Orion Shall Rise (27 page)

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Authors: Poul Anderson

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BOOK: Orion Shall Rise
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In the course of their mission, the inspectors demanded to visit those mountains across Cook Inlet where none but a chosen few had gone for close to twenty years.

‘Why is it restricted?’ Commander Okuma Samuelo asked.

‘Not exactly restricted,’ Benyo replied, in Maurai better than his visitor’s Unglish. ‘People are strongly requested to stay away, and most hereabouts belong to the Wolf Lodge, whether from the start or by later marriage and reallegiance. Voluntary cooperation is the basis of our whole society, you know.’ His tone grew a trifle sardonic. ‘Social pressure too, of course. It gets mighty powerful in a frontier area like this, where mutual goodwill
is
important to survival. Non-members respect the reservation also, for that reason. Why not? We have no shortage of real estate.’

‘Please don’t play games with me, sir,’ Okuma said. ‘What are you doing there?’

‘Why, you know that after the industrial project failed, we took over and established a wildlife refuge. Partly it’s insurance – in view of population growth throughout the North – but mainly it’s for scientific purposes, ecological studies, genetic, everything that I’m sure you can well appreciate. The Wolf Lodge is doing it, with help from individuals who belong to others, because ours has always had an intellectual tradition. For centuries we’ve supplied more than our share of scientists, scholars, teachers, and military officers.’

‘Yes, military,’ Okuma muttered. ‘You’re paramilitary at least, to this day, aren’t you? … Why has your team published so little?’

A smile creased the old man’s face. ‘We may be competitive businessmen, we Norries, but we aren’t competitive academics. A Lodge looks after its own, gives them time to develop their undertakings – generations, if need be – and doesn’t hanker for immediate glory. Besides, there are never many persons involved yonder. A large group would spoil the very things they hope to observe.’

‘I have reason to believe substantial shipments have frequently been made to the site, not only in the past but every year since.’

‘Some,’ Benyo agreed. ‘Laying down sensors throughout a territory that big and rugged is no kiddie game. Also, for experimental purposes, occasionally some landscape has gotten modified, and this has involved heavy equipment. Aside from that, I think you must have an exaggerated notion of the activity. You’ve probably heard about cargoes that were actually meant for someplace else. An
easy mistake to make, at your remove and in a country this different from yours.’

He wagged the stem of his churchwarden pipe. ‘Look here, Commander,’ he said. ‘I know you want to go see for yourself. Okay. Let’s arrange it. Give me a few days to recruit guides.’ Anticipating the objection: ‘No, no. You can go wherever you want, and we could scarcely remove something big overnight, now could we? The guides will just be on hand to assist, advise, and keep you out of trouble. It can get a tad dangerous – snowfields, talus slopes, that kind of thing. Also, frankly, we’d like to prevent your disrupting the environment too much. I’m sure you’ll go along with that. Your Federation is a science-oriented society, like the Union.’

Okuma and his technicians found nothing suspicious across the firth. Granted, what they did find was wilderness, vast, tilted, cragged, totally alien to them. They realized how easily they could miss traces of – of what? – and under better conditions might have done a better job. However, the short subarctic summer was drawing to a close in rain, sleet, fog, lashing winds, waning daylight. And now a team farther east radioed the exciting news that it had found what seemed to be evidence of clandestine activity in the recent past, near Yakutat – possibly an attempt to develop an aircraft of more speed and range than the Union was allowed under the treaty – a project that, outgrowing its facilities, could well have moved on into the sparsely mapped Yukon region or, conceivably, by secret agreement, into the Mong nation Chukri.…

The inspectors left Kenai and did not return. Said Okuma to Benyo, bitterly, at their farewell: ‘I’ve no choice but to assume you’re honest. If any Lodge besides yours – Salmon, Beaver, Polaris, Avenger, Juniper, Chinook, any of scores –
is
carrying on something illicit, you wouldn’t know, nor would its average member. I can only beg you, if by chance information should come your way, put parochialism aside, think of the good of mankind, yes, of life on Earth, and call us.’

The reply was not unkindly: ‘I don’t envy you your job, Commander, trying to make the world stay put.’

