Power Lines Part 24

"I must also inform you, Dama-" Sally's face was sad and angry. "I heard that a large clouded feline was seen being wheeled into the veterinary surgery early this morning."

"Ah, not Coaxtl!" Marmion took a deep breath and, eyes glittering, added fiercely, "It's bad enough that the humans of this world have to be mauled and pushed around like p.a.w.ns, but when the beautiful animals are . . . Well, there's a thing or two Patrick Matthew Olingarch-Luzon will not want to hear as public gossip back at s.p.a.ce Station One-Thirty-One!" She downed the coffee in one gulp, poured another cup, and then went to the work desk and her terminal.

Chapter 17.

Yana was roughly aroused by an imperative hard shaking and looked up to see two of the Omnicron troopers, truncheons in their hands. One of them gestured for her to get up. When she went toward her clothes, they each caught an elbow. She shrugged, as much as she could in their grip, and did her best to match their long strides down the hall to the end and an open door, through which she was pushed with sufficient strength to propel her several meters into the room. The smell and the appurtenances told her it was medical. A male orderly swung through the open door on the right, a paper shift in his hands. He gave it to her and gestured to the screen.

She took it with a flicker of a smile. The silent treatment continued as she stepped out from behind the screen and was marched, strong fingers gripping her elbow, through the open door.

CAT scan, she thought as she saw the huge cylinder, and she nearly burst out laughing, remembering Marmion's observation that Clodagh would never fit in that, though the circ.u.mference of the equipment was wide enough for most human bodies.

She endured the prodding and probing, took the jars and produced the specimens, and had rather a lot of blood samples taken. She was crowned with the metal band of one of the more sophisticated brain-function devices she'd ever seen and sat through that while her reflexes were tested and she was p.r.i.c.ked with more needles and had patches slapped on and pulled off. The doctor who performed the gynecological examination did a double take when he realized she was pregnant-at her age!-but murmured automatic rea.s.surances that the fetus seemed to be in good shape. She was put up on a treadmill; and as it moved, she had to run faster and faster to keep from falling. When they stopped that test, she was barely puffing-and rather pleased that she was so fit. She waited pa.s.sively, while the various medics had a huddle. The oldest of them, and he couldn't be more than her own age, finally gestured to the orderly and she was taken back to collect her underwear and then marched back to her cell.

She reckoned the examination had taken approximately an hour. As she put her underwear back on, she grinned, thinking of the CAT scan and the treadmill, which wouldn't accommodate either Clodagh or Aisling. She put the medical gown on again, rolled up in the blanket, and tried to get more sleep. She hoped the others, no doubt undergoing the same procedures, weren't unnerved by the silent treatment, which was supposed to demoralize the recipient. She wondered who else had been grabbed in the midnight s.n.a.t.c.hes and finally fell asleep listing them in her head.

An earsplitting siren hooted her awake and she dressed quickly, not wishing to be caught again. A ration bar and a plastic cup of water were delivered by a silent guard while another watched, idly tapping his left hand with the truncheon. She said nothing as she accepted the food. She did, however, sniff the water before taking a sip to roll around in her mouth; but it was good Petaybee water, and the ration bar was standard Intergal in its original wrapping, complete with bar-coding. To her practiced eye, she read an expired date, but that oddly rea.s.sured her that nothing had been "treated."

She was sitting cross-legged, doing some relaxation exercises, when she felt the rumble under her b.u.t.tocks: faint but definitely a seismic tremor.

"Good ol' Petaybee, you're not letting them get away with this, are you!"

"No talking!" The command was issued from a hidden speaker.

Yana reprimanded herself for not thinking to look for a bug, but of course they'd be listening in on all their prisoners, testing the efficacy of the silent treatment on the various personalities.

"Whatever!" she murmured, just to be contrary.

Commissioner Matthew Luzon had been awakened at two o'clock by Braddock as the first of the medical reports was presented. They proceeded to spew out of the remote printer in his office at regular intervals. He noted that Major Yanaba Maddock was two months pregnant and wondered just how he could use that fact to best advantage. He ignored the fact that she was in excellent physical health, no sign of the lung-tissue damage that had discharged her from active service. That was a harder issue to make viable to his needs.

