Battlefield Earth Part 121

Then Mr. Tsung picked up a little thin box on a silk neck cord and put it on and whispered at it, and Jonnie was startled to hear English coming out of it in a flat, electronic monotone.

In response to Jonnie's raised eyebrows, using the box, Mr. Tsung explained it was a gift from the small gray man, Dries Gloton, before he had left on a trip. A gift for starting a bank account! It seemed that Mr. Tsung's daughter was painting tigers and birds on big sheets of handmade rice paper and selling them to the emissaries for fifty credits apiece; the lords said they were "primitives" and collector's items. And his son-in-law had been making pictures of dragons on round metal plates with a molecular sprayer and selling those to the lords for a hundred credits each, and like a good father, even though he despised merchants and the merchant cla.s.s, he was taking care of their money for them.

Mr. Tsung explained that His Excellency had found the language "court Mandarin Chinese" in his library on the ship and had done the necessary microcopy of it and- you see this little switch here? That's Mandarin to English in the up position, Mandarin to Psychlo in the middle position, and English to Psychlo in the down position. And didn't it sound funny when it turned English into Chinese tones?

But that was not all: it was a vocoreader. See this little light on the end? You pa.s.sed that over Mandarin characters and it read them aloud in English or Psychlo. And it also read Psychlo and English in Mandarin. So now he couldn't be fooled or led into mistakes by wrongly worded speeches.

It ran on body heat so it didn't need any batteries and now he could talk straight to Jonnie! Of course, he'd still learn the languages himself, for he didn't want to sound so monotone. But wasn't Dries Gloton a nice man!

He was glad Mr. Tsung could now talk to him without a Coordinator, but all the same, it made Jonnie feel surrounded by the Galactic Bank.

Mr. Tsung put it to work right away. "I am told you are going in to hear the sentence and that it somehow includes you. Now since you don't know whether you are going to be found guilty or not, you just sit respectfully and listen, and if they ask you anything, you just bow- you don't answer. Just bow. That is how you open the way to demand a new trial."

It was good advice, but it did not do much to calm Jonnie's nerves.

Chief Chong-won said the radio was quiet. No, no news of Stormalong, nor Edinburgh nor Russia.

The lords were all a.s.sembled. They had rearranged the room. They had a high desk on the platform and Lord Fowljopan was sitting at it. The lords themselves were in orderly rows facing it. Down the side of the room was a line of chairs. Schleim was lying on a mine cart, totally wrapped up in hoist chains, with only his face showing above the links. They had him between the desk and the audience.

Lord Dom indicated that Jonnie should sit on one of the side chairs where Lord Voraz was sitting. It was obvious to Jonnie that they didn't consider him part of their deliberations. The lords didn't even look at him. But at least he wasn't there alongside that mine cart with Schleim!

"They have already discussed all this," whispered Lord Voraz to Jonnie.

"But they have to review and vote on each finding. It 's really more of a treaty than a trial. I'm surprised the Earth emissary isn't here. But they can proceed without him right up to the signing."

Lord Fowljopan signaled Lord Browl to call the session to order, which he did.

"We have already agreed upon and committed to treaty form," said Fowljopan, "the redefinition of the word 'pirate.' I wish to call to your attention, however, that the redefinition can have no bearing on the present findings for it was pa.s.sed upon after after the incident under trial. Is that correct, my lords?" the incident under trial. Is that correct, my lords?"

They signified that it was.

"Therefore," said Fowljopan, "we are basing this trial on existing findings and clauses. Testimony of Captain RoG.o.deter Snowl has been heard and duly entered in the record to the effect that he was ordred ordred to disregard the sanct.i.ty of the conference area by the Tolnep then-emissary Schleim. I believe it is the desire of this conference to accept the testimony and evidences of the said Snowl, particularly in the light of the fact that he considered he was bound to protect the Tolnep emissary. This absolves Snowl. Do you so vote?" to disregard the sanct.i.ty of the conference area by the Tolnep then-emissary Schleim. I believe it is the desire of this conference to accept the testimony and evidences of the said Snowl, particularly in the light of the fact that he considered he was bound to protect the Tolnep emissary. This absolves Snowl. Do you so vote?"

