Orion Shall Rise (60 page)

Plik raised his palms. ‘May I be excused?’ he laughed. ‘You waste your technicalities on my pig-ignorance.’

For her part, Ronica turned grave. ‘This means Iern, like the other pilots, damn near lives in a simulator,’ she said. ‘I’ll bet he could fly the real thing in his sleep by now. Meanwhile we engineers and computer programmers and life-support specialists and who-all else tinker away like demented beavers, and, Yasu, do we get a
tongue-lashing when he finds out we’ve made the rig still worse!’

Iern grew able to smile, in pride. ‘It’s frightening to spin out of control, even if it’s only pretense,’ he said, ‘but you beavers have become marvelous at gnawing. We’re practically ready.’

Plik started. ‘Do you mean the ship will fly soon?’

‘Very soon. As I told you, we’re not installing any actual military equipment, only the experimental apparatus that should
give
us an idea of how to install it in the rest that are under construction. Work on
Two
herself has dwindled down to whatever afterthoughts the scientists are having. What may delay us
is
weather. Not a storm;
Orion
should be able to thunder her way through any wind. But we want the region thoroughly socked in. It wouldn’t do for the Maurai to identify the precise site. That could make their bombing effective.’

‘Pilot, copilot, three engineers, a computerman, their standbys, plus the data-collection team, eh? Do you expect you’ll be among them?’

Iern sighed like a boy in love. ‘I can hope.’

A knock on the door interrupted. For privacy’s sake, the panels were too thick to pass a called invitation. Ronica padded the short distance and opened up. Light from room and hall spilled across Wairoa.

He waited for no word, but stepped directly through, closed and latched the door behind him, and halted motionless. They saw him clad in the coveralls usual here, though his feet were bare. The masked, disharmonic face looked the more strange above drab cloth and judas collar. Beneath an arm he carried a large book.

‘Well!’ Ronica said. ‘Howdy. Been quite a spell. Sit yourself and tipple.’

Plik glowered. His companions had never before heard such hostility from him: ‘What harm do you intend?’

‘Hold, fellow,’ said Iern, shocked. ‘Never mind politics. Wairoa’s our trail-friend.’

‘He’s the friend of Mikli Karst,’ the Angleyman rasped. ‘Haven’t you noticed? They’re together every time Karst
is
in these caves.’

‘Well, m-m, Mikli did
give
us a rude incident –’

Plik grinned acidly. ‘That could be taken as all in the day’s dirty work. But he’s evil, fundamentally evil. Can’t you sense it?’

‘Stop,’ Ronica ordered. ‘This is my home, and Iern’s. Have a seat, Wairoa, and if Plik won’t give you anything out of his bottle,
we have one in a drawer.’ She took a fresh glass off the bureau and waved the Maurai toward the table.

He did not step forward immediately. ‘I have something to show you, Iern,’ he said low. ‘But if the authorities learn about what we know, we could be dead. Maybe Ronica and Plik should go elsewhere.’

The woman stared at him, strode to her man, and stood by his side. ‘No, thanks,’ she answered.

Plik stroked his chin. ‘Conceivably I’ve misjudged you, Wairoa,’ he said. ‘I’m curious. I’m also careful of my neck, therefore discreet. Please let me listen.’

Wairoa nodded, advanced, and took the fourth chair. Iern poured for him, but he ignored it. Ronica lowered herself and poised catlike. Iern shivered the least bit, while sweat broke out on his skin. Plik sat back and drank.

‘I must be quick,’ Wairoa said. Nevertheless, his tone remained level, the Angley softly accented. ‘Yes, I have cultivated Mikli Karst. It was easier to do than he would like to know. He has a jackdaw mind for facts, and of course he hoped for data useful against my side. But mainly, he is a very lonely man. Solipsists are.’

Plik registered surprise at the phrase.

‘I have found his company interesting,’ Wairoa continued. ‘It has lightened captivity and idleness for me. However, my principal motive has been ulterior. I meant to spy.’

‘What?’ Iern exclaimed. ‘How? What for? You could never get any information out to your people.’

Wairoa caught his gaze. ‘I could get it to you,’ he replied.

After a silence: ‘I had my strong suspicions from the beginning, an idea of precisely what to look for. Her Majesty’s Naval Intelligence has collected clues over the years, and especially during the last mission to Uropa. I believe Terai sought to tell you, but you rebuffed him, being by then dedicated to Ronica’s cause.’

‘Terai,’ Plik whispered. ‘Do you suppose
he
brought the Maurai down on Orion?’

