Prisoners of Tomorrow (93 page)

Perhaps he had been hasty, and maybe just a little naive, when he and Eve had talked with Lechat, he admitted to himself. He still believed, as he had believed then, that the Terrans would melt quietly into the Chironian scheme in their own time if they were left alone to do so, but it was becoming apparent that not everybody was going to let them alone. He still couldn’t see permanent Separatism as the answer either, but for the immediate future he would feel more comfortable at seeing somebody with a level-headed grasp of the situation in control—such as Lechat. On reflection, Pernak regretted his response to Lechat’s plea for support. But it was far from too late for him to be able to change that. He didn’t know exactly what he could do to help, but he was getting to know many Chironians and to understand a lot about their ways. Surely that knowledge could be put to some useful purpose.

Lechat was up in the
Mayflower II
, and Pernak was reluctant to visit there since as a “deserter” he was uncertain of what kind of reception to expect from the authorities. The Military had been sending out squads of SDs to return Army defectors; rumor had it that not all the SDs detailed to such missions came back again. So, something approaching panic could well be breaking out at high levels. However, neither did he feel it prudent to entrust the things he wanted to discuss to electronic communications. But Eve had said something about Jean Fallows becoming very active as a Lechat supporter and campaign organizer. . . . That would be a good place to begin.

He nodded to himself. That was what he would do. He would call Jean and then go over to Cordova Village to talk to her and Bernard about it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Leighton Merrick formed his fingers into a fluted column to support the Gothic arch of his brows and stared down at the desk while he chose his words. “Ah, I’ve been looking over your record, Fallows,” he said when he looked up. “It shows a consistent attention to detail that is very pronounced . . . everything thorough and complete, and properly documented. It’s commendable, very commendable . . . the kind of thing we could do with more of in the Service.”

“Thank you, sir.” It was obviously a softener. Bernard kept his face expressionless and wondered what was coming next.

Merrick allowed his hands to drop down to his chest. “And how are you settling in? Is your family adjusting well?”

“Very smoothly, considering that it’s been twenty years.” Bernard permitted a faint smile. “Jean’s finding some things a bit strange, but I’m sure she’ll get over it.”

“Good, very good. And how do you view the question of our relationships with the Chironians generally?”

“I find them a refreshingly honest and direct people. You know where you stand with them.” Bernard gave a slight shrug. “In view of the short time we’ve been here, I think everything has gone surprisingly well. Certainly it could have been a lot worse.”

“Hmm . . .” The reply didn’t seem quite what Merrick hoped for. “Not quite everything, surely,” he said. “What about the shooting of Corporal Wilson a week ago?”

“That was unfortunate,” Bernard agreed. “But in my opinion, sir, he asked for it.”

“That may be, but it’s beside the point that I was trying to make,” Merrick said. “Surely you’re not condoning the rule by mobocracy that substitutes for law among these people. Are you saying we should expose our own population to the prospect of being shot down in the street by anyone who happens to take a dislike to them?”

Bernard sighed. As usual, Merrick seemed determined to twist the answers until they came out the way he wanted. “Of course not,” Bernard replied. “But I think people are exaggerating the situation. That incident was not representative of what we should expect. The Chironians act as they’re treated. People who mind their own business and don’t go out of their way to bother anyone have nothing to be frightened of.”

“So everyone becomes a law unto himself,” Merrick concluded.

“No, the law is there, implicitly, and it applies to everyone, but you have to learn how to read it.” Bernard frowned. That hadn’t come out the way he had intended. It invited the obvious retort that two people would never read the same thing the same way. The difference was that the Chironians could make it work. “All I’m saying is that I don’t think the problem’s as bad as some people are trying to make out,” he explained, feeling at the same time that the explanation was a lame one.

“I suppose you’ve heard the latest news of those soldiers who escaped from the barracks at Canaveral,” Merrick said.

“Yes, but that situation can’t last. If the Army doesn’t get them soon, the Chironians will.”