The lords so voted.

"Therefore," said Fowljopan, "it is considered established by this conference that the said Tolnep emissary, by name Lord Schleim, did willfully and maliciously order the military forces of Tolnep to attack the conference area. Do you so find?"

They voted unanimously that they so found and Schleim in his chains hissed and spat.

"It was further witnessed and established," continued Fowljopan, "that the said Tolnep emissary did seek to paralyze, shoot, and otherwise injure other emissaries engaged in their lawful and time-honored duties, contrary to specific clauses numbered here but too numerous to read. Is that your finding?"

They definitely so found and Schleim hissed and spat some more.

"Therefore," said Fowljopan, "it is adjudicated by this conference, lawfully a.s.sembled, by the power of treaty hereby made among planets, that Tolnep shall hereinafter, for a s.p.a.ce of one hundred years, be regarded as an outlaw nation! Do you so vote?"

They so voted and with deep scowls of determination.

"All treaties with the planet and nation of Tolnep are canceled here with," said Fowljopan. "Do you so vote?"

They so voted.

"All emba.s.sies and legations and consulates of the Tolnep planet and nation shall be closed and their diplomats expelled, and for the s.p.a.ce of the next hundred years, diplomatic functions in minor matters shall be undertaken by the Hawvins' emba.s.sies, legations, and consulates at usual charges. Do you concur?" They concurred.

"Since the personal safety of the said Schleim was promised by this conference and since it guaranteed to return the said Schleim unharmed to his planet, it is the decision of this conference that the said Schleim be deposited naked and in chains in the public slave market of the city of Creeth, Tolnep, as an expression of disfavor of this conference. Is this your wish?"

It was their wish. Schleim hissed and spat. Jonnie wondered when they were going to get around to "reparations." It was a thin hope but it was a hope.

Fowljopan was continuing. "Since Tolnep had the majority of war vessels and since its officer was, according to the testimony of Schleim himself earlier in this conference, the senior and commanding officer of the combined force, it is the finding of this conference that the non-Tolnep nations, which complemented the combined force, are nationally absolved of the offense. But that, as the presence of their forces poses a continued threat in the skies above this conference, this absolution is dependent on the following conditions: (a) that they ensure that the Tolnep fleet deposits any and all prisoners taken unharmed, undamaged, at a spot to be designated by the Earth military commander; (b) that they themselves deposit any prisoners they may have taken, unharmed, undamaged, at the same or similar place; (c) that they then escort, with the use of any military persuasion necessary, the Tolnep fleet back to Tolnep; (d) that they direct the Tolnep fleet to land on the surface of Tolnep, it being known to the conference that the Tolnep fleet cannot, thereafter, take off again; and (e) that they then return to their respective homelands. The forces mandated by this clause are those of the Bolbods, Hawvins, Hockners, Jamb.i.t.c.hows, and Drawkins, and any and all forces retained by them and any and all forces of any other planet or nation from outside this system. Is it so decreed?"

There was some discussion as to whether the emissaries representing these forces should vote or abstain.

"I suppose," whispered Voraz, "you can designate a deposit place for the prisoners in the absence of other authority."

"Yes," Jonnie whispered back, "but they don't say what we do with any prisoners we may have of theirs."

"This isn't a peace treaty," whispered Lord Voraz. "This relates to offenses against this conference. I...uh...put in a word about Earth prisoners. They're planetary a.s.sets, you see. Prisoners you have from the fleet up there would only be mentioned if this were a peace treaty. And I doubt they'd take them back due to possible contamination- you might want to get even through biological warfare. You're covered since they included 'unharmed' and 'undamaged' in the clause."

a.s.sets, thought Jonnie. You're just concerned about the value of the property you're trying to repossess. But he didn't say it. He was glad they'd get any Earth prisoners back.

They had finally decided the emissaries of other combatants had better vote for it would look better on the record. The conference was then unanimous.

"By conference law," Fowljopan then said, "mention must be made of personal violence used against a then-emissary, Lord Schleim."

Lord Voraz touched Jonnie's knee. "This is you."