Nobody responded. It was a question which had been asked many a time since the ultimatum was delivered. Wairoa proceeded, relentless: ‘While here, I convinced myself totally, but that was by means you would even more refuse to accept, Iern – body language, overtones, subvocalizations, a logic which
is less
inductive or deductive than intuitive. What I needed was tangible evidence.’

He laid the book on the table with a
smack
at which Iern and Plik started, Ronica flared her nostrils. The cat woke, yawned, stretched, jumped to the floor and thence to her mistress’ lap. Ronica patted her absentmindedly. She purred. The sound made a curious obbligato to Wairoa’s voice.

‘Early on, I learned the lock combination of his office vault. He had me turn my back, but hyperacute hearing can follow swiveling dial and clicking tumblers. I confirmed my result by dropping numbers casually into remarks to his subordinates over the days, and paying close heed to their expressions. Meanwhile I obtained Mikli’s permission to borrow books. Since I must report regularly to the officer on duty in the anteroom, it was natural that I go in and browse when he was not there. After the first few such visits, nobody kept me under surveillance. He never leaves important material lying loose, nor did I seem in any position to spy or sabotage. Rather, he wanted me to share his collection. I took care to
give
him commentary that he found amusing, upon the more outrageous parts of it.’

‘And at last you saw your chance to ransack the vault, when the officer went to the can or something,’ Ronica said hoarsely. ‘What’ve you found?’

Wairoa’s tiger-striped head wove to and fro. ‘My procedure was different. In these hermetic surroundings, security is lax because everyone assumes it can safely be. I entered the vault for several brief periods, reconnoitering, until I had identified what I sought. Tonight I lifted it.’ He gestured at the book. They observed the title:
Pain: Concepts and Techniques Around the World
. ‘This
is
my portfolio.’

Iern half reached for the volume. ‘What did you take, in Zhesu’s name?’ he asked.

‘Correspondence, memoranda, excerpts from reports – proof,’ Wairoa said, like a hammer striking iron. ‘It was never Yuan that supported Jovain and made his coup possible. Certain high Yuanese officers were involved, yes. They provided a conduit for messages and matériel. When the emergency of our capture by the Krasnayans occurred, they arranged for our transfer to Northwestern agents. But essentially, Iern, your secret enemy has been … the Wolf Lodge, the builders of Orion.’

The blood fled Ronica’s countenance. ‘No, you’re crazy!’ she yelled. ‘What earthly use to us – a Gaean regime, just when our
trade with the Domain was getting well started – no!’

Wairoa maintained his erosive steadiness: ‘Mikli gave me the same argument. I lulled him by not disputing further. But the facts are otherwise.

‘The Yuanese in the cabal merely provided assistance and a front. They were ignorant of Orion, of course, but took for granted that certain Lodges in the Northwest Union were plotting to throw off the Maurai yoke. From their viewpoint, they were helping promulgate Gaeanity in Uropa, gaining Norrman allies on the far side of the rival Mong realm Bolshareka, and making a personal profit. Oh, yes, Mikli and his gang meshed them in a spider’s web, piece by piece. They became exceedingly vulnerable to blackmail. And some were Norries from the first, infiltrators passing for Mong and working their ways into key positions.

The impetus against Skyholm always came from
here
.’

‘But why, why?’ Iern stammered.

‘It would be to the benefit of the entire Union to abort an incipient close relationship between Domain and Federation,’ Wairoa said. ‘Why grant the Maurai a foothold in Uropa, profitable commerce, technological exchanges? Rather, get these for oneself, for the Northwesterners – as well as unhindered, unquestioned access to eastern Uropa, where fissionables are. Moreover, trouble in the Domain would distract the attention of the Maurai while Orion neared completion.’

‘But Gaeans are gut-set against our whole ph-ph-philosophy.’ Tears stood in Ronica’s eyes. ‘No such arrangement could last.’

‘Mikli and his associates were only interested in the short term. Once Orion was up, it would make little difference who reigned in any country.’ Wairoa opened the book. It had concealed a sheaf of papers. ‘Consistency has no relevance to politics, nor do loyalty or morality. Jovain must be horrified by the news of your undertaking, and ready to support my nation against you. The Federation in turn will accept whatever help it can get in this war. Ultimately, though, it would be glad to assist a more congenial party into power in Skyholm.

‘I think you are entitled to know who your enemies are, Iern.’

