Final Inquiries (12 page)

It seemed the sort of remark that called for a response, but Jamie remembered what Brox had said about only answering when necessary, and kept his mouth shut. In fact, he was perfectly happy to let Hannah do all the talking. And he wasn't even remotely tempted to try any smart remarks of any kind. Not in this place.

Zeeraum lifted a data display pad in her left manipulator and went on talking as she consulted it. "You are here to investigate the matter at the human embassy," she said. She stabbed her right manipulator again. "But there are two of you here. The arrangement was for only one human to come. You are commanded to explain."

"We--we were not informed of the details of the arrangement," said Hannah. "We were simply ordered by our superiors to come here and perform a task we would learn of upon arrival."

"But we agreed to only one! One of you must return! Reply!"

"We work as a unit. We are partners."

"Together, you are one investigator?"

"It is possible for us to work each alone, but we perform our duties much better when we work together."

"Ah. Very good. We are told always how apart, apart, apart you all are. Together is better. Very well. Both may stay."

Zeeraum seemed to consult her data display again, though it was hard to tell when she had eyes of one sort or another all over her body.

Jamie was having a harder time of this than he had imagined. It was impossible to determine where exactly her voice was coming from, and it was hugely disconcerting to have nothing like a face to look at. He suddenly noticed something crawling up Zeeraum's back--a pale-colored creature that looked like a Vixan Twelve, but only about the size of a small cat. It was a struggle to do so, but he managed to suppress the impulse to shout out a warning. He spotted another of the creatures moving around on the floor--and two more crawling from under Zeeraum's body. What were they?

"If you are partners, are you of equal ability?" Zeeraum demanded.

"Not precisely equal. Each of us is more skilled than the other in different areas, in ways that complement and amplify our combined ability."

Obviously, Hannah had latched on to Zeeraum's approving of togetherness and partnership, and was playing that up.

"Very sensible. The other one. Does the other one speak? You! Other one. You are ordered to speak if you can!"

"I can speak," Jamie said, in a voice that was higher and squeakier than he would have wanted to admit.

"Good. Not that it matters. One may speak for all." Somehow, the way Zeeraum said that made it sound like an adage, a rule to live by. "What do you know of the matter at the embassies, other one?"

Embassies? Plural?
That right there was more than Jamie knew. "Nothing whatsoever."

"But how can you investigate without knowledge? Reply!" There was a sort of soft plopping noise from the top of Zeeraum's body, and a rounded sheath or sphincter of skin about forty centimeters across relaxed and drew back. Jamie remembered the Vixan mouth--or at least its close analog to a mouth--was on top of its head--or least where its head would be. As the skin of the mouth drew back, it revealed what appeared to be a pile of small bones and bits of skin.

The small creature that had been crawling up Zeeraum's back started collecting the bones, gathering them up in two of its manipulator arms. Another of the smaller helper Vixa started climbing up the front of Zeeraum's body. The Grand Vixan patted it absently, the way one might a cat that was casually sauntering by, but otherwise paid no attention to any of its activities.

"We--we will gain knowledge when we arrive," Jamie said, trying not to watch but failing utterly. He was starting to feel distinctly queasy. "By limiting our knowledge before arrival, we avoid forming wrong impressions based on faulty or incomplete data."

"You talk too much, other one. Stop. First human. Other problem. The human ambassador is your superior. How can you investigate his other subordinates--or him? The part cannot contend with the whole." Again, the last statement sounded like an adage that all were expected to know.

"The ambassador is not my superior. I--we--are sent by
his
superiors, and ours. We can investigate, accuse, arrest, and detain anyone at the embassy--including the ambassador--if we find evidence of crimes committed by that person." She paused, and then risked a word or two more. "Please forgive my long speech."

"Your apology is wrong. You provided required information." Zeeraum thought. "Strange idea, crime. Only for individual-centered species. Vixa have no crime. We have no problems. So you are outside embassy hierarchy? You are controlled by a superior, external hierarchy? Reply in very few words this time."