"One designated as Jonnie Goodboy Tyler was seen to throw a cane or scepter at the said Lord Schleim, striking him. It is the wish of this conference to exonerate the said Tyler. Do you so vote?"

They voted to do so and Schleim really spat.

"Now comes the nice part," whispered Lord Voraz.

"In accordance," said Fowljopan, "with Clause 103, which covers services in protecting and saving the lives of conference members, for predetermining the intentions of the said Schleim and for disarming him so that his attack was to no avail, one designated as Jonnie Goodboy Tyler is hereby vested with the Order of the Crimson Sash. Is this the wish of the conference?"

There was a spatter of applause, a buzz of comment.

Lord Voraz whispered, "The Empress Beaz of the Chatovarians created that order eighty-three thousand, two hundred sixty-eight years ago when an attendant saved the life of her lover at a conference. Someone tried to a.s.sa.s.sinate him and the attendant prevented it but got a superficial knife slash in the process. Hence 'Crimson Sash.' " He whisked from his pocket a little book which expanded and he looked up something. "It ent.i.tles you to be addressed as 'Lord' and it carries with it a pension of two thousand credits a year. We manage the trust fund for it. I must make a note."

They were still applauding a bit and Lord Browl indicated Jonnie should stand up and bow. Jonnie thought sourly he'd put the sash on Windsplitter. He didn't want their honors. He sat down. They sure were taking a long time to get around to reparations. Ah, here they were!

Fowljopan was unreeling a long roll of paper with figures on it. "It has also been found that the dignities of the emissaries and their planets have been offended by the unseemly attack or attempted attack upon them by the said Schleim. A fine and reparation in the sum of one trillion Galactic credits is hereby levied upon the planet Tolnep by the conference."

Fowljopan rattled through the papers. "The emissaries who had ships in the skies at the time of this incident are not to be included as recipients in this indemnity because of a witting or unwitting taint of conspiracy. The sum, as already discussed in previous deliberations, shall be allocated to emissaries in accordance with populations they represent." He rattled off a lot of figures. "Does the conference so agree?"

They corrected a couple of calculations.

"Earth," Jonnie whispered to Lord Voraz, "is getting almost nothing!"

"Some of these emissaries have populations of hundreds of billions," Lord Voraz whispered back. "The Chatovarians have almost thirty-nine trillion beings on their seven hundred planets. What have you got here? Thirty-three thousand?"

The emissaries accepted the amended figures. Jonnie held his breath. Were damages to Earth going to enter in here?

"Any and all financial arrangements to be made in accordance with the practices of the Galactic Bank," said Fowljopan. He didn't ask for any agreement on that. Lord Voraz simply nodded.

"This concludes our findings," said Fowljopan. "Is it the wish of this conference that these be scrolled in finished form, as voted, so that they can be signed and attested?"

Jonnie whispered urgently to Lord Voraz, "Wait. They claimed they burned a lot of cities. There are all sorts of war damages."

"I tried to get it in; it would have increased the value of the property," Lord Voraz whispered back, "but this isn't a peace conference, you know. It 's a trial and treaty about offenses to the conference itself."

No reparations for Earth? Jonnie felt like jumping up and protesting. If Sir Robert or MacAdam had been here- "A trillion credits fine," whispered Lord Voraz, "is stiff stiff. It will crash the whole Tolnep economy. Even if Earth were awarded city damages, Tolnep could never pay them after that huge fine. Be happy about it. You got rid of all the hostile forces."

And got rid of all challenges to a clear t.i.tle, thought Jonnie sourly. Now they were wide open to the bank foreclosure with no real money to meet it.

But Fowljopan was coming down on Jonnie. "Your emissary was not here! This is highly irregular. It does not void or change these findings. But if he is not here to sign them, they will not be valid. Your war will go right on. So you better advise your government to get him here quick. These papers will be ready for signature tomorrow afternoon. Are you going to see he is here?"

"I'm not a representative-" began Jonnie.

"You have influence," said Fowljopan. "Use it! We want to finish up here and go home."

"You better do as he says," whispered Lord Voraz.

Jonnie looked up to see Dries Gloton standing at the door. He'd come back!

As Jonnie walked out, Dries asked Lord Voraz, "Is the Earth representative coming?"