In the next two years, rumbles and shocks had gone through the land more often than aforetime. The volcanoes grew restless, folk said. Nobody among them was a geologist. A Wolf expert addressed a town meeting on the subject. They had little to fear, he
told them, provided they were sensible. If they saw a bright flash and heard no immediate noise from the peaks across the straits, best would be that they take cover and avert their eyes.

The outburst came on a windless morning in summer. Fog had settled in overnight, so thick that people groped their way after dawn through its dripping dank grayness, themselves wraithlike in vision. Houses were shadows, wanly and blurrily puddled where lamplight shone through glass, invisible, two doors off. Mournful, muffled, from out on the water came the lowing of a buoy horn.

Then brilliance flared in the murk, lurid blue-white. It strengthened and spread, a fire, a lightning ball, a sun. Those who did not heed the warning and immediately look away would have suffered retinal burns were it not for the cloud that lay over land and sea and heaven; as was, they clapped hands to faces and afterimages danced before them for a long while. Those whose backs were turned saw an enormous ring of rainbow in the mist, like a suddenly opened portal.

A second blaze smote, but weaker because it was far higher up. Afterward the sound arrived. Even over a great distance, it crashed through ground as well as air, sent waves up into human bones to shake the heart and call forth dread that had no name.

If faded out. Vapor swirled toward quiescence. Men and women exchanged stares of astonishment – they were alive, unhurt – and hastened to soothe terrified children. An Eskimo who had coolly counted his pulse went around declaring that the volcano was about a hundred kilometers off. He opined that its brief rage had cast a gout or two of molten lava aloft, which would make an all-time splash and steam-puff when it hit the water, or a devil of a mess if it struck on land.

In a chamber across the strait, deep underground, director Eygar Dreng and his immediate staff looked wildly at a bank of instruments. ‘She’s going,’ he said. His fists knotted, his breast heaved, tears ran down his cheeks. ‘By the Seven Thunders,
how
she is going!’

On radio wings, a coded message sought three ships, hove to at far-spaced stations. Captains announced the news to their men, who cheered, capered, embraced, flung caps in air, before they buckled down-to work. Before long, they ardently hoped, one of their crews would be very busy indeed.

3

Tables cleared away and chairs placed in rows, Charles Hall became the auditorium of Skyholm – or the assembly room where the Clan Seniors met. Displayed on the walls at the appointed places, their banners transformed it, reduced the murals of historic scenes to background for a kaleidoscope of colors and devices, were arrogant with diversity, and solemn with centuried memories. Waiting on the stage, knowing how dwarfed he was by the gold-embroidered curtain of blue silk at his back, Jovain had seldom felt more solitary.

The trumpets rang, the sergeant at arms called to order, the chaplain gave an invocation, the president of the Administrative Board rendered formalities. From down on the floor, the Seniors looked at Jovain.

No matter his troopers, that audience was daunting, six hundred-odd men and women elected to represent their Clans. They sat in blocs, separated by a couple of meters. Acoustics were adequate; he made out slight rustlings and murmurs, that only emphasized silence. They were variously clad, in military uniform, in regional costume, in somberly rich town garb, but on every shoulder, a Clan patch mirrored a banner. Most were middle-aged, some old, some young
(like Iern, damn him, damn that slippery bastard, where is he?),
all alert and chary. Nearest to him were the Talences, who could speak but not vote in the choice of a Captain. He read such hostility upon several of their countenances that his glance went around among the twenty-nine groups franchised today, seeking for persons he knew would uphold him. Air gusting from a ventilator felt gelid on his skin.

Stop that!
he scolded himself.
You have a destiny to fulfill.
And when the president announced him and he advanced to the lectern, courage returned, will, confidence. True, this wasn’t what he had imagined. He had not anticipated nervousness, doubts, nagging thoughts about details he must not forget to attend to, an itch between his shoulderblades, the smell and coldness of his own sweat, a dismal memory from the night before and grit in his head because he hadn’t slept well afterward. But was anything ever quite what you had expected?