"Yes," said Hannah, and left it at that.

The two helper Vixa finished removing the small pile of bones from Zeeraum's mouth, which was still sagging open. Zeeraum pointed her manipulator at Brox. "You there. You are not human. You are Kendari. You are with the humans. You brought them here." Zeeraum spoke with an attitude that implied Brox would have been unaware of any of these facts if she had not told him. "My briefing says you are all three to make one investigation. Your peoples hate each other. Don't you want to kill these humans?"

"No, I do not," Brox said evenly, though the twitching of his tail betrayed his agitation. He seemed tempted to elaborate but followed his own instructions to keep his answers short.

"First human! Do you wish to kill this Kendari? Don't you want to kill all Kendari? Can you work with this one?"

"I don't want to kill this Kendari, or any Kendari. We have worked with this Kendari before and can do so now."

"All of this is most surprising," said Zeeraum. She reached out casually with her front two manipulators and picked up one of the little helper Vixa. She cradled it in her left hand and patted it thoughtfully, like a little old lady picking up her toy poodle to pet it. "I am thinking," Zeeraum announced. Suddenly she lifted the little helper Vixa up over her head and dropped it into that gaping, obscene-looking mouth. The sphincter abruptly snapped shut, sealing the creature in.

Jamie could see the skin around the sides of the mouth-chamber bulge out here and there as the helper struggled inside, and he could hear what sounded like a tiny, high-pitched scream that went on and on. Zeeraum scratched herself absently, and the other helper Vixa trundled about their duties, displaying no reaction at all. None of the escort Vixa paid the slightest attention.

It took all of Jamie's will to keep from screaming himself. Hannah's hands were bunched up into fists, and her face was an expressionless mask. Only the quiver at her jawline betrayed her emotions.

"Very well," said Zeeraum, her voice unchanged. The muffled screams and the struggles inside her mouth subsided. "All is very odd and unusual, but your act of submission is accepted. You are granted permission to remain as independent investigators, not controlled by the embassy hierarchy. That is all." Zeeraum made a low burbling noise that might have been a laugh, or a belch, or even a rude comment in her own language. "Welcome," she said. "Welcome to civilization."

SEVEN

THE LAST DUTY

They got out of there, somehow. Their escort led them to what was either the same landing bay or its identical twin. SubPilot Greveltra was there, waiting to fly them on in a smaller vehicle, a cylindrical aircar roughly the size and shape of the jeep-tug they had started off in, endless hours before. Their luggage was already stowed on the craft. The two simulants, human and Kendari, immediately collapsed back into rag-doll mode the moment they were aboard. Hannah very much felt like following suit.

None of them managed to say much of consequence until they were airborne and on their way.

"I'm trying," Hannah said. "I'm trying as hard as I can to remind myself they're xenos, aliens, totally different from us. They won't fit in our patterns, we can't judge them by our standards. All of that. All of that. But I still want to run away screaming from this place."

"They are not like us," Brox agreed.

"That's an understatement," Jamie said. "Wait a second--who's the 'us' in what you just said. Kendari? You're not suggesting humans are like--"

"What? Oh, no! Forgive me, not at all. You are not in the least like the Vixa. I meant--well, what did I mean exactly? 'Species like ours,' I suppose. Species that don't have biological castes. Species that have a culture that permits broad individualism. Or perhaps species that don't appear decadent, even morbidly degenerate, to Kendari sensibilities."

"'We Younger Race deadly-enemies-of-each-other have to stick together?'" Jamie suggested.

Brox tilted his head at Jamie and looked at him oddly. "Something like that. But Special Agent Wolfson is quite right. They
are
alien. Their ways are disturbing. We have just witnessed an act that would be regarded, at best, as the next thing to cannibalism in either of our cultures. It is the norm here. The superior may kill the inferior at any time."

"So they have one biological caste that combines the functions of the personal groomer, the pet, and the snack?" Jamie asked.

"Apparently. I had not personally witnessed that particular--ah, behavior before myself. But our rules, our laws, simply do not apply here. And even if they did, we do not have the power--or the right--to impose them."

