To the Stars Trilogy Part 2

"Oh, h.e.l.l," one of them said, standing up straight and holding the others back with his hands. "No more fight-ing. We've botched this thing nicely."

"We can't stop now...

"Yes we can. Get below." He turned to Jan. "You as well."

'~What have you done to her?"

"Nothing important. An injection to make her sleep. We had one for you too, but poor Ota got the shot instead..."

"You can't force me to go.

"Don't be a fool!" the man shouted in sudden anger. "We could have left you to drown-but we surfaced to save your lives. And every moment we are exposed puts ours in danger. Stay here if you want."

He turned and followed the others through the door-way, helping pa.s.s down the unconscious Aileen.

Jan hesi-tated only an instant, then followed. He still was not going to commit suicide.

He blinked in the fierce red glow of the compart-ment, figures like ruddy devils around him. For the mo-ment he was ignored as the hatch was sealed shut, orders shouted, the deck tilted abruptly. When they were safely below the surface, the man who had spoken to him on deck turned from the periscope and waved Jan toward the door at the end of the compartment.

"Let's go to my cabin. Get some dry clothes for you, something warm to drink. The girl will be taken care of too, don't worry."

Jan sat on the edge of the neatly made bunk, glad of the warmth of the blanket about his shoulders, shivering strongly. He was handed a cup of sweet tea which he sipped at gratefully. His savior~or captor?-sat in the chair opposite lighting his pipe. A man in his fifties, gray hair and tanned skin, dressed in a worn khaki uniform with epaulets of rank on his shoulders.

"I am Captain Tachauer," he said, blowing out a cloud of rank smoke. "Could I have your name?"

"Kulozik. Jan Kulozik. Who are you and what are you doing here? And why the attempt to knock us out?"

"It seemed a good idea at the time. No one wanted to leave you two up there to drown, though it was suggested at least once with a marked lack of enthusiasm. We are not murderers. Yet if we saved you it would reveal our pres-ence and there could be major repercussions. Finally the sleeping shots were suggested and approved. What else could we do? But it's obvious we're not professionals at this sort of thing. Ota got his own needle and is now having a good snore for himself."

"Who are you?" Jan asked again, looking at the unfa-miliar uniform, at the books in a rack on the wall printed in an alphabet he had never seen before. Captain Tachauer sighed heavily.

"Israeli Navy," he said. "Welcome aboard."

'Thank you-and thank you as well for saving our lives. I just don't understand why you were worried about us seeing you. If you are involved in security work for the UNO Navy, I'll keep my mouth shut. I have a security clearance."

"Please, Mr. Kulozik, no more." The Captain raised his hand in a stopping motion. "You speak out of igno-ranceof the political situation here."

"Ignorance! I'm no prole. My education contains two graduate degrees."

The Captain's eyebrows lifted in appreciation of the degrees, but he did not seem too excited by them.

"I'm not referring to your technical expertise, which I am sure is considerable, but to certain gaps in your knowledge of world history produced by erro~rs of fact that are firmly implanted in your textbooks."

"I don't know what you are talking about, Captain Tachauer. We have no censorship in our education in Brit-ain. In the Soviet States, perhaps, but not in ours. I have complete freedom of access to any book in our libraries, as well as computer printouts of as many as I wish to consult."

"Very impressive," the Captain said, not looking impressed. "I have no intention of arguing politics with you at this time of night in our present condition. I just want to tell you as an inescapable fact that the nation of Israel is not a UNO conclav? of factories and farms as you have been taught in your schools. It is a free and indepen-dent nation-almost the only one left on the face of the globe. But we can keep our independence as long as we don't leave this area or make our position known to anyone other than the ruling powers of your world. That is the danger we faced when we rescued you. Your knowl-edge of our existence, particularly here in this body of water where we are not supposed to be, could cause us immense damage. It might even lead to the nuclear de-struction of our country. Your rulers have never been happy with our existence. If they thought they could get away unscathed they would obliterate us tomorrow..."

The telephone buzzed and Captain Tachatier picked it up. He listened and muttered an answer.

"I'm needed," he said, standing. "Make yourself com-fortable. There's more tea here in the thermos:'

What on earth had he been talking about? Jan sipped the strong tea, rubbing unconsciously at the black and blue bruise that was beginning to appear on his leg. The history books can't lie. Yet this submarine was here-and acting very circ.u.mspectly-and they were obviously wor-ried about something. He wished that he wasn't so tired, his thoughts so clogged.

