The Parafaith War (39 page)

The doctor entered the office adjoining the one where the interview was taking place and closed the door behind her.

Lieutenant Rifori left within ten minutes, a puzzled look on his face, until he saw Trystin, and his face hardened again before he turned and rapped on the staff office door.

After Rifori left. Dr. Kynkara ushered Trystin into her office.

The alien wore the same uniform/clothing as every Farhkan Trystin had met. Were they all the same? And would he be talking with Rhule Ghere once again or would it be Jhule? How many Farhkans were involved? Was the agenda going to be theft once more?

Trystin inhaled slowly, taking in the vaguely familiar odor, the mixed scents of an unfamiliar flower, a muskiness, and cleanliness.

“Major, this is Rhule Ghere. He is a senior … physician … in the Farhkan … hegemony.”

“I’ve met Dr. Ghere.” Vaguely surprised that his voice was so calm, Trystin nodded to Ghere.

The not-quite-human figure wore the same shimmering gray fatigues. The red eyes still peered out from the iron-gray hair and square face, and the wide single-nostril nose flapped with each breath above the protruding crystalline teeth. “Greetings, Major Desoll.”

Again, as they had before, the words scripted through his mind, but Trystin knew somehow that the use of the implant was a fiction, a convenient one for the Farhkans.

“Let me know when you’re done,” requested the doctor as she left.

“I will.” Trystin waited until the door closed and the Farhkan’s comm bloc dropped over the room. He settled into the plastic chair opposite Ghere.

“What do you feel about theft these days?” asked the Farhkan.

“I still don’t like it. How do you feel about lying? Or is misrepresentation on the nonverbal level not lying?”

Ghere snorted, and Trystin wasn’t sure the sound was a laugh.

“You are bright enough to get into trouble. Major.” “You make that sound like a threat. Doctor.” Trystin added the next words on a subvocal level through the implant. “Do your mental abilities include the induction of heart attacks or cerebral ‘accidents’?”

“I did not mean my words as a threat.” Ghere seemed unruffled. “You have thought, as I hoped you might, but you have not thought deeply enough.” “How about answering the question?” “That is a fair request. Yes, we can talk mind-to-mind, but not to everyone of your species. The implant is symptomatic of ability. That is, it is difficult to convey more than simple thoughts to those who do not have the ability to mentally organize thoughts before speaking them. Thus …”

Trystin nodded. Ghere’s thoughts/words made sense, but whether they were fully accurate was another question.

“… and we cannot physically affect another entity directly by mental means …”

Directly? That bothered Trystin, although he couldn’t immediately Figure out an indirect means. “How about indirectly?”

“No more than you can with spoken words.” A silent laugh followed. “Now, you might do me the honor of responding to my request about your feelings on theft.”

“Theft isn’t simple. It sounds simple, but it’s not. If I waste people’s time with endless chatter, am I stealing their time? How do I know? I’d have to guess whether they wanted to talk or they didn’t. If I steal food to live, it is theft, but is it so immoral if those I steal from have plenty?” “You still do not wish to admit you are a thief?” Trystin shrugged. “You want a simple answer to a question that isn’t simple.”

“Is not a failure to answer a question a form of lying?” Trystin felt what he thought had to be amusement, and he answered. “Not if you don’t know the answer. Perhaps I should tell you that I don’t know if I am a thief.” “You steal, or you do not.”

“When you can give me a definition of theft, then I’ll think about answering the question.”

“That is not the objective. In your own terms, are you a thief?”

Trystin paused. “The simple answer is no.” “You should think about whether it is the correct answer.” After a mental silence, Ghere added, “Is there a correct answer? Is your correct answer good for another being?”

“Probably not, but I also don’t want to live in a society where people are free to steal everything under the sun.”

“So some theft is acceptable? You do not believe all theft is unacceptable?”

Trystin’s forehead felt damp. The questions were simple enough, but a lot more was going on than trying to answer questions. A lot more, and he could feel the anger building inside him. Everywhere he looked, something was hidden, as if everyone-except his father-had something to gain by concealment. And everyone was judging.

“Is some lying acceptable?” asked Ghere, interrupting Trystin’s thoughts.

“That depends on what you mean by lying. And by acceptable.”