Sean Shongili, too, was in excellent physical shape. The scan showed the largest of the cerebral nodes yet noticed, also, the largest brown fat concentration and an enlarged pancreas. His toes and fingers were abnormally long but could not be considered either an adaptation or a mutation; the slight increase in digital webbing was odd, but not entirely exceptional. They had been unable to get clear readings of his internal organs-the medic claimed that slight earth tremors prevented him from being able to calibrate the machine properly the whole time Shongili was being tested-but these were evidently functioning normally according to other forms of testing.

Matthew, who knew what he had seen at the Vale of Tears, had his suspicions about the internal organs, but realized he might have to win his case before he could take Shongili off-planet where sufficiently extensive invasive tests could be performed. He knew the man was not normal, but none of the tests he could legally conduct here provided enough data. Just little things: a slight anomaly in configuration noted that Shongili's torso was inappropriately longer than his legs. If his leg bones had grown in proportion to his body, he would have been several inches taller. This was not considered unduly important, but his unusual lung capacity was, along with a high metabolic rate while his blood pressure was on the low side of normal.

They had been unable to scan the woman, Clodagh Senungatuk, and had barely managed to fit her sister, Aisling, in the device. While obese in medical terms, the women were also in excellent health and, since Aisling Senungatuk had a well-developed node and five hundred grams of brown fat, it could be concluded that her unscanable elder sister was similarly endowed.

a.n.a.lysis was continuing on the various liquids and powders found in Clodagh Senungatuk's house, but so far they tested as herbal, with some minerals, mineral salts, and occasional animal-protein additives. Nothing toxic or poisonous had yet been found. When questioned on the usage of various items, the subject had answered willingly and at some length, describing preparation when asked and the places where she obtained the ingredients. The biochemists in charge of this aspect of the investigation were clearly impressed by the almost sophisticated pharmaceuticals available in such a primitive society. In the course of questioning her, it was learned that Senungatuk's great-grandparents had been the resident biochemists during the initial seeding of flora and fauna on Terraform B, working with the elder Dr. Shongili. Senungatuk had an exceptional memory and, although she reeled off by rote long pa.s.sages of biochemical procedures, she obviously understood the material she recited.

Matthew Luzon excised that section from the report. In fact, if the medical procedures hadn't also been intended to demoralize the renegades, he would have stopped the examinations as a waste of time. The "splendid physical health" was not at issue and was not to last long in the conditions to which he intended to send them all-if what Maddock had told Torkel was true: and Shepherd Howling's unexpected demise upheld his theory. He was rubbing his hands together in pleasure when he felt the rumbling under his feet. That gave him a moment's pause. But only a moment. Seismic activity was no proof of sentience, as Whittaker and some others claimed. It only proved that the Terraform B program had developed unforeseen problems. On the other hand, he now had plenty of proof of subversion and sabotage among the inhabitants and a premeditated homicide in the deaths of the four shanachies. He also had proof that the belief in the sentience of this rock was not at all universal.

"Braddock," he called. The young man appeared immediately. "Find out how widespread this seismic activity is and how long it will last. I don't want it affecting the conference time slot."

Braddock gave him a startled look, then said an obedient "Yes, sir" and ducked away.

Matthew then turned to some of the other reports his minions had been organizing. The demographics were not what he had antic.i.p.ated. The first settlers had been from mixed Eskimo-Irish, Scandinavians, Sherpans, Andean Indians, Slavs, Somalis, Afghans, and a handful or two of other inconvenient people who had had to be removed. Most of those he considered "renegades" were Eskirish, a really absurd combination in terms of melding violence and resourcefulness. Whatever had the original Intergal committee been thinking of to allow such interbreeding!

The most recent colonists, whom he had hoped would be untouched by the local superst.i.tions, so resented their resettlement that they had been remarkably uncooperative. They would prove hostile witnesses even if they hadn't fallen under the ma.s.s hallucination that the planet was self-aware. They were not interested in working in mines, even at the wages Matthew, in the name of Intergal, had offered: they were interested in either getting off Petaybee or, failing that, in surviving the next year. He must find out why George, Ivan, and Hans had completely ignored the possibilities in that wish. Not like them to miss an opportunity. If he'd had a little more time, he might have used the wedge to his advantage. He did have a Scotsman on hand, antagonistic or not, and Ascencion-now that she had been thoroughly bathed and properly clothed-as witnesses that not all settlements believed as the people of Kilcoole did. But the time spent gathering most of these reports had been wasted. He tossed them aside and picked up the files dealing with the four recently deceased shanachies.