Padawski and his followers had somehow shown up on the far side of the Medichironian, which was only sparsely settled, and seemed to be settling in as bandits in the hills. What a bandit would hope to achieve on a world like Chiron was hard to see, but revenge against Chironians seemed to have a lot to do with it; two isolated homes had been invaded, ransacked, and looted, in the course of which five Chironians and one soldier had been killed. Three Chironians, including a fifteen-year-old girl, had been raped. The Army was scouring the area from the air and with search parties on foot, but so far without success—the renegades were well trained in the arts of concealment. Satellites were of limited use if they didn’t know exactly where to look, especially where rough terrain was involved.

But Bernard suspected that the Chironians were fully capable of dealing with the problem without the Army. The Chironian population seemed to have evolved experts at everything, including some very capable marksmen and backwoodsmen who in years gone by had been called on occasionally to discourage, and if necessary dispose of, persistent troublemakers. Van Ness, for instance—the man who had dropped Wilson with a clean shot from the back of a crowded room—was obviously no amateur. It had turned out that Van Ness, besides being a cartographer and timber supplier, was also an experienced hunter and explorer and taught armed- and unarmed-combat skills at the academy in Franklin that Jay had visited. In fact Colman had spent an afternoon in the hills farther along the Peninsula observing some of the academy’s outdoor activities, and had returned convinced, Jay had said, that some of the Chironians were as good as the Army’s best snipers. But Merrick didn’t seem inclined to pursue that side of the matter. “Nevertheless Chironians are getting killed,” he said. “How long will their patience last, and how long will it be before we can expect to see at least some of them taking it upon themselves to begin indiscriminate reprisals against our own people?—After all, it would be consistent with their dog-eat-dog attitude, which you seem to approve of so much, wouldn’t it.”

“I never said anything of the kind. The whole point is that they are
not
indiscriminate. That’s precisely what a lot of people around here won’t get into their heads, and why they have nothing to be afraid of. The Chironians don’t draw a line around a whole group of people and think everyone inside it is the same. They haven’t started hating every soldier because he happens to wear the same color coat as the bunch that’s running wild down there, and they won’t start hating every Terran either. They don’t think that way.”

Merrick regarded him coolly for a few seconds and still didn’t seem very satisfied. “Well, all I can say is that not everyone shares your enviable faith in human nature—myself included, I might add. The official policy conveyed to me from the Directorate, which it is your duty as well as mine to support irrespective of our own personal views, is that the possibility of violent reaction from the Chironians cannot be dismissed. Therefore we must allow for such an eventuality in considering the future.”

Bernard spread his hands resignedly. “Very well, I can see the sense in being prepared. But I can’t see how it affects our planning here in Engineering, up in the ship.”

Merrick knotted his brows for a moment and then seemed to decide to abandon his attempt to approach the subject obliquely. “Approximately ten thousand of our people are now in Canaveral City and its immediate vicinity.” He looked straight at Bernard. “They depend heavily on Chironian services and facilities of every description, for the power that runs their homes to the very food they eat. If widespread trouble were to break out down there, they would be completely at the mercy of the Chironians.” He raised a hand to stifle any objection before Bernard could speak. “Clearly we cannot tolerate such a state of affairs. It has been decided therefore that, purely as a precautionary measure to protect our own people if the need should arise, we must be able to guarantee the continuity of essential services if circumstances should demand. Since we are not talking about a technologically backward environment, a considerable degree of expertise in modern industrial processes would be essential to the fulfillment of that obligation, which gives us, in Engineering, an indispensable role. I trust you see my point.”

Bernard’s eyes narrowed a fraction. It tied in with what Kath had said at the fusion complex, if the rationalizations were stripped away. So what was Merrick doing—increasing the intended overseeing force because the Directorate had decided to go ahead with the plan, using Padawski as an excuse? “I’m not sure that I do,” he replied. “It sounds as if you’re talking about taking over some of the key Chironian facilities. Wouldn’t that only make any trouble worse?”