“It is strange. You humans pride yourself on beliefs and values that you claim are absolute, and then you refuse to accept the judgments you have created by those values.” “That gives you the right to judge us?” snapped Trystin. “I have not ever made such a claim. I have asked you to judge yourself, and you have refused.”

“And if I had? If I had said I were a thief… then what?” The snort that seemed like laughter followed. “Then I would have asked you how you could be a thief when you pay for what you use.”

“Then why did you bother? You weren’t going to accept any answer I gave.” Trystin could feel the anger building, anger fueled as much by the cold reception in the med center as by the Farhkan game-playing.

“Because understanding what cannot be answered or resolved is the beginning of wisdom.”

“Why do you care about our wisdom? What is your agenda? Why do you subject me … and presumably others … to unanswerable questions?”

“We do live in the same galaxy, and your species is somewhat … aggressive.”

“And you’re not? You haven’t destroyed human ships? Don’t make me laugh.”

“I would not try that.” Ghere paused. “We only destroyed those ships that attempted to attack us, to commit theft, if you will.”

“You don’t like theft. You’ve made that clear. So why do you bother with us poor peons of the galaxy? Why not just wipe us out? Get rid of the local vermin?”

“That poses a difficulty. Several.” Again, the Farhkan paused. “Such an attempt would not be wise.”

“You couldn’t do it, is that it? So you’d rather figure out how we work enough to destroy us from within?”

The Farhkan laugh followed. “If we must … we will … accomplish such destruction… but it would be futile. A fool’s victory, and the price would be as high for us as for you-as you may see someday.”

Trystin sat in the chair. The cold certainty behind Ghere’s words chilled his anger. Yet how could destroying humanity also destroy the Farhkans? Ghere offered nothing.

“All right. I’ll bite. You’ve got the technology to destroy us, but it’s so terrible that you’ll destroy a chunk of the galaxy too, and you with it?”

“No. ” This time the laugh was bitter. “The galaxy would appear almost unchanged. I choose not to answer that question. That answer you must find.”

“Me? You have all the answers. You can say you won’t answer, and leave me hanging. I’m just a poor pawn in a game I don’t understand.”

“Hardly a pawn. Major. And you will understand the game, as you put it. You will … if you value your heritage and race.”

Trystin swallowed, biting back the anger. The Farhkan waited a moment, then added, “I would like you to memorize something for future reference. You may find it useful.”

“Wait a minute!” Trystin protested. “Useful? Just like that? You threaten me and all humanity, and then you just tell me to memorize something. And what about theft? Or lying? Was that all a subterfuge?” He didn’t like the way the Farhkan brought up things and just stopped. Or the incredible threat he’d delivered. Just forget it? How could he?

“All of it is woven together. You-or another human-must discover the pattern and act.” “What if I won’t play this game?” Trystin received the impression of a shrug. “You need to decide. I am not placing judgments upon you. I am not threatening you. It may seem that way. It is not so. I do not lie. But I am a thief, as you may discover. I am not proud of that. “Ghere snorted again.

Trystin wanted to hold his head, which had begun to ache. Instead, he just sat there, seething.

“Listen,” commanded Ghere. “The key to the temple is… .” What followed the words was a series of equations that scripted into Trystin’s mind. “Why?” Trystin asked.

“Please…” requested the Farhkan with a mental forcefulness that was more command than request, yet a forcefulness concealing something else.

“You’ll have to repeat those,” Trystin mumbled. His head throbbed. It took four repetitions before he was certain that he had the phrases in mind, and he had to key them into his implant memory. “Why do you want me to memorize these?” “You may find them useful. At least one of you may. It may be you.” “One of us?”

“Yes. One of you. If it is not you, consider yourself fortunate. If it is … you are better prepared than most, but you will pay an even higher price. These keys were … difficult … to obtain.” The Farhkan stood.

“Wait a minute!” Trystin stood as his voice climbed. “In all these interviews, you prod me, and you probe. You threaten all humans, and you make me uncomfortable, and then you just drop things. What’s the purpose?”

“I do not threaten. I state what is. Major. The goal is to give you-and all those we interview-a way of looking at life that may allow your species to survive. I am not your enemy. I am your patron. Remember that I am your patron.”

“That still sounds like a threat.” “We do not make threats. Major. Threats do not work, and they are bad policy. We offer help. You can take it or not take it.” “Why me?”