This was more like it. Each of them, Satok, Reilly, Soyuk, Clancy, and Shepherd Howling, had been leaders of their communities and actively trying to find the ores that Intergal knew lay below the surface of the planet. Torkel could verify that Satok had showed him rich samples. Satok had also found an ingenious way to neutralize the "mesmeritic" effect of the caves by the use of Petraseal, before his work had been sabotaged by what Matthew suspected was the deliberate planting of coo-brambles, which had not only broken through the Petraseal, but had murdered Satok as well. Clearly an attempt to discredit the technique, as well as silence its innovator.

Not that that murder had worked! Matthew grinned. That woman would be punished. And it had only proved that the metals were there, in these so-called "communion" caves. Of course, it was entirely typical of primitive peoples, or regressed ones, to designate valuable areas as somehow "taboo" to scientific study and use. But such thinking was backward and counter productive on a company facility such as this planet. Part of Matthew's mission was to expose such cultural backwardness' for what they were and suggest reform programs to re-educate the natives while helping the company make maximum use of the resources.

Usually he felt no personal involvement whatsoever, merely a sense of satisfaction at a mission well done. But Petaybee-Terraform B-irritated him. If he had any influence at all, and he did have-a nephew captaining the CISS Prometheus specifically-no matter what any one of these primitives said or did or claimed that the planet said or did, it would be mined of every ounce worth even a half credit.

He'd sent Torkel Fiske to find at least one vein of ore-anything would do, copper, iron, manganese, silver, gold, platinum, germanium-in the underground pa.s.sages to prove that the indigenous people had deliberately kept Intergal scientists and engineers from locating the ores; that there had been a long-standing pa.s.sive resistance and discreet sabotage to prevent Intergal from reaping the financial rewards of its investment in the terraforming process. He had also sent a team to Shannonmouth with metal detectors to find where the traitors had hidden the ores they had clandestinely taken from Satok's shuttle. He would heavily emphasize how long these Petaybeans had been bilking Intergal of its rightful gains.

That sort of accusation would strike a punitive chord in the minds of men like Bal Jostique and Nexim Shi-Tu, and quite likely affect Chas's known soft heartedness. Marmie's little supercilious smirk last night over their bad investment had not endeared her to Bal and Nexim.

His nephew was standing by in the CISS Prometheus. All the troops on s.p.a.ceBase now were strangers to this planet and incorruptible, and the Petaybee-born troops that Torkel had unwittingly ordered in before had been rounded up and confined to barracks. The two arrogant copter pilots were incarcerated as well for their obstructionism and would face a court-martial for their crafty dodges. The only drawback to his revenge on O'Shay and Greene was that they wouldn't suffer from immune deficiencies as much as the other Petaybeans soon to be removed from their "beloved" planet.

Marmion, too, felt the rumbling through the thick carpet and smiled. Just what could the planet do to impress the unimpressable, who had seen it all, done it all? Only they hadn't, had they? She gave a light laugh, although she could not ignore the cramping of her stomach muscles as the time for the meeting approached.

Chapter 18.

The committee convened at 10:00 promptly. Matthew had had even smaller, padded detention cells set up in an annex by the temporary boardroom. All prisoners were present and accounted for, although the sergeant in charge had reported that the medics had insisted that the child, Goat-dung, be placed with her sister or they wouldn't take responsibility for her sanity when it came time for her to be questioned. Matthew shrugged that off. An eleven-year-old was not necessary, not really. The testimony of Shepherd Howling's senior wife, Ascencion, would be more than sufficient.

He looked about for Torkel, who had had time enough to locate at least one viable ore site. Not seeing the captain among those in the anteroom, he told Ivan to locate the man and have him come, with or without samples. As a well-respected officer of Intergal, Fiske's word would be sufficient.