‘Let me see that!’ The Clansman grabbed at the file. Ronica’s chair tumbled and her cat sprang off, indignant, as she hastened to look over his shoulder.

Plik leaned close to Wairoa. ‘Why did you do this?’ he whispered. ‘What did you hope to accomplish?’

‘Perhaps nothing,’ the Maurai conceded. ‘But I must needs try.’

‘Oh, you did enough. You played your role.’ Plik hoisted his glass. What he had drunk did not account for the unsteadiness of his hand. ‘You opened the gates of the hell through which he must pass.’

‘Must?’ Wairoa asked.

Plik did not reply. Wairoa sipped sparingly and observed the readers.

At last Iern shoved the papers aside, raised his head, and pushed from his throat: ‘You appear to be right. What next?’

Wairoa collected his evidence, tucked it away again, and stood up. ‘For my part,’ he said, ‘I shall report as usual, prior to my curfew. I had better take the opportunity to return these documents, under guise of looking for another book to borrow. You know where to find me if you wish. Goodnight.’

He went out. Iern twisted around in his seat, toward Ronica. She stooped and received his face in her bosom. ‘Oh, darling, darling,’ he mumbled.

She ruffled his hair. ‘It’s bad, beloved, and I’m ashamed,’ she told him. ‘But things like this happen. We’ll make it right, I swear we will. Hang in there.’ A chant: ‘First the stars, your flight beyond the sky, a way outward for our children and their children, forever –’

Plik departed, mute. He left the bottle. They might need it worse than he would.

In the morning, Iern went to the nearest telephone, called his team chief, and reported himself and Ronica sick. It was not really a lie. After the night they had had, they would be of less than no use on the job.

They dressed warmly and set out for the surface. ‘Looks like this clear spell is going to last a while,’ the guard at the head of the ramp warned. ‘The kanakas might come over.’

‘I heard they’d pretty well given that up,’ Ronica said. ‘Waste of good bombs.’

‘Yah, but you never know about those bastards. If they just fly a reconnaissance, the pilot might still take a fancy to a little machine-gun practice on a couple of Norries.’

‘No.
They
aren’t monsters!’ Iern snapped. His vehemence took the guard aback.

Besides camouflage, a stand of spruce concealed this door. Sunlight struck between towering clouds to glow on murky-green boughs and ruddy trunks. The air was cold in their shadows but held a faint sweetness that was theirs too. Beyond, the mountainside swept away toward neighbor peaks and steep-sided valleys. The snow on the ground was old, surviving in streaks and patches, wan of hue. Boulders and crags jutted above it and what winter-gray turf lay exposed. A flock of Dall sheep wandered in the distance, led by a splendidly crowned buck. Breezes whittered.

Here two persons might find peace.

Iern set out on an upward-slanting course. Ronica took note of landmarks before she joined him. Weather was not ordinarily severe in this country, thanks to the warm Kamchatka Current, but it was treacherous; rain, snow, or fog could close down the horizon without warning.

They strode for a while in silence, until she asked, ‘Do you
want to talk about it now?’

Sleeplessness hoarsened Iern. ‘Didn’t we thresh things out till close to dawn?’

Her head shook within the hood of her parka. ‘Not really. We talked the obvious to death. And you –’ she squeezed his arm – ‘you told me a worldful about Skyholm and the Domain and your life, trying to explain to me what it has meant to you. Trying to explain to yourself as well, I think.’

‘I said I would continue in Orion.’

‘Well, you haven’t much choice, have you? I want you to continue willingly. As
is,
if you quit, it wouldn’t stop anything, with the ship all set to go. Nor would it let you out of here. You’d just make people wonder what ailed you, and that might lead them to Wairoa. We agreed his poor little attempt at sabotage doesn’t deserve the punishment Mikli would doubtless lay on him.’

‘Mikli!’ Iern spat.

‘That’s what I’m hoping to set you free of today, dearest,’ Ronica said. ‘It’s no good, you feeling like a prisoner. That would poison everything – yes, between you and me also.’

‘I intend to kill Mikli Karst.’

Ronica’s smile was a grim one. ‘An excellent idea in principle. In practice, not smart. You couldn’t get away with it here, and they’d probably put you to death, because, damn it, he
is
invaluable. I happen to know that the shore batteries that stopped the Maurai at Cook Inlet, and the stockpiling of war stuff and the scheme for irregulars to come north that saved our bacon on this peninsula – those were his ideas, and in large part his doing. The secret could never have been preserved this long without him, his tireless tightrope dance. I suspect he’s got more surprises up his sleeve.’