“I made no mention of taking over anything. I’m merely saying we should be sufficiently familiar with their operations to be able to guarantee services if we are required to. Now that we’ve had an opportunity to look at Port Norday and a few other installations, I am reasonably confident we could manage them. I didn’t want to take up too much of everybody’s time before, but since the whole thing now seems feasible I’d like you to have a look at what’s at Norday. You should take Hoskins with you. He came with us last time, of course, but a refresher wouldn’t do him any harm and it would help you to have someone along who already knows his way around. That was really what I wanted to talk to you about.” Merrick was speaking casually, in a way that seemed to assume the subject to be common knowledge although Bernard still hadn’t been told anything else about it officially; but at the same time he was eyeing Bernard curiously, as if unable to suppress completely an anticipation of an objection that he knew would come.

Bernard decided to play along to see what happened. “I’m sorry—how do you mean, last time? I must be missing something.”

Merrick’s eyebrows shot up in an expression of surprise that was just a little too hasty. “The last time we went to see the complex at Port Norday.” Bernard stared blankly at him. Merrick seemed pained. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know. I went there with Walters and Hoskins a while ago. Didn’t Walters tell you about it?”

“Nobody told me anything.”

Merrick’s pained expression deepened into a frown. “Tch, tch, that’s inexcusable. How unfortunate. Let me see now—I can’t remember exactly when it was, but you were on duty. That was why I couldn’t include you at the time.” That was an outright lie; Bernard had been there on his day off, with Jay. “But anyway, we can soon put that straight. You’ll find the place fascinating. A woman runs most of the primary process—a remarkable lady—so I can promise you some interesting company as well as interesting surroundings. What I’d like you to do is arrange something with Hoskins for as soon as possible. I’m afraid I’ll be tied up for the next couple of days.”

Obviously something unusual was going on. Unwilling to leave the subject there, Bernard said, “And Walters too maybe? Perhaps he could use a refresher too.”

Merrick drew a long breath, and his expression became grave. “Mmm . . . Walters. That brings me to the other thing I have to tell you,” he said in a heavy voice. “Officer Walters is no longer with us. He and his family disappeared from Cordova Village two days ago and have not been heard of since. He failed to report for duty yesterday. We must assume that he has absconded.” He shook his head sadly. “Disappointing, Fallows, most disappointing. I credited him with more character.”

So that was it! Merrick’s blue-eyed boy had let him down, and he needed a replacement. Merrick didn’t give a damn about Bernard’s qualities as an engineer; he was interested only in extricating himself from what was no doubt an embarrassing predicament. As Bernard thought back over the deviousness that he had listened to since he sat down, his memory of Kath’s frankness and openness, even to a stranger, came back like a breath of fresh air. “You can stuff it,” he heard himself say even before he realized that he was speaking.

“What?”
Merrick sat up rigidly in his chair. “What did you say, Fallows?”

“I said you can stuff it.” Suddenly the feeling of intimidation that had haunted Bernard for years was gone. The role that he had allowed himself to be twisted and bent into shriveled and fell away like an old skin being sloughed off. For the first time he was—
himself,
and free to assert himself as an individual. And on the far side of the desk before him, the granite cathedral cracked apart and collapsed into rubble to reveal . . . nothing inside. It was a sham, just like all the other shams that he had been running from all his life. He had just stopped running.

Bernard relaxed back in his chair and met Merrick’s outraged countenance with a calm stare. “Nobody’s going to shut that complex down, and you know it,” he said. “Save the propaganda. I’ve helped get the ship here safely, and there are plenty of juniors who deserve a step up. I’ve done my job. I’m quitting.”

“But you can’t!” Merrick sputtered.

“I just did.”

“You have a contractual agreement.”

“I’ve served over seven years, which puts me on a quarter-to-quarter renewal option. Therefore I owe you a maximum of three months. Okay, I’m giving it. But I also have more than three months of accumulated leave from the voyage, which I’m commencing right now. You’ll have that confirmed in writing within five minutes.” He stood up and walked to the door. “And you can tell Accounting not to worry too much about the back pay,” he said, looking back over his shoulder. “I won’t be needing it.”