"So let's leave it there," Hannah said. "We've got enough on our plate already. Brox. Where are we going now? To the human embassy?"

"Yes. And to the Kendari embassy, which is directly adjacent. We will be there very soon."

Hannah looked down on the quarter they were flying over. She instantly understood why Brox had called it a diplomatic ghetto. Below she could see dozens of walled compounds, arranged in a gridlike fashion, with access roads running between them.

The land itself was barren, a clumpy reddish soil dotted here and there with forlorn-looking plants that looked as if they had given up the struggle long ago. Everything was streaked or dotted or caked with dull red dust. The architecture of the structures inside the compounds varied tremendously, as if each was straining to stand out, make itself noticed, but the dulling red dust seemed to blot out all differences.

"How many embassies are there?" Jamie asked.

"Several hundred, at least," said Brox. "There are many less powerful Elder Races that have business before the Vixa of one sort or another. And then, of course, out at the very edge of things are the most junior and least deserving of all--the two Younger Races. And I should note that all that you see is quite old--and quite new. The capital-city designation 'Grand Warren' changes to conform with the residence of each new Preeminent Director. Until an Earth year or so ago, the various embassies were to be found in the Founder's Column City, out in space, where the Founder's Column meets the Stationary Ring. All the buildings and structures before you had been vacant for many long decades, since the last time Rivertide was the Grand Warren."

The aircar was flying over the roadways, and Hannah noticed that Greveltra seemed to be careful not to venture over the walls that separated the various embassy compounds from the roadways. "It looks like they are very careful about airspace around here," she said.

"An acute observation," said Brox. "Each embassy controls its own airspace up to something like twenty-two hundred and thirty meters, if I am converting measures properly. That's one reason we had to transfer out of the command sphere. It is simply too large to fly over the roads in the embassy quarter without impinging on xeno-sovereign airspace. And here we are, approaching our own homes away from home." Brox raised his voice. "SubPilot Greveltra, I ask that you hold this position for a brief time, so that the humans may view the area."

They eased to a halt at the far end of the block of walled compounds. The two compounds consisted of almost precisely square areas surrounded by four-meter walls made of something akin to concrete painted white. They were right up against each other, sharing a separating wall, so that the two of them together formed a rectangle twice as long as it was wide. There were access roads on all four sides of the two compounds, so that neither of them shared a common wall with any of the other nearby embassies.

"They put us right next to each other, and away from everyone else," Jamie observed. "Put two scorpions in a bottle, and hope they sting each other to death."

Hannah studied the view closely. Somewhere down there was a crime scene. From all the broad hints, it had to be a murder. Where, exactly, in which of the two compounds it had happened, Hannah had no idea. But it would unquestionably be useful to know the general layout of the place.

There was no one visible outside in either compound, but Hannah could tell at a glance that the one farther from the center of the city was the human embassy. The structures, the vehicles, all the things she could see were obviously human-built.

Hannah gave her first attention to the opposition, but the Kendari complex told her little from the air. The buildings were lower and wider than a human would have designed them. They were laid out in a precise and orderly pattern. No one building seemed particularly larger or more important than the others. Maybe a Kendari--or a BSI photo-interpreter--would have been able to read something from the layout, construction, and status of the buildings, but she couldn't see anything that would tell her much beyond that.

The human compound was another story. And, she realized with a start, the main structure, what she took to be the main embassy building, was actually a grounded spacecraft. Other structures had been built right alongside it and seemed to be joined to it, but it was a spacecraft all the same. It made sense in a way, especially given that you might have to do business where the air or the gravity or whatever didn't suit humans. Just land the ship, open the hatch, and your embassy was ready for business immediately. She had heard of the Diplomatic Service landing ships, but she had never seen an example of it.

From the utilitarian main buildings to the oversized communication shed to the heavy-duty ground vehicles and aircars, parked in precise rows, there was nothing gracious or elegant about the human compound. Everything--or almost everything--was rough-use grade, military-spec, field equipment.