Araminta Station (70 page)

“Then don’t bother to come. I’ll call the IPCC.”

Barch’s voice became a trifle strained. “I suggest that today we arrest only the ringleaders. Then we can make up our minds as to the others. Most of them are just simpleminded religious fanatics. We’ll have to sort them out as we go. Anyway, wait there; don’t move and don’t talk to anyone; you might compromise your case.”

“That seems farfetched. Inspector Barch, are you dragging your feet on this case?”

“Of course not! Never! Not at all! I’ll be there in a very few minutes and explain everything.”

The telephone went dead. Glawen turned away, half smiling. “Barch’s patience is very elastic.”

“Only until he arrives. Now we must decide how to dispose ourselves. It’s important that we catch the rascals red-handed, so to speak.”

“Not too red-handed, I hope.”

“That will be our goal.”

Half an hour passed. The first silver fringes of dawn showed around the horizon; a half light the color of milky water illuminated the landscape. Down from the sky came the flyer from Fexelburg, to land directly in front of the store. Four men jumped briskly to the ground: Inspectors Barch and Tanaquil, with two others of ordinary rank.

Glawen waited by the front of the store. The four policemen sauntered toward him. Barch raised his arm in an affable gesture.

“You will remember Inspector Tanaquil, of course.”

“Of course.”

“You have had some unusual adventures,” said Barch.

“True,” said Glawen. “To my great discomfort. But I am puzzled.”

“How so?” asked Barch.

“That flyer is only a four-seater. There are five of us here, and we will want to take at least five or six persons into custody at the seminary.”

“Well, Glawen, if the truth be known, it’s not all so easy as it first seemed. The Ordene notified us some time ago that you had escaped from her custody. As I mentioned, in Lutwiler Country, we tend to let the Ordene Zaa do things as she thinks best. She has brought serious charges against you and wants you back at the seminary.”

“You must be joking,” said Glawen. “I am an officer of the IPCC.”

“I joke very seldom. So there is one of the options I mentioned. Wullin was annoyed when I woke him for orders, and he provided us a second option, which you may well prefer. It is called the Fexelburg hammock, and all things considered, I think this is the option we shall use.”

“Your manner verges on the offensive,” said Glawen. “I know nothing of your hammock, nor do I want to know.”

Barch only laughed. “I shall explain it anyway. We use it when four officers and a rascal must ride in a four-seat flyer. The rascal uses the hammock.” He signaled to his underlings. “Show us how quick you are with the hammock. It’s cold out here and I’m quite willing to get home to my breakfast.”

“Come to think of it,” said Glawen, “I am too. You can’t imagine the terrible food at the seminary.”

“I’m afraid there’ll be no breakfast for you today.”

The patrolmen approached Glawen with a length of rope. “Don’t bother,” said Glawen. “I prefer to wait for the omnibus.”

“Come, Glawen! Just a bit closer to the flyer. You don’t care to walk? No matter. We’ll drag you. Ferl, get busy with the rope. Now, then -”

Two men seized Glawen and marched him to the flyer. There Ferl dropped a loop around Glawen’s ankles, a half hitch around his arms and chest and another half hitch around his neck. The other end of the rope passed through the cargo hatch into the flyer, where it could be cast off at an appropriate moment, somewhere over the steppe.

“You have forgotten something” said Glawen.

“Eh? What is that?”

“I am an IPCC officer.”

“I bear you no special malice on that account,” said Barch. “Gentlemen, are we ready? Then let us be up and away.”

Plock appeared from the far side of the flyer, carrying a gun pointed in the direction of the four policemen. “What seems to be going on?”

“Oh, my,” said Barch. “It’s Party Plock.”

Plock looked from face to face. “Do I recognize Inspectors Barch and Tanaquil?”

“You do,” said Barch, in a voice suddenly subdued. “It appears that Glawen, so callow and innocent, has played us a trick.”

“A harsh cruel trick,” said Inspector Tanaquil.

