O Pioneer! (24 page)

"Nothing," Tschopp said while Giyt simultaneously said:

"I'm the mayor here. I've got something important to say to Dr. Patroosh."

"Oh," said the woman, peering down at his face. "Yes, I've heard of you."

"Then help me—"

But she was shaking her head. "I do not think I can," she said. "We're here to represent our whole planet, Mr. Giyt; we can't get involved in local disputes like this recall question. Dr, Patroosh shouldn't talk to you at all, and neither should I."

XXIII

This is your overnight weather report. Farm areas west of the central massif will experience occasional showers, growing heavier by daybreak. East of the massif, upper levels, possible showers and windy; at town level, partly cloudy with a high of twenty-four degrees; near shore, warmer but dry. The polar station has a 90 percent probability of a major snow event, as the hurricane which narrowly missed the islands has moved north by northeast and appears to be joining a circumpolar low, possibly creating near-blizzard conditions.

—
TUPELO WEATHER SERVICE

Evesham Giyt wasn't in the habit of taking no for an answer; especially when the no came from someone other than the person he wanted to ask. Although it was the middle of the night, as soon as he got home he tried calling Dr. Patroosh. She didn't answer, neither on her personal access code nor the one for the house she had been assigned. When the fourth or fifth call wasn't answered he put his clothes back on, called for a cart, and had himself driven over to the house. It was as dark as all the others around it, both human and eetie, and no one responded to his knock.

Frowning, Giyt went home again. There had to be a way to reach the Earth delegate, but what was it? With Rina softly snuffling—you couldn't call it snoring—in the next room, he sat down at the screen again.

There wasn't much for him there, either. When Giyt tried to access the polar manufacturing program again, he once again got the manual control legend.

That was highly improbable. It was also what he had more or less expected. Something was definitely fishy at the polar factories, and try as he would he could not find a way into the mystery.

The answers were either on Earth or at the Pole itself. Going to Earth wasn't an option, if only because his departure would be a victory for Hoak Hagbarth. Should he go to the Pole, then? When he checked the schedules he found the suborbital rocket was on the island, due to return to the Pole the next day. He could bully his way onto it as mayor, he thought.

But he wanted to know what was happening on Earth, too.

It didn't take Evesham Giyt long to find an answer to that. He set about creating a super-scout, the most complicated of his career, to sniff through the entire net until it found just what Hagbarth and his gang were up to.

It took time. It would take more time than that to produce any data that would be any use to him; he encoded it to go to Earth in the next transmission, but then, even after it had found out what he wanted to know—if it did—it would have to wait for another transmission to report back to him.

At least it was a tangible step. When weariness finally drove Giyt to bed he felt he had accomplished something.

Dawn was lightening in the east when the din of Kalkaboo fireworks woke him. They seemed louder than usual; some of them must be expiating particularly nasty sins, Giyt thought, maybe to impress the delegates from their home planets. By the time he was dressing after his shower the noise had stopped, the sun was well and truly up, and Rina stuck her head in their bedroom to remind him that there was a note on his screen. The Centaurians were arriving.

Giyt had more or less got used to the arrival of these foreign dignitaries without quite knowing what was going to happen at any of them. Each was different. This time, although it was hardly more than dawn, what looked like every Centaurian on Tupelo was there before him. in the first rank he recognized Mrs. Brownbenttalon and her newly elevated daughter, Mrs. Whitenose. There might have been others he knew, but he couldn't pick them out in the mass of several hundred of the great females, with their smaller males and young romping around among them. When they saw Giyt they made way for him to join the other mayors in the front row, but he detoured as he caught sight of Hoak Hagbarth lurking by the portal.

"Hagbarth!" he called. "Wait a minute."

The Ex-Earth man had already hastily turned to take his place at the control switch, but he was blocked by a dozen Centaurian females crowding toward the portal. "Listen," Giyt panted, catching up to him. "I really need to talk to Dr. Patroosh."

"But she doesn't want to talk to you, Giyt."

"I'll believe that when I hear it from herself. Mind telling me where she is?"