"Feeling any better?" the girl said, slipping through the curtains that covered the doorway, then sitting in the Captain's chair. She had blond hair and green eyes and was very attractive. She wore a khaki blouse and shorts, her legs were tanned and smooth, and Jan drew his eyes away from them with an embarra.s.sed start. She smiled. "My name is Sara and you are Jan Kulozik. Anything more I can get you?"

"No, thank you. Wait, yes, some information. Do you know what those ships were doing that ran us down? I want to report them."

"I don't know."

But she added nothing else. Just sat and looked at him calmly. The silence grew until he realized that was all she was going to say.

"Aren't you going to tell me?" he asked.

"No. It's for your own good. If you reveal your knowledge at any time you will be put instantly on the security suspect list and watched. For the rest of your life. Your advancement, career, everything will be in jeopardy until the end of your days."

"I'm afraid, Sara, that you know very little about my country. We have Security, yes, in fact my brother-in-law is a rather high officer. But we don't have anything like that. For proles, perhaps, if they are known troublemakers. They must be watched. But not for someone in my position ...

"What exactly is your position?"

"I'm an engineer, from a good family. I have the best connections.

"I see. One of the oppressors. A slave master."

"I resent the implications of that..."

"I'm not implying anything, Jan. Just stating a fact. You have your kind of society and we have ours. A democracy. Maybe it's a word you don't even know. It doesn't matter since we are probably the last democracy in the world. We rule ourselves and we are all equal. As opposed to your slaveocracy where all are born unequal, live and die that way since nothing can ever change. From your point of view I'm sure it doesn't look so bad. Since you're the one on the top. But don't rock the boat. Your personal position could change very quickly if you were under suspicion. There is vertical mobility in your culture in only one direction. Down."

Jan laughed aloud. "Nonsense."

"Do you really believe that? All right. I'll tell you about the ships. There is a brisk trade in drugs through the Red Sea. The traditional trade from the east. Heroin for the ma.s.ses. Smuggled in through Egypt or Turkey. Where there is a need-and your proles have a great need for escape-there is always money and men who will supply it. None of these drugs goes through the areas we control, we see to that, which is another reason why we are suffered to exist. This submarine patrol is just one of the ways we make sure.

As long as the smugglers stay away from us we ignore them. But your state security forces have patrols as well and one of these was after that smuggler that almost ran you down. It was the coast guard that hit you. We doubt if they saw you in the darkness. In any case, they did take care of the smuggler. We saw the light of the explosion, and we tracked the coast guard returning to port alone."

Jan shook his head. "I've never heard of any of this. The proles have all the be nnies and joints they need..."

"They need far stronger drugs to numb the existence that they lead. Now, please, stop interrupting every min-ute to say you have never heard about any of this. I know that-and that is why I am trying to tell you what is happening. The world as it really is is not the world you have been told about. It shouldn't matter to you, in the ruling minority, fat and rich in a hungry world. But you wanted to know. So I am telling you that Israel is a free and independent country. When all of the Arabian oil ran out the world turned their back on the Near East, happy at last to be free of the burden of the rich sheikhs. But we are here permanently-and the Arabs won't go away. They tried invasion again, but without material from outside, they couldn't win. We stayed alive, just barely, a capacity we have shown before. And we did what we could to help when things got bad. When Arab populations stabilized we taught them the traditional farming crafts of this part of the world, things they had forgotten in their years of financial exuberance. By the time the rest of the world took notice of us we had the area stabilized, viable. There were fruits and vegetables for export. It was a situation they were not happy with-but one that they accepted.

Particularly when we demonstrated that our nuclear rockets were as good as theirs and if they wanted to destroy us they would have to accept a good deal of destruction of their own. And that situation has continued to the present day. Perhaps our entire country is a ghetto, but we are used to living in ghettos.

And within our walls we are free.

Jan started to protest again, then thought better of it and sipped at his tea. Sara nodded approvingly.

"So now you know. For your own sake don't spread the knowledge around. And for our sake I am going to ask you to do us a favor. The Captain would not ask a favor of you, but I have no such compunction. Don't tell anyone. about this submarine. For your own security as well. We are going to put you ash.o.r.e in a few minutes, on the beach where you could have drifted after the accident. They'll find you there. The girl knows nothing. She was apparently unconscious, concussion, when they gave her the shot. She will be all right, the doctor says that there is no danger. You will be all right too if you keep your mouth shut. Will you?"

"Yes, of course, I won't say anything. You saved our lives. But I think a lot of what you said is lies, it has to be."