“Something of the sort,” said Plock. “Still, if you recall, he warned you, and warned you again, that you were molesting an IPCC officer.”

Barch spoke in doleful tones: “I conceived it to be no more than youthful vainglory.”

Two of Plock’s men came up from behind and searched the Fexels, taking their weapons. A third released Glawen from the “Fexelburg hammock.”

Glawen said: “I am disappointed with Inspectors Barch and Tanaquil. They truly meant to kill me. Strange. They were so friendly at Fexelburg. I have a great deal to learn about human nature.”

“Orders are orders,” said Barch. “They must be obeyed.”

“Who gave you these orders?” asked Plock.

“Allow me the dignity of faithful silence, Commander Plock.”

“Out here in Lutwiler Country, I must be called Chief Adjudicant Plock.”

“Just as you like, Chief Adjudicant.”

“I am afraid that I must press you for an answer. You can die your death either here, faithless and undignified, or totally silent, totally dignified, inside a crawl of purple ooze.”

“Has it come to that?”

“This is Lutwiler Country. You tried to murder an IPCC agent in cold blood. You know the rules.”

“Yes. I know the rules.”

“I will tell you this. You shall not eat your breakfast this day, but console yourself. Tonight many of your superiors will not be dining at their favorite resorts. We cookie-pushers are ready to clean out the Fexelburg police force. Once more: who gave you the orders?”

“Wullin, naturally, as you well know.”

“No one higher up the ladder?”

“I wouldn’t dare call them at that time of night.”

“Wullin might, and Wullin will tell me before he dies.”

“Why bother to ask him? Everyone is in it together.”

“In a week they will all be gone. You are the first, if it is any consolation to you.” Plock fired his gun four times and four corpses lay in the road.

Plock went into the general store and summoned the white-faced Keelums. “I assume that you have a power wagon of sorts?”

“Yes, sir, that I do, and quite a good vehicle, which we use to bring in stuffs from Fexelburg.”

“Here is ten sols. Bring out your power wagon, load these four dead hulks aboard, take them out on the steppe and drop them off where they will give no offense. As you see, we are IPCC officers, and this is your command: say nothing of this matter to anyone.”

“No, sir! Not a word to anyone!”

“Then be quick, before the whole village is up and about.”

Plock returned to the road. Glawen, sorting through the weapons taken from the Fexelburg police, selected a small handgun for his own use, which he tucked into the pocket of his jacket.

“Our business here is done,” said Plock. “Are you of a mind now to visit Pogan’s Point?”

“I am ready,” said Glawen.

“The police flyer will be useful,” said Plock. He spoke to the two full agents. “Kylte, Narduke: the two of you follow us in the extra flyer to Pogan’s Point.”

Chapter VIII, Part 6

Zonk’s Star, rising in the east, brought the pallid light of morning to Lutwiler Country. The two flyers slid across the steppe, following the road which Glawen had traveled by bus the night before.

Glawen sat relaxed and half asleep, until he was aroused by Plock: “Pogan’s Point ahead.”

Glawen sat up straight and tried to become alert. Ahead the black crag of Pogan’s Point reared high into the air. Glawen pointed. “Look! Halfway up you can see windows glittering in the sunlight! That’s the seminary.”

The flyers circled the crag and landed in the central square of the village. The occupants alighted and wasting no time, started up the zigzag road which led to the seminary. Only Maase, youngest of the recruits, was left to guard the flyers and maintain contact with the office at Fexelburg.

Back, forth, back, forth, trudged the six men and finally arrived at the front of the seminary. Plock rapped at the door with the door-knocker: once, twice, a third time, eliciting no response. He tried the door, but found it locked. At last the door moved slowly ajar, with a dour creaking of the hinges. Mutis peered through the opening. He looked around the group, giving Glawen no sign of recognition. He growled: “What do you want with us? This is the Monomantic Seminary; we know nothing of Zab Zonk or his treasure. Be off with you!”

Plock pushed the door back against Mutis’ outraged protest. “What are you doing?” cried Mutis. “Stand back, or it will be the worse for you!”