As he entered the committee room, Chas, Bal, and Nexim were standing by the windows, watching the thick mist left over from the night rolling across the cracked concrete landing field of s.p.a.ceBase. Matthew frowned. The met report had been that the fog would burn off and that they would have clear weather and temperatures slightly above normal for Petaybee this time of year-still too b.l.o.o.d.y cold, in Luzon's opinion, for civilized people-but nothing had been said about ground fog continuing right into the day. With an unusual burst of imaginativeness, he realized that he considered this fog to be unnatural, sneaking and insidious in the way it moved, stifling in the way it m.u.f.fled sound and prevented a clear field of vision.

Shaking off such thoughts, he grabbed Braddock, walking a pace behind him, arms full of notes and doc.u.mentation, and told him in a low voice to close the blinds. He didn't want any distractions during the proceedings.

Marmion arrived at the dot of the appointed hour, smiling charmingly to everyone, with just that tall b.i.t.c.h of hers in attendance. She looked pleased about something. Well, that would change! And swiftly, Matthew thought with great satisfaction. As chair person of this commission, her ladyship grandly invited all to be seated.

The blankness of the main screen altered swiftly to an image of the secretary-general of Intergal, Farringer Ball, seated at his desk, tapping the end of a stylus on the finely grained wood surface.

"Well, let's not dally. I've other matters to attend this morning." A spray of "snow" across the screen coincided with a rumbling that all could feel, judging by their reactions, as Matthew did, through the soles of their feet and the vibration of their chairs. "What the-I'm losing reception. Get your technicians to stabilize it!"

Matthew signaled for George to do so. "Local interference, Farringer, nothing to worry about. This is, as you know, a very primitive planet and the equipment all but obsolete. Generally adequate enough for the purpose, especially considering the time and investment already expended on this wretched place."

"Let's cut to the bone: Can this planet be made profitable?"

"Yes, actually it can," Marmion said, pouncing in ahead of Matthew. "As chair person of this committee, in case you'd forgotten, I have no doubts about that, Farrie." She gave him her saccharine smile.

"You've found the ores then?" secretary-general Ball asked hopefully.

"Petaybee is more important to Interga1 for a heretofore unexplored source of renewable wealth," Marmion said firmly, "that will require no further capital expenditure while it offers gainful employment to permit the indigenous a decent standard of living as well as a profit for Intergal, and will attract no retaliation from the sentient being who is the planet."

"Oh, come now, Marmion, you can't prove that," Matthew said scornfully, "and you know you can't."

"The pharmaceutical wealth of Petaybee?" She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Why, the reports from your own team of biochemists are quite clear on that point, Matthew. This planet is a treasure trove of diverse and easily harvested medical components."

Seething, Matthew managed a weak smile. How had Marmion Algemeine got hold of those reports? He had told the head of the team to release information to no one but himself. But then, his team had seriously let him down, their performance declining ever since he had left them alone while he flew to the southern continent. Usually they and their computers were masterful at manipulating statistics to show the results he desired. Since his return, almost every report he looked at reflected data supporting conclusions the opposite of those he wished drawn. More than Petaybean heads would roll when this conference was over.

And where the h.e.l.l was Torkel Fiske?

"Pharmaceuticals? What pharmaceuticals?" Farringer Ball demanded, looking decidedly interested.

Matthew inwardly writhed. Everyone knew that the secretary-general experimented in consciousness stimulation's and was still searching for longer-lasting mood adjusters with no side effects.

"Yes, Farrie, some really marvelous concoctions and remedies, guaranteed pure and free of toxic additives and remarkably no discernible side effects," Marmion went on. "Preparations which, if merchandised properly-that Nova Bene Drug Company you've an interest in," she added, hesitating only briefly over that allusion, -could promote them in an interplanetary campaign-will substantially reduce the debt incurred by the earlier, and unacceptable, purpose of Intergal on this planet. Indeed, we have every reason to believe the planet will a.s.sist us in this venture, provided harvesting is carried out in a responsible and prudent manner."

"As it a.s.sisted the murders of four shanachies who had discovered the vast metal and mineral wealth of this rockball?" Matthew asked.

"Murders? What murders?" Farringer looked from one to the other.

"Five, in fact," Matthew said challengingly, "since the shanachie of the Vale of Tears was so convinced that he would be the next victim that I naturally afforded him asylum on MoonBase."

"Five? Four? He's dead, too? Of what?" Farringer Ball was again confused.

