Worlds in Chaos (89 page)

They flew low over white salt wastes and reedy marshes where flamingos rose in sunlit flurries of orange and magenta reflecting from the pools like fireworks displays. Ahead, the land became more hilly, rising toward mountains with the snow line of the Cordillera Real visible distantly behind. A valley opened out to reveal a huddled township set astride a meandering creek and giving way at the outskirts to patches of green cultivation crisscrossed by trails. The flyer dipped to pass over red-roofed, Spanish-style houses looking aged and dusty, and singled out one of several residences standing apart among clumps of yucca bush and a scattering of trees along the creek bank on the far side. It was built of adobe with a tile roof, and enclosed by a slatted fence running down to the creek on two sides. Outside the fence, a ramshackle assortment of maybe a dozen cars, trucks, and other vehicles was drawn up haphazardly along the roadside among the boulders and trees. Brown-skinned figures sitting in the open doors or under leanto shelters of blankets or plastic sheeting poles looked up curiously as the flyer descended. It landed inside the enclosure, alongside several automobiles, a newish-looking pickup truck, and a couple of Hyadean personal-model flyers. There was also a larger, more impressive model of flyer, sleek and businesslike, consisting of a dark blue body riding on two yellow nacelles. The Hyadean equivalent of a Learjet, Cade decided. Two men with the high-cheeked, long-nosed features of Andean Indians, neatly groomed and wearing loose white shirts with black pants, but tough-looking nevertheless and carrying sidearms, had already appeared from the house and were standing in front of the door when the arrivals got out.

Before anyone had moved a pace, a rotund figure, chunky-looking even for a Hyadean, swept out of the doorway, arms extended as if greeting long-lost friends. In all Cade’s time of dealing with them, this was the most incongruous Cade had seen. His skin hue was dark, varying from blue to purple at the nose and cheeks, and what could be seen of his hair was crimson, protruding at the sides below a native-style, wide-brimmed derby. Along with the hat he wore a poncho embroidered with brightly colored designs, and voluminous trousers tucked into calf-length boots. He recognized Vrel and Thryase, doubtless from video exchanges, and greeted them exuberantly in Hyadean, gripping each in turn in the customary Hyadean fashion, Roman style, hands gripping the other’s wrist. Then he switched to Terran handshakes. “You must be Dr. Armley, whom we’ve heard about. . . . And you are Professor Wintner. . . .”

“This is Corto Tevlak,” Vrel managed to squeeze in.

Tevlak waved at the surroundings. “We don’t have much in the way of campus life here. But welcome anyway. There are three more waiting inside to meet you.” He turned to usher the party back toward the doorway, at the same time speaking in short, simple, but well-formed sentences. “And how are you shaping up this morning? Flew in last night. The altitude sometimes affects Terrans. We don’t seem so bothered by it.”

“Last night was a bit rough,” Cade said. “We’re okay now.”

“Splendid.”

They passed on into the house. In the hallway, Tevlak took off his derby and jammed it on top of one of several gaudily painted Indian devil masks glaring down from the wall above a carved rack bearing coats and cloaks. The interior admitted little sun but was well lit artificially. It was virtually a gallery of art, dress, ornaments, and furnishings, not just local forms but mixing styles from everywhere. Besides Indian blankets and tapestries adorning the walls and covering chair backs, and pottery pieces emblazoned with Inca or in some cases possibly Central American designs, Cade picked out a couple of Benin bronzes, ebony carvings and figurines that looked African, an Arab burnous, and a Cossack astrakhan hat. Crossed Maori throwing spears commanded the rear of an alcove, between an arrangement of Navajo sand paintings. The bureau at the rear of the large room that Tevlak led them to was Victorian European or North American; a hand-cut glass decanter atop an ivory lacework corner table that could have been Turkish held a decorative wax candle (ugh); the Easter Island head set on the sill of the high window was wearing a French kepi. Marie caught Cade’s eye and gave a short, bemused shake of her head.

Two of the Hyadeans that Tevlak had mentioned—a youngish-looking man and an older female—were seated together at one end of a large central table, which from the litter of bric-a-brac on the surrounding shelves and side cabinet had been cleared to make room. A shiny cylindrical object with what looked like a lens was set up on a stand at the other end, and a couple of similar devices were to the sides of the room. They looked like cameras. A flat box with a screen lay near the one on the table. There was another box with a screen and controls, along with an opened case of papers, pieces of auxiliary equipment, and other oddments in front of the younger Hyadean. He looked at Cade expectantly and seemed tempted to grin, though uncertain if he should. He had dark green hair blending into black in parts, and had acquired a T-shirt with an animal design and inscription in Spanish, though still worn beneath a regular Hyadean tunic jacket. His features were familiar.

