With Friends Like These... Part 5

"Meaning I'm not under arrest, right?"

"As you are well aware I have no grounds for an arrest. Wish I did. But I suspect you will come with me -out of curiosity if for no other reason. I will not delay you long-a moment or two out of your vacation is all I request."

Sawbill hesitated. Then he tied down the sails and climbed down to the dock. He and Herrera started toward the aircar.

"Where are you going to go, Sawbill?"

"The Marragas Islands, then south to the Anacapa atolls. I'd like to put in there for a bit. I understand most of the reefs around there are still uninhabited and rarely visited. Good fishing, too."

"So I hear," said Herrera. "Most folk around here go north for their vacations. To Three and Ark and Jumbles-pleasure towns. Where all their surprises can be arranged for them. All the entertainment galactic ingenuity can provide. And build."

There was a lot of blood in the room, which was done in blue and gold. The red blood contrasted strangely. The electric curtains were drawn back, admitting the sun. They were for effect only, since the gla.s.s was fully polarized. The sunlight gave added obscenity to the stains.

What was left of the body of the girl was sprawled across the back of the couch, facing the open window. She had been torn apart. Her insides were strewn across half the room. Her face, Sawbill could see, probably had once been pretty, possibly even beautiful.

Terence Wu was also in the room. All over it. A bit here, a fragment there. Sawbill could make out an arm protruding from under the couch. Nothing was attached 65.. ,,.

to the arm. A leg dangled from the mantel over the quaint, wood-burning fireplace.

The corpse of Jasper Jordan was in the bathroom, slumped over the rim of the sunken oval tub.

Herrera was watching Sawbill closely, "According to what we've been able to piece together with the help of the building computer, Jordan broke in some time around three in the morning. Probably he just wanted to talk to the girl. For some reason she had forgotten to set her doorseal. When he came in he found them on the rug. There, in front of the fireplace." Herrera pointed. "He didn't even try to talk to them, is my guess. Could be he'd taken something. Blood a.n.a.lysis and tissue evaluation show the presence of complex hormones in his body. Puzzled the lab boys for quite a while. They're not used to seeing that kind of stuff."

Herrera watched Sawbill steadily.

"A fast check on Jordan's credit count revealed the recent transfer of the rather surprising sum of twenty-one thousand credits to one individual. You."

"This whole procedure is quite illegal," injected Saw-bill mildly.

"Oh, to be sure, to be sure," said Herrera. "Our information cannot be used in court-and obviously is not going to be."

"I have tapes of the transaction, too."

"I'm sure you do," replied Herrera. "And I've no doubt it was all done with the greatest respect for the letter of the law."

"Quite."

"I'm going to have to compose some sort of explanation for the faxpax and for relatives. These people were no b.u.ms. Three nominally respected citizens have died here. Just for my own information and to satisfy my morbid curiosity, what did you sell him?"

"Anger."

"I see. Anger." Herrera looked around and took in the wholesale carnage. "A little anger did all this?"

"Ordinarily it would not. You must believe that."

66.The Emoman "Oh, sure. Yeah."

Sawbill shrugged. "I agree with you. When Jordan walked in on Wu and the girl I don't think he'd taken a thing. Knowing the sort he was I expected him to try reason after what I'd told him."

"I'll bet you did."

"I mean that! Otherwise I wouldn't have sold to him. Neither man was inherently vicious. I warned Jordan enough against taking the seven. But when he came in and found them making love he obviously went berserk. The seven integrals of the star should be taken an hour apart. That's leaving a quarter-hour safety limit, which I never mention. A half-hour is the real danger point. He must have downed them all at once. The result is unimaginable to most men. Overwhelming. Few minds could handle such an abrupt release. He couldn't. But I was correct about his innate mental control and discipline."

Herrera gestured angrily around them. "You call this control?"

"Yes! He had enough sense left to kill himself. He did kill himself?"

"We took the knife back to the lab," admitted Herrera.

"What he was undergoing was to normal anger as a nova is to a normal sun. A less controlled individual would have stumbled from the room and gone to kill a hundred people in an orgy of release."

"I don't understand how any drug can boost an emotion like that," murmured Herrera, shaking his head.

"It doesn't 'boost' the emotion-or add to it or multiply it," Sawbill said. "That's the common mistake everyone makes. They don't consider the other-those who don't want to beh'eve it. The drug removes the natural safeguards a man's mind has built up to protect and regulate his natural self. It breaks the seal holding air in the tank, doesn't pump more air into it. It removes a million years of evolutionary barriers man has carefully erected to hold back the blackness that lives inside him. Taken properly it does so hi the small- 67.. ..

est way. It isn't dangerous, just effectively awesome. Few men can resist the tiny blot of animal self so set free.

"But when all the safeguards are removed, like this ..."

"I think I see," whispered Herrera.

"May I leave now?"

"What? Oh, yes, you can go. Get out of my sight."

Sawbill paused at the door.

"What about the girl?"