He required no written text. The lectern was for a public-address microphone, and for him to rest a hand on in an effective manner as he began:

‘Sir President, honored Seniors, Clansfolk and people of the Domain, let me first thank you sincerely and humbly for your patience. This occasion
is
unprecedented and therefore twice difficult –’

Not altogether meaningless noise. Monkeys groom each other with fingers, humans with words. Also, the preliminaries let him find his rhythm, gather his momentum, feel the beginnings of exaltation.
I
don’t think Faylis will be disappointed again tonight!

For hours to come, he must ride out a storm and quell it. Who had faced a greater challenge, since that day after Judgment when radio-active smoke blew across the world and Charles Talence rallied his crew to carry on?
Do I really feel his anim uniting with mine? No, that’s vainglorious; I never would, whatever the truth. Besides, the Gaean philosophy doesn’t encourage any such belief

though it doesn’t forbid, either.

‘– I will proceed straight to the hard, practical facts of our situation. Skyholm
is
in danger. Our entire civilization is. By swift, decisive action we have, I trust, avoided a peril I am about to describe. But larger, more enduring perils lie ahead … as do unlimited opportunities,
if
we can organize ourselves to seize them.’ A number of listeners were producing notebooks and pencils. He would hear some pointed questions later on.

‘– my profound apologies for yesterday’s intrusion. Never before has the peace, the sanctity of Skyholm been troubled. I can merely plead that a far worse, an infinitely tragic disruption might have occurred – in my considered opinion, would have occurred – had my loyal friends and I not acted. We dared not consult you beforehand. It seemed essential to bring an armed force, but that was unheard-of. A Captain could have ordered it; we had no Captain. This distinguished assembly would have felt impelled to ask for evidence, debate the matter, search for the wisest decision; and meanwhile the enemy could strike.

‘You ask who this enemy
is.
Let me summarize briefly what I have learned, deduced, and conjectured. Later I will go into more detail. The actual evidence will be made available in due course to such trustworthy persons as this Council may select.’

Now the billow crests and surges to shore!
‘We are accustomed to thinking of Espayn as a unified nation under a monolithic government. However, those of you who are versed in the subject know well that that
is
not the case. It
is
a nation recently and
forcibly hammered together.…

‘– my position on the border, my connections across it …

‘– factions…

‘– a cabal…

‘– information brought me by peace-loving individuals and organizations …

‘– It may have been exaggerated, yes. It may just have been the dream of a few, heedless and ambitious, who lack the forces to
seize
Skyholm under any circumstances. I do not know for certain. I did not know. But I dared not take the risk.

‘For tens of generations we have been complacent in our stratospheric aerie. We forgot that bold men will always find unexpected new instrumentalities. Today we are safe again – for the time being. I wish to assure that safety for the time to come.

‘Dismiss me and my men if you choose: but not, I pray you, before our new Captain has replaced us with an adequate, permanent guard for Skyholm, our heart.

‘Perhaps I should step down at this point, that you may go about your deliberations.’
No, I mean to overwhelm you.
‘Command me to do so if that is your will.’
First remember who commands the guns here.

Pause.

‘Well, then, I beg your indulgence for a while. I have said that the danger we barely avoided was – is – hardly more than a wave breaking on reefs through which we have yet to sail. I trust you will decide that the welfare of the Domain requires you hear me out.’

Courtesies; questions; arguments from the floor. Jovain’s supporters were well briefed; his sympathizers rallied around in predictable fashion.

‘Thank you, thank you. What I have to say is as manifold as the world itself, the complex, changeable, dangerous, but hopeful world from which we cannot hide away in a new Isolation Era. Our brush with disaster’ ––
we make axiomatic, without further discussion, that that’s what it was –
‘has shown that we too can go down to extinction, as whole societies have done throughout history, as every society did in the War of Judgment. But it
is
not inevitable. We have the alternative of seizing the future.…

‘– dangers arise from our own ranks also. The case of … esteemed … Talence Iern Ferlay is appalling. I had hoped to prove, before this gathering and to his face, that his militarism, his
technolatry would close off any possibility of cooperation with those elements in Espayn who would like to be our friends. Rather than a civilized debate, he chose murderous assault on innocent persons, and flight from justice. Sirs and ladies, I am not a psychiatrist. It
is
not for me to pass judgment, to diagnose. But I ask you whether the balance of peace or war should rest in such hands.…

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