“I know you, don’t I?” Cade began. “Where was it . . . ?”

“Veyan Nyarl,” the Hyadean supplied. “We met at the mission in Los Angeles a few months ago. I was passing through the West Coast.”

“Yes, right! You were the . . . ‘investigator’—from some Hyadean reporting outfit that worked with the news media.”

“I still am.” Nyarl indicated the female with him. “And this is the person in charge of my . . . I suppose you’d say something like ‘section’: Hetch Luodine.”

“Hello, Mr. Cade.” Luodine extended a hand. “Hetch,” Cade knew, was a Hyadean form of female address, something like “Ms.”—not part of the name. It was appropriate for Nyarl to use it when referring to his boss. She had traveled to most parts of Earth, putting together what she described as stories about “more interesting and unusual” sides of Terran life for Hyadean consumption. The blue-and-yellow flyer outside was hers and Nyarl’s.

Cade indicated Marie. “This is Marie . . .” He looked at her uncertainly, realizing he didn’t know. “Cade?” She nodded. “My, er . . . a very good friend.” Marie and they exchanged greetings.

The remaining Hyadean had meanwhile stood up from an armchair—embroidered Queen Anne, fitted with tasseled silk cushions that looked Chinese—where he had been sitting when they entered. He was broad, with curly brown hair, which was unusual, and an exceptionally Hyadean face composed of solid horizontal lines, looking as if it had come out of a press. He wore a loose, dark shirtlike garment tucked into baggy black trousers secured by a belt, which carried a hand-weapon in a gray, holsterlike pouch.

“This is Brezc Hudro,” Tevlak informed them. “He is with the—”

“Military,” Marie supplied.

Tevlak looked surprised. “How did you know? He is out of uniform.”

“I can tell,” Marie said.

Cade looked the Hyadean up and down again. He could picture him as one of the Hyadeans they had seen on duty at the air terminal the day before.

“You are from CounterAction,” Luodine said to Marie. “Are soldiers so much alike everywhere?”

“Something like that. You develop a radar.”

Hudro seemed unperturbed, simply spreading his hands in a gesture that asked what he could add to that.

Tevlak fussed around, finding seats and clearing chairs of trinket boxes and framed prints. An Indian housekeeper appeared, and went away again with orders from Tevlak for refreshments and drinks. Vrel opened the warm-up talk. “You have a genuine native dwelling,” he remarked to Tevlak. “Most Hyadeans that I know prefer our own prefabs, even away from the bases. Does it go with the Terran art, somehow?”

“We were just asking the same thing when you arrived,” Luodine said.

Tevlak, who hadn’t sat down himself but continued moving around the room, made an expansive gesture that could have meant anything. “I like native Terran surroundings. They create a stratosphere that helps me think.”

“
Atmosphere
,” his veebee corrected from somewhere beneath the poncho, which Tevlak had left on.

“Whatever. You don’t have to talk and be prattled back at all the time. We back home have forgotten it.”

“Do you feel safe out here, away from the bases?” Thryase asked. “With the trouble that’s going on among the Terrans? A lot of them don’t like us. I’ve seen it myself in the U.S. Did you know that we’re training their police and military?”

Tevlak guffawed loudly. Cade suspected it was an acquired mannerism. Hyadeans didn’t laugh much, tending more just to smile when amused. When they did, it usually signified embarrassment. “It’s different here. I am a threat to nobody. Everyone here is aware of it. Do you know what the prices I can get mean to them?” He gestured in the direction of the window. “Did you see those people outside? They travel miles to bring me their work. I am the big father-number.”

“
Figure.
”

“Figure.” Tevlak laughed again. This time it seemed Hyadean. Hudro seemed to have reservations but chose not to press them at this point.

Vrel, who Cade gathered was the organizer of the meeting, looked at Luodine. “Let’s get started. It’s your show now. How do you want to do it?”

“I’ve got a list of things to cover. We go through a dummy run first.” Luodine nodded at Roland and Marie. “That’ll give you a chance to familiarize and get your lines together. Then we do it again live, a bit more formally. Don’t worry about getting it perfect. We do a lot of editing.”

