Watchers of the Dark (21 page)

“I know. But some of them are saying that you surrendered to the Dark. Did you get what you were after?”

Darzek shook his head. “I wanted to find out whether the natives really were an unreasoning mob, or whether they had intelligent direction that was able to adapt to unexpected circumstances. I still don’t know. Turning the power back on and using the transmitters was the work of a crafty mind, but the natives could have thought of it themselves. So I don’t know. I muffed it, and now I won’t be able to find out until the next time.”

“Next time? The next time the Dark moves?”

Darzek nodded. “When it tries to take Primores. And by then I may be too late.”

“We were hasty,” Meszk admitted. “In our distress over the outcome, we did not properly evaluate your accomplishment. You showed us that the Dark can be resisted. With greater numbers, and with more time to prepare, we might have won. And if the Dark can be defeated on Yorlq, it can be defeated anywhere.”

“Primores is not ‘anywhere,’” Gul Ceyh said. “It is the home of Supreme. The Dark must not take Primores.”

“We have ample time to work and plan before the Dark moves again,” Meszk said. “Will you not supervise that planning, Gul Darr?”

“Regretfully—no. As soon as I can liquidate the affairs of the Trans-Star Trading Company, Gula Schlu and I are going home—or to some remote world that we can call home. I did what I could on Yorlq, and I failed. Others may do better. I hope so. I wish them well, and I think them more likely to succeed without my counsel.”

“If you are firm in that belief, then of course there is nothing more to be said,” Meszk said resignedly. “If your thinking changes, we will welcome your assistance. Do you plan to leave soon?”

“Not immediately. There is still much work to be done.” He turned to Brokefa. “Would the
efa
care to purchase a spaceship?”

Brokefa wheezed in amusement. “No. The
efa
have no need for one.”

“Nor does anyone else,” Darzek said gloomily. “The Dark’s last move has so restricted trade that there is a surplus of spaceships. I haven’t received a single bid for mine.”

He took his formal leave of them.

“Come and see me before you go,” Gul Ceyh called.

“Of course,” Darzek said. “I hope to see all of you. And if I find my refuge, all of you will be welcome there.”

He joined Miss Schlupe in a public park, where she stood looking through the transparent dome at the looming profile of the city.

“I hate parks without benches,” she announced.

“The parks are walking places. People can sit down at home.”

“I also miss the birds. A park without benches and birds is like beer without alcohol. Are you sure you aren’t making a mistake? They have substantial resources, and they’ll probably have help from other wealthy traders. If they had someone to tell them what to do, they might even accomplish something.”

Darzek shook his head. “I had a private talk with Gul Isc before the others arrived. He thinks I performed brilliantly on Yorlq, and he gave me the inside story of this little meeting. Gul Meszk bought a plantation on Primores II and converted it into a military training base. He sought help from every trader he could contact, recruited a force of some five hundred, and started training it. Rhinzl was his second in command, and of course the others meddled in whenever they saw fit. In this short time they’ve gotten their troops into such a muddle that they may never be able to straighten them out. They’re bewildered, because it all looked so easy when I was doing it on Yorlq.”

“Then what they really want you to do is straighten out the mess.”

Darzek nodded. “Train an army for them, get it ready to fight—and then turn it over to them, or use it under their orders.”

“You still might be able to make use of them.”

“It’s the wrong approach. The riots are only symptoms. The problem isn’t to resist them, but to find out what causes them. We can only do that by studying the natives. On Yorlq we didn’t even bother to learn their language. I don’t intend to make that mistake twice.”

“I don’t see what you expect to accomplish by going native. You can’t alter the fact that you’re a foreigner.”

“I can’t
be
a native,” Darzek said slowly, “but perhaps I can learn to think like one.”

“The traders will find out that you haven’t retired. You can’t trade with thousands of worlds without anyone knowing about it.”

“I think I can.”

“All of them helped on Yorlq. Don’t you trust any of them?”

“No, but they can still be useful to me. They helped me today. Gul Halvr told me that E-Wusk is here, and that’s the most intriguing thing that’s happened since Smith unloaded the million dollars on us.”

The old trader seemed to have shriveled since Darzek saw him last. He had lost weight, and his leathery flesh was puckered with deep wrinkles. He greeted Darzek congenially enough, but the note of exuberance was gone from his laughter.

“Gul Halvr told me about your fight with the Dark,” he said.

“It wasn’t much of a fight.”

“Any fight with the Dark has but one ending.”

“So it would seem. I was surprised to learn that you were here.”

“I thought to ask Supreme to suggest a place of refuge, but there are so many who wish to consult Supreme—so many who have fled the Dark.” E-Wusk sighed. “One must wait one’s turn, and I fear to wait much longer. Would it surprise you if I said the Dark came here before me?”

“The Dark? Here on Primores? I don’t believe it!”

“I, E-Wusk, have seen its work.”

“I, Darr, have not,” Darzek said boldly. “Therefore I cannot accept what you say.”

E-Wusk’s enormous face assumed an expression of hurt astonishment. “You cannot accept what E-Wusk tells you? Come. You shall see for yourself.”

Darzek followed him to one of the city’s many beautiful parks. They walked through it slowly, and paused for E-Wusk to stare searchingly at each native they met. “Not here,” he announced finally. They moved on to another park. And another.

He found what he was looking for. “There!” he whispered.

A small group of Primorians had gathered at an intersection of paths. One, speaking stridently and with jerky gesticulations, seemed to be lecturing to the others, who stood grouped together a short distance away from him and did not seem to be listening.