"How do you mean? Oh, I understand. What you might expect. She was playing one off against the other. Jordan was a little more naive than Wu, I suspect. I hope she enjoyed it." Herrera paused. Then: "I checked you with Central and Customs, hoping I could get you on illegal entry. No such luck. I see you got your doctorate in endocrinology from the University of Belem. That's on Terra, isn't it?"

Sawbill nodded. He was halfway out of the room.

"One other thing," Herrera said hurriedly. "I've never met one of you before. Tell me, is it true what they say about you Emomen?"

"What do they say about us Emomen?"

"That you haven't any true emotions of your own? That you're so tied up in playing G.o.d that you've lost your own capacity to feel? That your humanity's atrophied?"

"Oh, there's no doubt about it," said Sawbill. He closed the door quietly behind him.

68.s.p.a.ce Opera Sometimes a science-fiction story is the coming together of seemingly diverse elements. You may have one idea which in itself is insufficient on which to hang a story. And another, seemingly unrelated idea.

Unrelated? Listen, in science fiction, everything relates. Including a preoccupation with the less intellectual aspects of current daytime entertainment, the arrogance of humanity, and the relaxed indifference of that rare personality who just wants to get on with the job at hand.

Put them all together and you've got a ...

The biggest drawback in the gleaming functional desk, Commander Cleve reflected, was its d.a.m.nable impervi-ousness. Since it was composed of diamondlike silicone plastic, his nails could only sc.r.a.pe futilely across the smooth surface, and at the moment, he was in the mood to mark something, On the other side of the desk, Lieutenant Vander- 69.WITH: FRIENDS LIKE THESE . ..

meer shifted slightly in his seat. He recognized the commander's mood and was uncomfortably aware of the convenient target he made for any localized mayhem the commander might choose to commit.

Cleve stopped trying to make an impression on the desk and looked up.

"I won't let that pipsqueak do it. I refuse!" "Yes sir," said Vandermeer. Vandermeer was a fine lieutenant. He always said just the right thing.

"Exceptional stupidity requires foresight, .planning, and careful preparation to be properly effective. But this fellow. Himpel . . . Hurmal . . ." "Hinkel, sir."

"Yes, this Hinkel's talent for improvising really remarkable idiocy on the spur of the moment is astonishing. And I fear the Council may support it! Perhaps I shall simply join his sphere of insanity. It may be the only solution." "Yes sir." "What?"

"I... I mean, no sir."

Cleve sighed and slumped in his genuine starfox, red and silver hand-rubbed mahogany swivel chair. "It's not an unreasonable request, is it, Lieutenant? After all, this is the third expedition to t.i.tan. It's not as if anything really newsworthy were happening. We're only here to set up a small life-support station for the next three expeditions. And for the miners. A few simple solidosemis, habitats, an oxy-conversion plant . . . stuff like that. Why bring along a big newscast crew with a caster as big as Hurkel?"

"Hinkel, sir. As I understand it, the ISA and Admiral Howard thought it would give us some excellent publicity, sir. What with the current furor over funding and all, a few dramatic location shots of exotic t.i.tan and Saturn, added to Hinkel's prestige, should produce ratings that-"

"Ratings!" Cleve roared, purpling. "I'm deathly sick of hearing about Hickey's G.o.dd.a.m.n, G.o.d-awful, got-verstunken, gder... gef...1"

70.s.p.a.ce Opera "Easy, sir. You know what Dr. Galeth said about your blood pressure, particularly in a low-grav environment."

"Yes, Lieutenant, yes, yes. It's just that I cannot, I purely cannot, permit this man to interfere in any way with the negotiations. The Murrin are an utterly unfamiliar quant.i.ty. They could react in an infinitude of ways to anything we say, do, bint at, or even the way we walk. I cannot risk jeopardizing man's first meeting with an intelligent alien race for the sake of ... of ratings." The last word was given the accent usually reserved for ultimate loathsomeness-most often senators who voted against ISA funding and apricots, to which the commander was violently allergic.

Bronislaw Hinkel chose that moment to present himself.

Vandermeer intercepted the diminutive telecaster at the door, blocking him from the commander's view.

"Ah, good morning, Peter! Is the commander busy?"

"Actually, sir, regulation four-two-six-el-ay governing watches between oh-nine-hundred and-"

"Oh, let him in, Lieutenant! Could anyone mistake that dulcet warbling, the pride of post-quickies, the cereal packed in total vacuum, and Channel Three?"

"Thank you, Emmett." Hinkel skipped adroitly past the lieutenant, who closed the door and wished for an attack of partial deafness.

Cleve, however, appeared determined to remain civil. Perhaps, the lieutenant thought hopefully, the commander was rationing his daily quota of bile.

Bronislaw Hinkel was a familiar figure to nearly a billion telecast addicts. An impressive figure who represented votes. Even now, off the air, every strand of his famous wavy gray hair knew its proper place. The short, brush mustache was trimmed and protruded just the correct distance above the strong lips. The dark brown eyes under the heavy salt-and-pepper brows imparted at once sincerity, knowledge, and comfort.