“Wait a minute,” Cade said. “What are we talking about here, ‘live’?” He remembered the direct communications to Chryse that he had seen in the Hyadean offices in LA. “Is this going out over your network back home?”

“Well . . . of course.” Luodine looked surprised. “Isn’t that why we are here? It’s not just to drink coffee.”

“You mean it’ll be going out right now, as we speak?” Marie queried. She glanced at Cade uneasily.

“Not that directly,” Luodine replied. “I said we do preliminary editing here. Then it would be reviewed and cleaned up by the directors back home. But within a few days or so, sure. I’d hope you’re going to be big news—the other side to what the people there have been told. Hyadeans involved with Terran leaders who plot assassinations and lie about it. What an exposure! We got the idea from watching how the media works here. Didn’t you know? Vrel, didn’t you tell them? “

“I was more concerned with getting them out of the country,” Vrel said.

Cade shook his head, bewildered. Yes, it was the kind of thing he’d wanted; but it was happening so soon. The thought of talking to aliens at distant stars rendered him momentarily speechless. A week ago he had been just a guy in California making a living and minding his own business. Now he was hours away from possibly becoming an interstellar celebrity.

“What’s the problem?” Luodine asked. “I thought you’d be in favor.”

Marie began, “It’s just that . . .” She faltered, looking to Cade for a moment. “Well, it isn’t as if they’re not in communication with Earth. In two days the powers back here will have the story, know our faces. Then where do we go?”

“But that’s no different from the position you’re in anyway,” Vrel pointed out. Which of course was true. Cade looked blankly back at Marie. Her expression said she couldn’t argue with it either. “You’re already wanted by the ISS,” Vrel went on. “So I assumed you’d want us to make a version of the take for the U.S. network as well. That’s what I told Luodine.”

“We’re set up to do it,” Luodine confirmed.

Cade had a glimpse of how Terrans must look through Hyadean eyes—forever finding reasons why not to. He decided to try being a Hyadean instead. “Okay,” he heard himself say. “So let’s do it.”

Luodine lapsed into Hyadean exchanges with Nyarl, who carried out what sounded like some kind of programming dialogue with the equipment, checking responses on one of the screens. Then they were ready to go. Thryase opened by answering some questions from Luodine, then going off into longer monologues. Since this version was for a Hyadean audience, the language was Hyadean. For Cade and Marie’s benefit, Vrel summarized in murmured asides. Essentially, Thryase was repeating the skepticism he had expressed on the way from Uyali regarding the Hyadean depictions of the Querl. He offered the conclusion that the hostility with the Querl was an outcome of the same kind of policy that he saw being enacted on Earth now. What kind of policy was that? Luodine asked. Exploitation, Thryase answered. The Hyadean power elite sought to subdue the Querl in order to establish overlordships for themselves, away from the drabness of their own tired, worn-down planets. But the splendors of Earth went far beyond anything ever seen on the Querl worlds. Now Earth represented the premium pickings for luxury resorts and estates, to be made a quasi-feudal reserve where the privileged could get rich from Terran labor and resources. Financial control was being effected with the collusion of Terran leaders in return for the Hyadeans conferring wealth, power, and protection.

“That’s exactly what the AANS is fighting,” Marie whispered to Cade. “The West is told it’s about Asia wanting to hang on to its economic advantages.”

“Now, you will be shown back on Chryse, right?” Cade checked with Thryase when he had finished. “So what kind of risks will that mean? I thought that independent coverage outside the official guidelines was unheard of.” He felt strange as the Hyadean cameras, which had been tracking the speakers automatically from different angles in the room, caught his voice and turned toward him.

“I came here as an observer. I described what I observed.” Thryase shrugged. “You see, I’ve been learning a lot since I came to Earth.”

That set the background. Next it was Cade and Marie’s turn. Luodine briefed them that the object was to get their version of the Farden-Meakes affair, the cover-up and attempt to lay the blame elsewhere, and the bid to silence the witnesses. Luodine had obviously been well versed by Vrel. She put Cade and Marie on-screen together, beginning by asking them questions and then leading them into elaborating in their own words. They spoke in English, naturally, which they were told would be dubbed by a translation for the final version. Vrel explained that the voiceover would describe them as being interviewed after escaping pursuit in the U.S. Exactly where they were and how they had gotten there would, understandably, be left vague. After a few repeats and reruns, Luodine declared that she was satisfied.