“There!” E-Wusk whispered again.

They stopped to watch. The audience, if it was one, soon began to edge away, and the speaker broke off and stood looking after it disgustedly. He marched to the other side of the park and began to address another group of natives, which broke up almost immediately.

Puzzled, Darzek demanded, “This is the Dark at work?”

“It is,” E-Wusk said.

Darzek scratched his head fretfully. “What did he say?”

“I can not tell you precisely, for I do not understand the language. I know the sort of things he is saying. ‘The foreign traders are greedily drinking the lifeblood of our solvency. They take their huge profits and live in their lavish homes and drain the wealth from our world while leaving us only enough to subsist. Let’s rid ourselves of foreigners, and keep the wealth that rightfully belongs to us for ourselves.’ He, and many like him, are saying this all over Primores. This and much more. They say vile things. The natives don’t want to listen, but soon they will listen in spite of themselves, and then they will become angry. Finally the madness will come. The Dark’s madness.”

“This happened on the other worlds?”

“On all of them. When the speeches begin, the Dark is never far behind.”

“I see. Are there other signs?”

“Many. As the Dark approaches, the world’s pattern of trade changes. The people eat more and consume fewer luxuries. Soon they stop buying clothing and ornaments. Those with occupations neglect them. They are afflicted with strange sicknesses. Some remain in their homes and brood, but more gather in the parks where always there is a speaker to talk against the foreigners. By watching places of public assembly, and by studying trade records, medical reports, patronage of the transportation systems, and many such things it is possible to predict within a quarter-term when the Dark will strike.”

“Are you making such a study of Primores?”

“I? I have no intention of remaining here that long.”

“Could you teach me how to do it?”

“There is no time. Surely I will be able to consult Supreme very soon, and then I shall leave. Immediately.”

They separated at the transmitting exchange, Darzek to look for a young native he had hired, named
urs
Dwad. He took him on a tour of the parks, and when they found another speaker haranguing a small group of natives, Darzek ordered, “Translate!”

urs
Dwad listened with signs of incredulity. “He says the foreign traders devour the wealth of our world and leave us the dregs. He says we should force them to leave and destroy the symbols of their greed.”

“Ask him what foreigner has paid him tainted solvency to make such statements,” Darzek suggested.
urs
Dwad did so; the haranguer glared in speechless fury and then flounced away.

“Touché!” Darzek murmured. “A shot in the dark—at the Dark.”

He should have discovered this on Yorlq. He should have investigated E-Wusk’s prognostications there, though by the time he found out about them it was already too late.

Perhaps it was too late on Primores.

He told Miss Schlupe about it, and she exclaimed, “Great! It’s a dratted Communist conspiracy.”

“Nonsense. An out-and-out Communist couldn’t get to first base around here. No one is underprivileged, and anyone can become a capitalist who wants to work at it. All this means is that someone has discovered how effective rabble-rousing can be, and the custom of leaving one’s home planet to go into business makes all the traders foreigners and an obvious target.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Just as fast as possible I’m going to train a staff of private detectives. I want to find out where these characters go when they climb down off their soapboxes, and whom they talk to. Especially whom they are taking orders from. There must be a tremendous organization behind this, to bring off riots on so many worlds almost simultaneously, and the thing is self-perpetuating. Foreign agents work through susceptible natives to arouse the populace against foreigners. Then they’re evicted along with the innocent foreigners to start over again on a world the Dark hasn’t touched. Schluppy, this comes as a terrible letdown. The Dark’s mysterious mental weapon is the rabble-rouser!”

“The people can’t be that stupid. Maybe the rabble-rouser uses a mental weapon to make them believe him.”

Darzek winced.

“You’re going to train a staff—of
natives?”

“They’ll have to be natives.”

“They’ll turn against you in the end, just as they did on Yorlq.”

“The idea is to see that there won’t be any end. I’m putting you in charge of this. What with my trading operations, and keeping tabs on the traders, and trying to figure out E-Wusk’s statistical analysis, I won’t have time for it.”

“Won’t E-Wusk help you?”

“No. He’s leaving as soon as he can. He’s changed so much that you’d hardly know him. They’ve all changed. Now E-Wusk is wearing his fear, and the others aren’t. I wish I had time to investigate that.” He gestured absently. “E-Wusk reminded me of something else I should have done the moment I arrived here, only I didn’t know it was possible. So today I registered a request to consult Supreme.”

Darzek had established ten of his undertraders on the outer planets. Ensconced in obscure, unmarked offices, these novices in interstellar trade had as much solvency at their disposal as the largest trading companies. Already they were operating fleets of spaceships and providing essential supplies for worlds the Dark had isolated. Starving worlds, such as Quarm, were fed and encouraged to dispose of their dead and get to work supporting themselves. Most worlds had recovered their sanity before their food stocks were exhausted, but all had critical shortages, usually of metals and fuels. These Darzek’s trading team obtained for them, whenever possible from other Dark worlds.

Gud Baxak moved energetically from office to office and journeyed far into the realm of the Dark, supervising, coordinating, displaying a high genius for trading organization. He had an ecstatic vision of an absolute trading monopoly of thousands of worlds, and he was extracting a pledge from every world he supplied to ensure that no ships except Darzek’s could handle a fractured solvency of its trade. Darzek approved of such Machiavellian tactics. He could always open the territory to other traders later; his immediate concern was to prevent the return of agents of the Dark.