Voraz pointed to Jonnie.

"Will you get him here?" Dries Gloton asked Jonnie.

Jonnie said he'd try, and Dries and Lord Voraz looked at each other and grinned.

He was too disheartened about no reparations for Earth to give much thought to them.

Chapter 3.

A few feet from the door of the conference room, Jonnie started to get mad.

War! Any one of those lords in there, or their governments, merely had to say the word and their fleets pranced off to bash somebody's head in!

And when they'd bashed it in, they could just sail off tra-la, without a thought of what they'd done to people's homes and lives, and then maybe come back another day to bash some more!

Jonnie took a walk around the causeway of the bowl. It was a sunny noontime and the mine entrance and exhaust fans made a gentle breeze as they changed the air.

The little children lay in the rifle pits, shaded with bits and pieces of cloth.

They followed him with their eyes. The dogs whuffed and snuffled at him from the ends of their leashes and, somehow recognizing him as a friend, wagged their tails. The older children, having fed the younger ones, were sitting cross-legged and eating from bowls: they grinned and nodded as he went by.

Jonnie thought, why shouldn't these children have a chance? Why couldn't they have a future that was happy and safe?

War! What right did cold, impersonal nations have to murder and rampage, to smash and crush and gut their more helpless, fellow beings?

Call it "national policy," call it "necessities of state," call it what you will, it still amounted to an action of the insane.

Psychlo! What right did Psychlo have striking this planet down? Couldn't they have bought what they wanted? Couldn't they have come in and said, "We need metal. We will exchange this or that or technology for it." No, it suited them better to murder and steal it like a thief.

He thought about the time before the visitors came, when first they had been free from the oppressive tyrants. The people had been trying to get on with it, had been happy, had been working with a will. And then the visitors came. And with them the bank.

Organization might be necessary. But it gave no one the right to create a government that was an inhuman, soulless beast!

He thought of Brown Limper and his idiocies in the name of "the state." Yet Brown Limper had been almost sensible compared to those lords in there.

Jonnie looked at the children. And he made up his mind. Whatever happened, there would be no more war. Not anywhere.

He had been so engrossed in his thoughts that Chief Chong-won had to shake his arm to get his attention.

The chief was jumping up and down and waving at Jonnie to come on and at last practically pushed him into the ops room.

Tinny was beaming! beaming! A chatter of Pali was spraying out from around her headphones. She said something into her mike and turned to Jonnie. A chatter of Pali was spraying out from around her headphones. She said something into her mike and turned to Jonnie.

"It's the Scot officer in charge of rescue in Russia!" said Tinny. "They spotted some green smoke coming from a ventilator in puffs. Somebody inside had gotten the armor off the ducts. They've got mine-hoist gear going right this minute hauling people out!"

Minute by minute the reports came in. Then Tinny turned to Jonnie: "It's Colonel Ivan! It 's for you! He says 'Tell Marshal Jonnie the valiant-red-army is still at his command!' "

Jonnie was about to reply. He was finding it hard to talk. But Tinny said, "Here's another one for Jonnie. He wants to hear your voice!" She pushed the headset at Jonnie.

Security or no security, the voice said, "Jonnie? It 's Tom Smiley Townsen!"

Jonnie couldn't talk.

"Jonnie, the village people are all okay. Everybody is all right, Jonnie. Jonnie, are you there?"

"Thank G.o.d," Jonnie forced himself to say. "Tell them that for me, Tom. Tell them all. Thank G.o.d!"

And he sat down in a chair and wept. He had not realized how worried he had been about them. He had suppressed it with an iron will so that he could work.

The reports were still coming in and after a while he got busy. They wanted to know where to go and he in his turn had the glad news for them of the departure of the enemy and the terms, and shouts and cheers began to leak through from the background of the communicator's voice there.

They had five wounded pilots and a lot of burn cases and they wanted help from Scotland. He learned the old underground hospital in Aberdeen had been set up and he got the badly wounded ones flown through to it and pried a nurse loose in Aberdeen to be flown back to Tashkent to care for the minor burns and injuries.

He had gotten so busy with these problems that he had forgotten all about Sir Robert until Dries Gloton got Chong-won to remind him of it.