"I do mind, and, listen, Giyt, even if I didn't, don't you think the lady would like to be left alone? Considering what time those poor people finally got to bed? Considering they got a full day's work ahead of them? Now would you please let me get this bunch in?"

There was no arguing with that. The Delt in the control group was already screeching furiously at Hagbarth to join them. Disgruntled, Giyt took his place in the rank of mayors. He hardly noticed when the chime sounded, the portal began to glow, the door opened, and the four Centaurian VIP females, their husbands peering excitedly out of their fur, emerged. He was considering his next action. Perhaps Patroosh was staying at the Hagbarth house; he could go there and demand entrance—preferably before Hagbarth himself got there.

He didn't linger any longer than protocol absolutely demanded, but as he was heading for a cart a tiny Centaurian male scuttled through the crowd, calling, his name. "Large Male Giyt! This is I here, principal husband of Mrs. Brownbenttalon, you recall me? Be waiting briefly, please!"

"I'm in kind of a hurry—"

"Yes, surely. Deeply regret interrupting, but esteemed wife ask me to inform you. You wish find Earth female Patroosh, she say, having overhear you talk with Large Male Hagbarth person, correct? She say good idea go see New Zealand Large Male. Thank you. Now must return instantly for completing of welcoming high-ranking co-species persons."

It took a lot of knocking and ringing to get anyone to answer the New Zealander's door, and when the man showed up, half dressed, he looked seriously annoyed.. Even more so when Giyt announced that he wanted to see Dr. Patroosh. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded. "The mayor? Oh, right, the bloke that wanted to bring weapons into Tupelo. What the hell did you want weapons for?"

"It wasn't my idea. Can we talk about it some other time? I just need to see Dr. Patroosh."

The New Zealander looked suddenly suspicious. "What've you been hearing about her and me?"

"Nothing. I just need to talk to her."

The New Zealander studied him for a moment, then shrugged. "Well, why don't you come on in? I think she's probably out of bed by now."

So she was, but she was still wearing a wrapper over a frilly nightgown. It suited her, with her hair down; in fact, she looked quite pretty, and Giyt could see why doubling up was not a hardship for the New Zealander.

She did not, however, seem pleased to see Giyt. "Yes?" she said frostily. And she remained frosty while Giyt told her his shadowy suspicions about Hoak Hagbarth.

The New Zealander was listening intently. When Giyt finished he said, "What've I always told you, Emelia? It was a mistake to let Tupelo be an all-American project."

Patroosh gave him a tolerant look. "But that's only temporary, Jemmy. America's where Ex-Earth has been getting all its funding, so naturally America has a special interest. But they say they're definitely going to open it up to the rest of the world real soon now."

The New Zealander gave her a skeptical look. "I think we ought to listen to what this man has to say."

"Ah, Jemmy," she said crossly, "don't you think we've got enough on our plate? We've got to bring up the question of exchanging ambassadors again, and that's going to be a long, hard fight."

"But it's important," Giyt put in.

She shook her head. "Listen, Giyt," she began, and then hesitated. "Well," she said at last, "I guess you ought to know. Hagbarth's pretty down on you. Says he misjudged you. Doesn't think you're the right kind of person for the colony. And he has some stories about your wife—"

Giyt's expression hardened. "I know what he says about my wife."

"I don't really care what he says about your wife. But it makes a problem. If the Ex-Earth rep and the mayor are feuding, it complicates things here."

"But if the Ex-Earth rep is committing a crime—"

"Depends on what kind of crime it is, Giyt," she said kindly. "The UN can't do anything about embezzlement out here, can it?"

"I don't know that's what it is," he said obstinately. "It could be anything. It could be something that damages relations with the other planets."

"Yes, it could," she agreed, "but we don't know that, do we? As far as I can see, we don't know anything at all." She meditated for a moment, then sighed. "Giyt, I'll tell you what I'll do. When I'm back on Earth I'll ask Interpol a few discreet questions. If they know anything, I'll try to follow up."

Giyt, torn between knowing he ought to thank her, wanting more action: "When will that be?"

"A while. The ambassador-exchange thing is going to take time. Maybe a couple of weeks, even. But that's the best I can do. If you wanted me to do anything here, you'd have to have more evidence. Now will you please leave us alone so I can get dressed?"

