Maybe French. The French didn’t learn anything from Crécy. Only nobody ever heard of the Swiss pike, either. Nobody knows how to make plate armor, but they were using it in Europe in 1400. So who did they bring? There’s no sign of mixed races. No Orientals or blacks or Indians.

“And 1400 is well into the age of gunpowder, but they never heard of it here. Is that reasonable? And it’s not just weapons. Magna Carta in 1215. Nobody ever heard of it. Thomas Aquinas, Roger Bacon, Malatesta, all thirteenth century. By 1400 a whole slew of geniuses had lived, and nobody’s ever heard of them. Not even Lucius, who’s spent his life digging in old documents; or Yanulf, who’s got epic poems so old there’s even a version of Homer. The 1400 expedition vanished without a trace.

“What happened, Gwen? Did somebody kill the lot of them?”

She looked up unhappily. “Les thought so. For about the same reasons you just gave. Why hasn’t there been any progress on Tran? You can’t blame it
all
on the unstable climate,” she said. “But he didn’t know. There weren’t any records in the computer.”

“But that was why you didn’t want electricity. Or anything else. You weren’t all that worried about Parsons, it’s the
Shalnuksis
who’ve got you scared.”

“Of course. But if Parsons knew where we were, he’d tell them.” She took a deep breath. “Rick, have you guessed the rest of it? Secret caves. Fire from the sky. And those epic poems about the bad luck that comes from dealing with the evil sky gods. They bring wondrous gifts but take them back again. Fire will fall from the sky, and the only safe place is in deep caves. And there’s another I don’t think you heard—about a taboo place where nothing grows, and a lake with a glass bottom—”

Rick nodded gravely. “They don’t do things by halves, do they? Atom bombs—”

“I don’t
know
. But even without knowing about Yanulf’s epics, Les thought it likely. That’s why he wanted me to run away. Hide as far from Parsons as possible.”

“And why you didn’t warn me that Parsons was going to mutiny,” Rick said. “So you’d have someone to go with.”

“Yes. Rick, I’m sorry.”

“Sure. But I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me all this before.”

“Because I didn’t know what you’d do. Rick, I’m sorry I’ve kept you in the dark, but after all, we’ve done pretty well. We have a safe refuge, enough to eat, a place for a university—I thought of starting one before you did, but it seemed better to let it be your idea. Everything was going fine. Why should I complicate matters by telling you about problems you couldn’t do anything about? And I was afraid you’d want to warn Parsons. After all, they were once your men—”

“I probably would have. I’d do it now if I weren’t about to kill them anyway.” He drained his wine cup and cursed. “If I’d known before, maybe this war wouldn’t have to be. André can’t have any love for Sarakos.”

“You still don’t understand,” Gwen said. “You have to warn him now. Rick, no matter who wins tomorrow, we’ve got to be certain the victor has enough power to be
sure
of growing
surinomaz
.”

“The hell we do. You’ve just told me that dealing with the
Shalnuksis
isn’t very smart. So we just vanish. Hide in the caves when they show up. Let them whistle for their drugs.”

“It’s not that simple,” Gwen said. “Rick, you said your university would be important to the people of Tran. You seemed to care.”

“Sure, I’d like to accomplish something worthwhile,” Rick said.

“That
surinomaz
crop is more important than your university,” Gwen said. “And to far more people than just those on Tran. It’s important to the whole human race.”

2

Rick refilled his wine cup. “I think you’d better explain that last statement,” he said carefully. “You’ve told me often enough that this
surinomaz
crop isn’t worth
that
much to the
Shalnuksis
. How can it be important to the whole human race?”

“It’s a long story,” Gwen said.

Rick looked at his watch. “We’ve got between four and six hours before the gunpowder blows. That ought to be long enough. Only this time tell me the whole story. I’m tired of trying to operate in the dark.”