"He unfortunately succ.u.mbed to a virulent respiratory infection three days ago," Matthew said quickly, and then pointed behind him, in the direction of the detention cells, "but his death, as well as the murders of the four shanachies, is directly attributable to the concerted program of sabotage, misdirection, and treason perpetrated by the leaders of this conspiracy against Intergal."

"Who?" the secretary-general asked, more confused by Matthew's rhetoric than ever.

"By the woman, Clodagh Senungatuk-"

"The Kilcoole biochemist and healer of considerable expertise," Whittaker Fiske interposed amiably.

"Who, before witnesses, admitted to knowing the toxic quality of the plant which was instrumental in the deaths of the four shanachies!" Matthew snapped back, trying to keep his growing frustration under control. "And the so-called doctor Sean Shongili, the reputed genetic scientist who has in fact, aided and abetted Senungatuk in her program of sabotage, subversion, and the estrangement of the population from their natural protectors, Intergal!- "What a load of cod's wallop!" Whittaker said, shaking his head and raising his eyes skyward at Matthew's accusations.

"Not only that!" Matthew went on, "I find that Captain Torkel Fiske's request for a court-martial of Major Yanaba Maddock, formerly an agent of Intergal, has adequate grounds on charges of treason and counter espionage. She's in league with Senungatuk and Shongili and, further more, two months pregnant by someone or other!" He said the last four words scathingly.

"I thought Major Maddock was discharged to this planet in a terminally disabled physical condition," Chas Tung said as he peered at his own note pad. "She's certainly well over the customary age to conceive a child." He looked around for an explanation.

"Which is more proof that the healing powers of this planet's pharmaceutical wealth are most unusual," Whittaker Fiske said, chortling, "and worth a packet to Intergal."

"Rubbish! Ridiculous!" Matthew replied. "The true value of this planet is, after evacuating the immigrant population, the minerals and resources Intergal has invested in during its development and has every right to ship from it, until it is nothing but the core of ice and rock it was when the company first set eyes on it. Once we have extracted what is rightfully ours, we can leave it all by itself again."

"Ha!" Whittaker jabbed a finger at Matthew. "You said it yourself. You believe it's sentient, too. "Leave it all by itself!" See, Luzon admits sentience."

"I admit nothing of the sort! Rock can't have sentience! That can't be proved."

Everything on the table began to rattle; on the screen, Fallinger Ball's livid, baffled countenance dissolved and reformed several times.

"It just was proved by that tremor, Luzon," Whittaker Fiske said.

"The esteemed doctor has lost his esteemed mind, sir, you see?" Matthew crowed over Fiske's softer voice. "He now interprets every perfectly natural phenomenon as some sort of statement by the ground he walks upon."

Fiske didn't even change expressions as he continued, when Matthew ran out of breath. "Furthermore"-Fiske pointed to a thin mist oozing through the seams of the building, floor, walls, and ceiling-"you may be about to partake of the 'ma.s.s hallucination,' as my dear son called it, as proof positive of our claims of sentience."

"What's hap'ing . . . there?" the secretary-general demanded, the ' snow" and static interfering on both sides. "How . . . I possibly un . . stand what's going on when I . . . even . . . clearly. Luz . . . what's . . . matter?"

Matthew was irritated not only by the poor reception but also by the mist seeping in under the doors and the supposedly tightly sealed window fittings. He was further distracted by the note handed him by Braddock that told him that Torkel was unable to locate s.p.a.ceBase in the thick mist and his pilot, one of the Prometheus's flight lieutenants, would not risk his craft and his pa.s.sengers when he couldn't see where to land.

The secretary-general banged a gavel fiercely. "Fix that . . . screen. Stop . . . fusing issues. Marm . . . on, can you clar . . . matters?"

"I have, Farrie. And we're working on the reception here. The technician should have things cleared up in a moment. Please raise your hand if you can't hear me. The planet's worth more as a pharmaceutical source, renewable in perpetuity, than as another strip-mining operation," she said. "I have had cooperation from all sides and professions on this planet. The indigenous population are hardy, industrious, resourceful people-they have to be to survive in what is a harsh environment. But for four generations they have coped and provided Intergal with strong, healthy recruits who have been a credit to the service and their planet. They have sabotaged nothing, even though the company has given them precious little a.s.sistance. This planet, however, registered a complaint which Whittaker Fiske and Torkel-if he'd admit it, have heard, and this committee is in response to that complaint. Petaybee, the planet, has refused to be exploited in a brutal and ecologically senseless fashion. Its complaint is not only valid but points us in the more feasible and useful direction of considering alternative sources of profit. Why ruin a world for cra.s.s metal when its wealth in renewable products is by far greater and longer lasting? I have myself experienced the total communication with it that Whittaker here and most of the population have enjoyed, and hallucination it is not, as Whittaker has already testified."