More evidence? All right, Giyt thought, I'll give her more evidence. And when he got back to his home he asked Rina, "Do you think you'd be all right by yourself if I went to the Pole for a day or two?"

XXIV

Welcome, welcome, and welcome to our wonderful visitors from good old Mother Earth! And a special welcome to our dear old friend. Dr. Emilia Patroosh, who we all fondly remember from her visit here just a few months ago when she came to investigate the problems with the new generator system planned for Energy Island. And I've got some really good news for everybody, because tonight's the night! Our own dear Hoak and Olse Hagbarth are having a cookout at their home and all six of our honored guests have graciously consented to be present to meet you. Everyone's invited! And I don't Have to tell you that a grand time will be had by all when we partake of that famous Olse Hagbarth hospitality! See you there!

—
SILVA CRISTL
'
S BROADCAST

The decision to go to the Pole was made. Implementing the decision was harder. The first thing Giyt tried was polling the other mayors about revising the passenger list for the polar rocket.

He didn't get very far. The mayors weren't hostile, exactly, but they were clearly unwilling to get into a dispute between Earth humans. Even Mrs. Brownbenttalon was no help. "Could gladly give to you Centaurian seats if available, Large Male Giyt," she said, "but fact is, got no Centaurians going this trip or not next trip either, too. Wait. I maybe try Kalkaboos."

What she tried was to call the Kalkaboo High Champion on her own to see if he could be got to turn a seat loose. That didn't work, either. Downcast, she reported: "New Kalkaboo High Champion no better than old Kalkaboo High Champion. Talk much, do little. Say always permanently willing helping out good friend and assassin of predecessor who has made amends therefore, Earth-human Giyt, but not in this particular case. Say friend Giyt surely aware delegation of high persons from home planet presently present here and maybe would not be approving."

"Well, he could ask them," Giyt said.

"Certainly could. I spoke so also. He say not advisable, could cause problem. What sort problem he mean," she added, "is maybe home planet bosses might be annoy, could think stinky new Kalkaboo High Champion not as good as stinky old one. Stupid, you think? Sure. But what you going do? Is how Kalkaboos are, mostly. Now let me try Delts."

The Delts weren't helpful, either. When Giyt had to report failure to his wife she was warmly sympathetic. "Look on the bright side, hon. Here are all these people that aren't even human, and they do their best to help you—some of them, anyway."

"A very few of them," he grumbled. "And what the Delt said was that he'd do it in a minute, but the Slugs would have a fit because they're naturally scum. I hate the way these people talk about each other."

"Why? It's just talk, Shammy."

"It's not the kind of talk I'm used to," he insisted.

She sighed. "You've led a sheltered life, hon. When I was a kid in Newark, Mom was always making little jokes about the drunken Irish and the dumb Poles, and we all talked mean about the Protestants, and we and the Protestants never had a good word to say about the Afros or the Asians. Didn't mean much. We kids all played together, and our parents all got together for the Fourth of July parade and the Christmas baskets for the poor. The eeties just talk that way, hon. They get along. They've been doing it for hundreds of years, you know, and never any big fights. Which is a lot more," she added ruefully, "than you can say about any of our countries back on Earth,"

Giyt considered trying to stow away on the rocket—impossible—or just showing up at the launch pad and trying to bully his way aboard—just as impossible. Then he faced up to reality. He only had one alternative left. He had to swallow his pride and ask Hagbarth for help.

That wasn't easy, and what made it harder still was that he couldn't get Hagbarth on the screen; his personal access didn't respond, and when Giyt tried the one for the Hagbarth house, it was jammed up. He would have to do it in person.

When he got to Hagbarth's house he saw what the problem was. The cookout reception for the delegates was in full swing. He had to abandon his cart half a block away, because hundreds of people were swarming around the house. As he tried to pick his way through the crowd he got surprised looks from nearly everyone, some uneasily reluctant to meet his eyes, some staring at him with frank loathing. He was still a dozen meters from the front door when Hagbarth himself came steaming up. "What are you doing here, Giyt?" he demanded.