Antagonist - Childe Cycle 11 (81 page)

Dahno
watched
his
brother's
performance,
and
kept
his
silence.

Few
noticed.
Those
Bleys
had
won
over
during
the
secret
conclave
on
Harmony
found
their
plan
to
stampede
the
gathering
largely unneeded;
the
Others
who
had
not
been
at
that
gathering
quickly embraced
Bleys'
vision.
They
didn't
even
bother
with
a
vote;
up
to now,
the
organization
had
never
taken
one,
and
so
no
one
thought of
it.

Still,
it
took
time
to
hammer
out
an
outline
for
the
new
organization,
and
there
was
a
lot
of
infighting
when
it
came
to
picking
which Others
would
sit
on
the
Council.
Bleys
knew
it
could
all
have
been accomplished
in
much
less
time
if
he
had
simply
stepped
in
to
tell them
how
it
should
be;
but
that
would
have
deprived
them
of
the proprietary
feeling—the
feeling
of
ownership
of
the
organization— that
was
the
main
thing
he
had
wanted
to
see
come
out
of
this meeting.

He
was
pleased
to
find,
too,
that
they
all
still
recognized
that Bleys—and,
they
thought,
his
brother—were
the
ones
who
had
gotten
them
this
far.
That
spirit
of
deference
and
cooperation
would not
last,
he
knew.
But
it
would
last
for
a
while—long
enough
for him
to
lead
them
all
in
the
beginnings
of
the
direction
he
wanted.

Once
set
on
the
course
he
desired,
they
would
find
it
difficult
to move
in
another
direction.

He
would
deal
with
the
coming
problems
when
he
had
to— before
their
future
opposition
became
strong
enough
to
beat
him.

CHAPTER
26

From
his
place
at
the
dais,
Bleys
silently
watched
as
the
Others
at the
tables
ranked
before
him
chattered
together
in
small
groups. This
was
the
last
day
of
the
convocation
which
had
so
dramatically altered
the
structure
of
the
Others'
organization.
Throughout
the weeks
here,
personal
alliances
and
enmities
had
been
created,
and had
shifted;
boredom
had
set
in,
to
be
relieved
by
renewed
enthusiasm;
and
even
a
few
romances
had
bloomed,
distracting
the
concerned
parties—all
exactly
the
sort
of
doings
to
be
expected
in
any large
gathering
of
people
away
from
their
usual
routines.

In
the
end,
he
believed,
he
had
prevailed,
at
least
enough
that his
plan
could
go
forward.
Some
of
those
before
him
were
exulting at
the
vision
of
wealth
and
power
placed
before
them,
and
for
the moment
they
credited
Bleys
with
turning
it
over
to
them,
and
were committed
to
supporting
his
plans
to
subjugate
the
Dorsai
and
the Exotics,
and
to
unite
the
Younger
Worlds
in
a
power
bloc
that
would ultimately
be
capable
of
standing
up
to
Old
Earth.

Some
had
other
motivations,
such
as
those
he
had
provided
to the
gathering
of
idealists;
they,
too,
were
coming
out
of
this
gathering
with
something
to
prize.

What
might
happen
when
all
of
them
became
used
to
their
gains was
a
subject
none
bothered
to
worry
about.
Indeed,
some
would never
worry
about
more
than
their
rosy
present;
and
as
for
those who
were
of
the
sort
that
would,
before
long,
look
for
more—he
had a
little
time
yet
in
which
he
could
count
on
them
giving
him
what he
asked
for.

Now,
as
he
maintained
his
silence,
one
by
one
the
faces
turned
in his
direction,
the
chatter
dying
away.

"—what
I
say!"
As
usual,
the
last
voice
to
continue
speaking
stood
out,
shockingly
noticeable
in
the
new
silence.
Bleys
waited several
beats
more,
before
speaking.

"I
have
one
more
item,"
he
said,
"which
you'll
have
noted
as
the last
thing
on
the
agenda—the
matter
of
making
some
of
your
people
available
for
a
new
assignment."

Skepticism
showed
on
more
than
a
few
of
their
faces.

"We
were
informed
people
would
be
wanted,"
Hammer
Martin said.
"But
since
you
didn't
tell
us
what
the
mission
was
to
be,
I,
at least—"
He
looked
about
as
if
seeking
evidence
of
solidarity.
"—I couldn't
be
sure
just
what
sort
of
people
were
wanted."
He
paused, as
if
expecting
an
answer;
when
none
came,
he
continued,
a
certain belligerence
in
his
voice.

"So
I
sent
for
a
half-dozen
of
my
people,
who
have
a
varying
mix of
skills,"
Hammer
concluded.
"If
you'll
tell
me
what
you're
looking
for,
I
can
name
the
ones
who
match
your
needs."

"We'll
take
them
all,"
Bleys
said.
He
moved
his
gaze
about
the long
room,
projecting
calm
in
the
face
of
a
rising
tide
of
protest.

"We're
going
to
need
all
the
people
you've
selected
for
us,"
he said,
"and
more
besides.
Messages
have
already
gone
out
to
your home
offices,
naming
people
we
selected
in
our
analyses
of
your
tables
of
organization;
in
fact,
some
of
those
people
arc
probably
already
on
their
way
here."

Like
any
managers
of
bureaucratic
organizations,
the
leaders
before
him,
Bleys
believed,
had
probably
chosen
to
select
for
his
use people
they
felt
they
could
do
without—the
lazy,
the
inefficient,
the inept,
and
the
flawed.
He
knew
these
leaders
would
now
take
his words
very
much
like
a
slap
in
the
face.
It
was
a
breach
of
the
unspoken
protocols
normal
to
any
large
organization—even
though the
Others'
organization,
up
until
this
meeting,
in
fact
had
no
protocols
beyond
obedience
to
Dahno
and
Bleys.
But
Bleys
was
confident
he
could
bring
them
past
their
outrage.

Beside
Bleys,
Dahno
shifted
slightly
in
his
chair,
where
he
had been
lounging
back,
as
if
disconnected
from
the
meeting,
for
some time.
Dahno
had
argued
with
Bleys
about
this
project,
when
Bleys suggested
it.

Is
he
pouting?
Bleys
wondered.
Or
is
he
worried
about
their
reaction?
Bleys
did
not
need
to
be
told
he
had
just
thrown
metaphorical cold
water
on
the
people
before
him;
he
had,
after
all,
not
only
diminished
their
individual
kingdoms,
but
rubbed
their
noses
in
the fact
that
he
had
the
power
to
do
so.
These
were
people
who
had
become
used
to
occupying
positions
of
considerable
influence,
if
not control,
on
entire
planets—people
who,
moreover,
had
just
been handed
visions
of
power
on
an
interstellar
scale.
They
had
become subject
to
the
same
effect
power
has
on
most
people:
they
had
very high
opinions
of
their
own
importance.