"That's very nice." She reached over and patted his arm. "You think whatever you like, ingiieh, as long as you keep your big goyish mouth shut."

Before he could muster up an answer she was out of the door and gone. The Captain did not return and no one else talked to him until he was ordered on deck. Aileen was brought up as well, with great haste, and they were paddled ash.o.r.e to an invisible sh.o.r.e in an inflatable dinghy. The moon was behind high clouds but gave enough light to make out the beach and the desert beyond. Aileen was placed gently in the sand and the blanket pulled roughly from his shoulders. The cushion from the yacht was thrown down and then they disappeared. Being as gentle as possible, Jan pulled Aileen above the tide line; the only marks in the sand were of his own making. The dinghy and the submarine were gone, vanished and only a memory. A memory that seemed more and more unreal with every pa.s.sing minute.

It was soon after sunrise that the search copter spot-ted them and settled down for a landing on the sh.o.r.e nearby.

Four.

'Absolutely sound. Fit as a fiddle," the doctor said. Tap-ping the readout on the screen. "Look at that blood pressure-wish I had one like it. EKG, EEG, all of it just fine. Here, I'll give you a printout for your o~n physician, for his records." He touched the controls on the computer diagnostician and a long sheet of typing emerged.

"It's not myself I'm worrying about, it's Mrs. Pett.i.t."

"Please don't concern yourself, my dear young man. The fat doctor patted Jan's knee with more thanprofes-sional sympathy. Jan moved his leg away and looked coldly at the man. "She has had a mild concussion, swallowed a little sea water, nothing more. You can see her whenever you want to. I would like her to stay in the hospital for a day. To rest mostly, since she needs no medical care. And here is your medical readout."

"I don't want it. Have it transferred to my company's records for the physicians."

"That could be difficult."

"Why? You have a satellite link, the call can be made easily. I can pay for it if you feel it is not within the hospital's budget."

"No such thing! Of course I shall take care of it instantly. Let us just, ha-ha, unplug you first." The doc-tor's hands moved efficiently, detaching the tell-tales from Jan's skin, slipping the needle from his vein, then dabbing his skin with alcohol.

Jan was pulling on his trousers when the door burst open and a familiar voice called out to him.

"There you are, alive and well, you had me worried."

"Smitty! What are you doing here?"

Jan took his brother-in-law's hand and pumped it enthusiastically. The great beak of a nose, the lean and hard features, were a touch of home among the rotund softness of the locals. Thurgood-Smythe seemed just as pleased to see him.

"You gave me quite a scare. I was in Italy, at a conference, when word reached me. Pulled some strings, grabbed a military jet, and was just landing when they said you had been found. I must say, you don't look any the worse for the experience."

"You should have seen me last night hanging onto the cushion with one arm and Aileen with the other-and kicking with one leg. Not something I would like to do a second time: "It sounds quite the experience. Put on your shirt and I'll buy you a drink and you'll tell me all about it. Did you see the ship that ran you down?"

Jan had turned to get his shirt and he pushed his arms into the sleeves. All of the warnings of the night came back in a rush. Had Smitty's voice changed when he had asked that last, not-so-innocent question?

He was Security after all-with enough status to commandeer a military jet in the middle of the night. Now was the moment. To tell the whole truth~or to begin to lie. He pulled the shirt over his head, his voice m.u.f.fled a bit by the fabric.

"Nothing. Night black as pitch, neither ship with a light. First one went past so close we almost capsized-the second sank us." No lies there so far. "I'd like to find out who the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds were. My fault for being out there without any lights, but still..."

'Absolutely right, old son. Plant a rocket and I'll help you to do it. I put a tracer out on them. Two navy ships on maneuvers and well out of the area where they should have been. As soon as they doc~ they are going to hear a thing or two, you can be sure of that."

"The h.e.l.l with it, Smitty, it was an accident."

"You're too nice to them-but you're a gentleman. Now let's look in on Aileen, then get that drink."

Aileen kissed them both soundly, then cried a bit, with joy she said, and insisted on telling Thurgood-Smythe every detail of their adventure. Jan waited, trying not to let the tension show. Would she remember the submarine? And someone was lying; there were two completely differ-ent stories.

Smugglers and an explosion~~r two naval vessels? How could he be sure?

... and-bang! Just like that we werc in the sea. I was choking and blubbering but the ancient mariner here managed to keep my head above water. I'm sure I tried to scratch him for his troubles. Panic! I don't think I knew the meaning of the word before. And my head hurt and things kept getting woozy and going in and out of focus. Then there was a cushion to hang onto and we were floating in the water and I remember him trying to cheer me up and me not believing him at all. And then~nothing."