At that point, the door opened, admitting an Omnicron officer who, despite Matthew's scowl, presented him with a large green rock, veined deeply in orange, and a note.

"Aha!" Matthew sprang to his feet, flourishing the rock toward the screen. "The ore samples that were removed from Satok's craft have been found by metal detector in the woods at Shannonmouth, where they were illegally removed from his vessel and hidden: yet another example of the sabotage that is almost planetwide. This is high-grade copper, according to this quick a.s.say."

"Copper? Is that the best you can do, Matthew? Copper?" Nexim Shi-Tu demanded. "Not gold, or platinum . . ."

"Lieutenant, did you see any gold or platinum among the samples? Matthew asked, his eyes gimleting the Omnicron man.

"Sir, I wouldn't know either in the raw state. I was told to bring this to you because it's the purest of the lot we found."

"Pure copper is not to be sneezed at," Marmion said without a trace of sarcasm, "but hardly in the same category as a respiratory remedy that cures damaged lung tissue, now is it?" A technician bent and spoke to her and she said to the screen, which was still fuzzy but not so noisy "Is that better now, Farrie?"

"Yes, I believe it is. Continue."

"D'you have something for immaculate conceptions, too?" Bal asked slyly.

"By whom is Major Yanaba Maddock pregnant, Marmion?"

She shrugged. "Let's not digress from the purpose of this commission, gentlemen. Major Maddock's personal life is not at issue in this hearing and should not be at issue in any other hearing as long as she has obeyed her orders."

"Aha!" And Matthew once more jumped to his feet. "That's just it. She hasn't obeyed orders."

"But she did," Marmion replied firmly. "As she was instructed by Colonel Giancarlo, she became a part of the society of Kilcoole and set about learning as much as she could about Petaybee. She learned a great deal, although it was not, perhaps, what her superiors had expected her to discover."

"Where is she?" Barringer Ball asked, looking around the room. "She was the uniformed one from our first conference, wasn't she?"

"I believe she has been detained on Vice-Chairman Luzon's orders," Marmion said, turning to Matthew with a suddenly implacable expression on her composed, elegant face, "another breach of the civil rights of Intergal officers." And that's for the record, Farringer," she added sternly. "Even an Intergal commissioner cannot go about denying officers their civil rights."

"Of course I had her detained," Matthew almost shouted back, "as an unrepentant renegade ally of the Kilcoole Group. As a matter of course, I had medical tests run on all the renegades-"

"Why?" Whittaker cracked that one word out. "What right had you to impose a restriction on any one of the citizens of this world? I've told you once and I'll keep on telling you: They are not sabotaging Intergal. Intergal is sabotaging itself on Petaybee."

"Oh, come now!" Matthew said, his voice dripping with scorn and the indignation that, rather to his surprise, he found he was actually shaking with. Or was that indignation causing him to shake? It seemed to be shaking everyone else, too, and the table, as well.

Fiske was continuing, heedlessly. "By denying the demonstrable proof that the pharmaceutical wealth will be a long-term and highly profitable use of Petaybee. So what did your needless medical tests prove?" Typical of the man, he had no sooner asked the question than he answered it himself. "Not a d.a.m.n thing except they're the healthiest bunch of people your tame medical staff has seen in a hunk of years. So they've a few spare parts that help them adapt to Petaybee's climate. So what? Nothing mysterious."

"Vice-Chairman Luzon has been so busy he hasn't seen the obvious, Farrie," Marmion said with a hint of sympathy for the misguided Luzon. "I'm sure we can come to some arrangement to extract some ores when they don't involve disturbing invasions of Petaybee's integrity. Open-pit mining is as disfiguring as deep-pit mining is-is-"

"You're saying the d.a.m.ned planet feels mining operations?" Farminger Ball demanded, staring with round eyes at Marmion.