“Because those members of your species with great power and position are more interested in personal power than species survival.” “Great. Why are you bothering to tell me?” “Who would you tell? Also”-Trystin gained a sense of something like sadness-“you could learn enough, if you are unfortunate enough.” Ghere stood and turned. “Good day. Major.” “Good day. Doctor.”

Trystin felt like grabbing the Farhkan and shaking him, but did not. He could not, because the Farhkan suddenly walked out the rear door.

Even through his headache, Trystin could feel a sense of sadness radiating from the alien. Sadness? Why?

When no answers immediately struck him, not that he thought they would, he opened the front door and went for Dr. Kynkara. His head still throbbed, and he wanted to kick people, or throw them down stairs. Or something!

“How was the physical?” asked Elsin as Trystin walked into the kitchen.

“The physical was fine, but the interview with the Farhkan …” Trystin slipped off the beret and tucked it into his belt. “Shit …”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Elsin paused. “Something to drink?” “Do you have any juice?” “Just mixed vegetable and sour apple.” Trystin shivered. “Any iced tea?” “That’s what I’m having.” “Make that two.”

Elsin poured a second tumbler and handed it to Trystin. “The mint’s in the holder there.”

Trystin crushed a sprig into the tea and settled into the second chair at the kitchen table. The whirr of wings drifted through the open window, and he watched as a male heliobird hovered for a moment above the hedge. “They’re beautiful.” Elsin nodded, waiting.

Trystin watched until the heliobird whirred toward the pines and out of sight. “There was this Farhkan. He’s interviewed me several times, and he seems to be more interested in my ethics than anything else. He’s always pressing me to admit I’m a thief.” “Aren’t we all?” Elsin lifted his tumbler. “I suppose so. He said he was, and that he found it hard to accept. I’ve kept refusing to admit it in blanket terms. That bothers me. Finally, I asked him what he would have done if I’d admitted it. ” Trystin took a swallow of the cold tea before continuing. “You know what he said? He said that he would have questioned whether I really was a thief. Then he ended up with something about humans insisting on absolutes when we refused to apply those absolute values to ourselves.” “That’s certainly true enough.” “But why does any of this matter to a Farhkan?” “Maybe they’ve never had experience with hypocrisy on such a vast scale. “Elsin laughed.’

“I don’t think that’s it.” Trystin took another deep swallow of the tea. “He’s been hammering on me to declare an absolute, but then he’d hammer on me not to.”

“We like to make things absolute, but that doesn’t mean they are,” observed Elsin.

“But why would an alien care? He said-not in so many words-that they’d have to destroy humanity, and that would destroy them, but that I’d have to find out why. And he said that the Coalition’s senior officers were too corrupt, or too in love with personal power, to learn what junior officers could. And, then, at the end, he said that I might learn enough if I were unfortunate. Not fortunate-unfortunate. What in hell would a frigging alien care?”

“We do live in the same galaxy. Perhaps they’re worried about what we might do to the neighborhood.”

“That’s what he said, but it seems to me they should worry more about the revs.” Trystin cupped his hands around the glass for a moment. “And he kept saying that he wasn’t making threats.”

“Maybe he wasn’t,” Elsin said. “If you know something will happen, and you say so . - . is that a threat?”

Trystin shivered and rubbed his forehead. “But he never said anything about the revs. They’re more of a threat than we are. Aren’t they concerned? It doesn’t make sense. Don’t they care?”

“They probably do, but why would they tell you?” “That’s true.” Trystin took another swallow of tea. “But what about being unfortunate? That’s like a curse.”

“Wisdom is a curse, Trystin, and it’s usually bought” with pain and suffering. Your alien seems rather perceptive.”

“Maybe … but figure this That wasn’t all.” Trystin forced a laugh. “He’s basically told me that his people might have to destroy us-and implied that it wouldn’t be any problem at all technically-that it wouldn’t change the universe in the slightest-and then he asks me to memorize a bunch of stuff. Figure that “Oh? I can’t say I like where they’re pointing you.” “Me, neither,” Trystin said, taking a deep swallow of the cold tea. “What were you supposed to memorize?” “He told me that the key to the temple was a series of equations, and he insisted that I memorize them.”