“You haven’t done too badly,” Gwen said. “All right. If the
Shalnuksis
send a ship and find out there’s not been a harvest and won’t ever be one, they won’t send another. But if they think there’ll be good harvests, they’ll arrange for ships to come every year the crop will be good. Eventually they’ll have to send Les.”

“Jesus Christ. Gwen, are you still in love with that SOB?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I am. Not that it matters.” She spoke defiantly. “Don’t look at me like that. I know what you’re thinking, and it’s wrong. Rick, he didn’t just throw me out. I could have gone with him.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because they wouldn’t have let our baby live.”

“They? Who? And why not?”

“The Confederacy. They breed their human servants. Even if they’d let my baby be born, they wouldn’t have let me raise it. All their human children grow up in a school.”

“Gwen, what the hell are you talking about? Breed humans?”

“For loyalty,” Gwen said. “But sometimes they breed in ‘wild’ humans from Earth to give the strain initiative. Les had a wild grandmother, and they won’t allow more wild genes in his line. Rick, I know it sounds fantastic.”

“Fantastic. That’s a good word,” Rick said. “How long has this been going on?”

“At least five thousand years.”

Five thousand years. “And you believe that?”

“Yes. Everything I saw in the ship’s data banks is consistent with it. And look how long they’ve been coming to Tran.”

“But five thousand years? Gwen, all that time, and they’ve never made an official visit to any government on Earth. All that time they’ve been dealing with us without contact—”

“They can’t and they won’t,” Gwen said. “They don’t allow barbarians in their Confederacy. They have a stable union of nearly a hundred races. Most of those never did have periods of unlimited growth. When they run into an aggressively unstable race, there’s usually a war. They’ve exterminated some races they decided were hopelessly barbaric. As a result, they’ve achieved what human philosophers always wanted but no one really believes we’ll ever have: universal peace and order and stability.”

“If they’re so damned peace-loving, why have they kept raiding Tran? Why drop atom bombs on their last expedition?”

“The
Shalnuksis
aren’t peace-loving,” Gwen said. “They just don’t have any choices in the matter. They’re a long-lived race, and Tran is a—Les called it a family business. The
Shalnuksis
don’t want Tran industrialized, and the Confederacy doesn’t know about Tran.”

“There was a police inspector. Agzaral. He knew all about it,” Rick said.

“Agzaral and some of the other humans know. They’re keeping it secret from their government.”

Why wouldn’t there be corruption in a bureaucracy five thousand years old? “And your friend Les is helping them keep it a secret?”

“Yes.” Gwen fought tears. “Rick, it’s not what you think. It’s so hard to explain! Have you ever heard of janissaries?”

“Sure. Slave soldiers of the Ottoman Empire. Administrators, too. They pretty well ran the empire for the Turks. Taken in childhood as tribute from Christian subjects and brought up in schools, lived in barracks and forbidden to marry—God almighty! Gwen, what are you driving at?”

“What you’ve guessed. Humans aren’t members of the Confederacy, but human soldiers and policemen and administrators like Inspector Agzaral enforce the Confederacy policies. That’s why Earth has a special status—not taken into the Confederacy and not interfered with. They need a strain of wild humans to mix in with their tame janissaries.”

“Slave soldiers. Bred for loyalty, and raised in creches—Gwen, do you believe all this?”

“Yes. Why would Les make it up? Why would he say he was a slave?” she demanded. “He was crying when he told me. He said he felt like a dog attacking his master, like a traitor—”

“If they’re that loyal, why
was
he betraying them? All because of you?”

“No. Oh, maybe partly,” Gwen said. “But that’s not the real reason. Rick, he said it was important that the Confederacy never learn about Tran because—he said the Confederacy’s governing council is worried, now that humans on Earth are going into space. Some of the Council wants to knock Earth back to the Stone Age. Agzaral thinks that may have happened once already. Don’t you see, the humans are being torn apart! They’re bred for loyalty to the Confederacy, but they’re humans, too. They don’t know what to do or who to trust.”

“Does this council truly expect human soldiers to bomb Earth?” Rick asked.