"Nothing?" Thurgood-Smythe asked.

'A blank. Next thing I knew I was in this bed and they had to tell me what had happened:' She took Jan's hand. 'And I'm never going to be able to thank you. A girl doesn't get her life saved every day.

Now get out of here before I start crying again."

They left the hospital in silence and Thurgood-Smythe pointed to the nearest cafe. "In there all right?"

"Of course. Did you talk to Liz?"

"Not last night. I didn't want to wake her up and start her worrying too. There was no point in putting her through a night of trouble. But I called her this morning as soon as I heard you were safe and she sends all of her sisterly love. And says to stay out of small boats after this."

"That's Liz all right. Cheers."

They raised the~gla.s.ses and drank. The brandy burned, warmed a spot within Jan that he had not known was chilled. It had been close. And it wasn't over yet. He had to fight back the desire t6 tell his brother-in-law everything about the night before. The submarine, the rescue, the two ships, everything.

Wasn't he committing a crime by not reporting what had happened? Only one thing stopped him from blurting out the truth. The Israe-lis had saved his lif~and Sara had said that he would be jeopardizing theirs if he talked about the submarine. For-get it. He had to forget everything.

"I'll have another one of these," he said.

'And I'll join you. Forget about last night and start enjoying your holiday."

"My thoughts exactly:'

But the memory would not go away and was lurking in the corner of his mind ready to pounce whenever he relaxed. When he said good-bye to Thurgood-Smythe at the VTOL pad, there was guilty satisfaction that he would not have to be alert and remember his lies all of the time.

The sun, the food, the water, all were good-although they did not go boating again by unspoken agreement. In bed Aileen expressed her thanks for what he had done with a pa.s.sion that left them both happily exhausted. Yet. the other memory was always there. When he awoke at dawn, her red hair against his cheek, he thought of Sara in the sub and what she had said. Was he living a lie? It didn't seem possible.

The two weeks ended and, in a way, they did not mind turning their backs on the warm waters of that sea. Some memories could be left behind there. They had good tans to show their envious friends back in England and they looked forward to it. And some good meat and potatoes after all the rich and unusual food. Good enough, but you wouldn't want to live on it forever. They parted in the air terminal at Victoria, with one last lingering kiss, and Jan went to his apartment. He made a pot of strong tea and took it to his workroom, unconsciously relaxing as he walked through the door and the lights came on.

The wall over the bench was racked with instruments, their chrome surfaces polished and gleaming. The work-bench was clean, with the rows of tools mounted on it. Held in a frame was the breadboarded apparatus that he had been working on before he had gone away. Jan sat down before it and rotated it-then picked up a jeweler's loupe to examine a soldered connection. It was almost ready to g~if it went at all. It should; the computer simulation had checked out. And the idea was a simple one.

All of the large ocean going vessels used satellites for navigation. There were always at least two of these satel-lites above the horizon anywhere on the ocean. The ship-board navigating instruments sent out a signal that was bounced back by the satellites. These signals, giving the azimuth, direction and angles of elevation of the satellites, were fed into a shipboard computer. It was simple work then for the computer to work out the ship's position in the ocean accurate within a few meters. These navigation instruments were very efficient, but also bulky and quite expensive-which did not matter at all to a large ship. But what about a small navigation instrument? For a personal yacht. Jan had been working for some time on a simplified design that would accomplish the same thing for any ship, no matter what the size. An instrument small enough and cheap enough for anyone to use. If it worked he might even patent it, make a profit. That was in the future. Meanwhile he had to get it to work-then miniaturize all of the components.

Yet he wasn't relaxing here, as he usually did. Some-thing else was on his mind. He finished the last of the tea and took the tray into the kitchen. Then went into the library on the way back and took down volume thirteen of the Encyclopedia Britannica and flipped through the pages to the entry he wanted.

ISRAEL. Manufacturing and agricultural enclave on the sh.o.r.es of the Mediterranean. Former site of the Nation of Israel. Depopulated during the plague years and resettled by UNO volunteers in 2065. Now administers the Arab farmlands to the north and south and is responsible for all ship-ments of produce from the area.

There it was, in black and white, in a book he could trust. The facts of history shorn of all emotion. Just facts, facts...

That was untrue. He had been on that submarine, and had talked with the Israelis. Or some people who called themselves Israelis. Had they been? If not, who were they really? What had he got involved with?