71.. ..

"Well, what can I do for you this time, Mr. Hinkel?*' Cleve said pleasantly.

"As long as you brought the subject up, Emmett, there really are one or two things about the upcoming meeting that-"

Cleve interrupted, still calm. "Is there something wrong with the plans for the upcoming meeting, Mr. Hinkel?"

"Nothing that can't be corrected easily enough," said Hinkel, cheerfully. "How rea.s.suring."

"Yes. Now Bess-that's my chief camerawoman, you know-"

"No, I didn't know."

"Uh. Well anyway, one thing she simply insists on is that we locate at least one crew between the Reykjavik and the alien. It's necessary in order for us to be able to properly doc.u.ment the full drama of your departure from the ship, and all. Ideally, of course, we'd need another crew similarly placed with respect to the alien ship. I don't suppose you'd okay that?" He ended on a hopeful note. "No, I'm afraid..."

"Well, don't let it trouble you, Commander! I have instructed my staff not to get underfoot in any way- barring what needs to be done to perform required journalistic activity, of course."

"That's certainly a considerable relief to me, Mr. Hinkel. It means that you'll react favorably, quietly, when I-inform you that I cannot permit a crew to be stationed between the Reykjavik and the alien vessel. No . . ." Cleve raised a hand to still the incipient protest, "... allow me to explain.

"If your crew a.s.sumes any position, at a respectable distance, between here and the Murrin ship, it could conceivably come into the line of fire from the Reykjavik's weaponry."

"The same situation your greeting party will be in, Commander."

72.s.p.a.ce Opera "Quite true. Those gentlemen, however, will be present because they are essential to the success of the operation." Cleve left the obvious correlation unsaid.

"Should you a.s.sume a position anywhere near the Reykjavik, any emergency maneuvering the ship would be impelled to perform would incinerate your crew instantly! As for newsmen's risks, I am compelled to remind you that you are along on this mission on sufferance. Your safety and well-being are solely my responsibility."

"Bull! First, I'm along because my reputation warrants it and Channel Three's worldwide facilities w.a.n.gled it. And as to newsmen's risks, as you so quaintly put it, my crews and I have indeed faced far greater risks than this!"

"Nevertheless, I-"

"Okay, okay! Spare me the officialese. I'll have only two crews, both set up at a good distance from the Reykjavik, They'll manage with telephotos."

Hinkel reached into the leather case on his lap and pulled out a thick stack of brightly colored papers. "Now. Win Hunter, my chief writer, has come up with what I think are some really socko suggestions for the actual ceremony of contact. You know, greeting the mysterious aliens, and all. If you'd care to peruse them, I'm sure ..."

Cleve's chair was displaying marked evidence of a highly localized seismic disturbance. Vandermeer moved quickly forward.

"Um ... Commander, I was thinking ..."

"Relax, Lieutenant. I'm quite . . . quite all right," Cleve said, reaching out and gracefully accepting the proffered suggestions.

"One other thing, Emmett," Hinkel said. "When we film the actual moment of contact . . ."

The Commander sighed. He knew this would come up. "Sir, I fear that once the Murrin commander and his party leave their ship, I cannot permit additional filming to take place."

73.WITH FRIENBS LIKE THESE . ..

It was Hinkel's turn to sit speechless. "Your equipment, both the portables and that ghastly heavy big job, bear an unfortunate likeness to ray projectors. Which, in a sense, they are. The Murrin are no doubt as unfamiliar with our technology as we are with theirs. Witness that insane a.s.semblage of angles out on the plain. Yet it seems to carry them from star to star.

"Our exchange of language has been hampered by the lack of experience and trained people on our side. However, it is now sufficient to permit several things. One of these is this first official meeting, a big deal with the Murrin. Among the details they suggested be implemented was the obvious one of neither group carrying or presenting weapons."

"If that's the case," said Hinkel slyly, "then how do you explain your objection to our shooting angles by complaining that they'd interfere with your 'line of fire'?"

"As stated, neither group will display weaponry. At no time will the Reykjavik's lasers be in evidence. I'd bet that the Murrin ship is far better armed. The important thing is that no portable weapons be visible. For psychological and practical reasons."

"Granting all your reasoning, which I do not, isn't the import of this moment, the need to have everyone on earth a part of it, enough to outweigh a few ethereal maybes on your part?" "There are other reasons." "Name one!" Hinkel snapped. Cleve allowed his voice a bit more customary bark, and Vandermeer winced. "All right! Let's suppose- just suppose-that I permit you to telecast the whole business, from start to whatever finish, from close-in? We know little of Murrin technology. We know even less of their psychology and sociology, of what they might regard as proper and what they might interpret as offensive. Might they not be curious as to your functioning on the periphery of the encounter?

74.s.p.a.ce Opera "Disregarding, for the moment, an infinitude of possibilities of alien reactions ranging from spirit-stealing, to unimaginable phobias, let's say that they perceive exactly what you and your crew are doing."

"If they're half as clever as you seem to think they are, they ought to," said Hinkel.