The IPCC agents entered the vestibule. “Bring the Ordene Zaa here in double-quick time!”

“Who shall I say is calling?” demanded Mutis sullenly.

Glawen laughed. “Come, Mutis! You know very well who is calling and why. This is an IPCC squad, and you are in deep trouble.”

Mutis departed and presently returned with Zaa. She halted in the entrance to the stone passage and surveyed the group. Today she wore the garments in which Glawen had seen her first. She took note of his presence and stared at him a full three seconds.

Glawen said: “If you recall, I warned that you could not molest an IPCC officer and escape without punishment. The time has come and you will see that I am right.”

Zaa spoke sharply to Plock “What is your business here? State it quickly, then leave!”

“Glawen has hinted of our business,” said Plock. “We are in no hurry, since we intend to do a thorough job.”

“What are you talking about? Do you realize that this is the Monomantic seminary?”

“You reassure me!” said Plock. “This is the correct address and we are not making a dreadful mistake. As of now, you and all other residents of the seminary are under arrest, for offenses committed against Captain Glawen Clattuc. You may instruct them to assemble outside.”

Zaa made no move to obey. She said stonily: “Your jurisdiction does not prevail. We are the law of Lutwiler Country. You must leave here or stand in defiance of the law.”

Plock lost patience. “Quickly now! If you do not obey at once my men will tie you securely and carry you outside.” Zaa shrugged and, turning her head, spoke to Mutis. “Call general assembly outside.” Zaa started to leave the room. Glawen asked: “Where are you going?”

“It is no concern of yours.”

“Answer the question, if you please,” said Plock.

“I have some private affairs to which I wish to attend.”

Plock spoke to one of his subordinates: “Go with her and make sure that she destroys no records.”

“I will wait,” said Zaa.

The Monomantics filed downstairs and out the door, to stand blinking in the morning Zonklight.

Plock asked Zaa : “Is this all?”

Zaa looked at Mutis: “Is everyone down?”

“Everyone.”

Plock spoke to the group. “Crimes have been committed on these premises. Their full description is not yet clear, but they are certainly serious. Each one of you shares the guilt. It is irrelevant that you took no active part in the crimes, or that it was none of your concern, or that you were preoccupied with your studies. All are accomplices, in greater or lesser degree, and all must pay the penalty.”

Glawen had been looking from face to face with growing perplexity. He said: “It seems to me that one person, at least, is not here. Where is Lilo?”

No one replied. Glawen addressed his question to Zaa directly: “Where is Lilo?”

Zaa showed a small cold smile. “She is not here.”

“I can see that. Where is she?”

“We do not discuss our internal arrangements with strangers.”

“I don’t want discussion: just an answer to my question. Where is Lilo?”

Zaa gave an indifferent shrug and looked off across the steppe.

Glawen turned to Mutis. “Where is Lilo?”

“I am not authorized to give out information.”

One of the Monomantics, a young man standing a little apart, turned sharply away, as if in disgust. Glawen asked him: “Tell me: where is Lilo?”

Zaa swung sharply about. “Danton, you will give no information.”

Danton replied in flat intonations: “With all respect, these are police officers of high rank. I must answer their questions.”

“Quite right,” said Glawen. “Answer my question, if you will.”

Danton darted a side glance toward Zaa, then spoke: “About midnight they noticed that you were gone. In our rooms we all heard the cries of rage, and wondered what had occurred.”

“This was about midnight, you say?”

“Something after midnight. I do not know the exact hour.”

Somewhat past midnight, sitting in the dark at Flicken, Glawen had felt his mind picked up and tumbled in a wash of rage and hatred: perhaps a telepathic projection from the seminary, though coincidence could not be ruled out, “Then what happened?”

Zaa spoke again: “Danton, you need say no more.”

Danton, however, spoke on in a dreary monotone. “There was a great uproar. Lilo was blamed. They chided her for bringing you extra sheets, and would not listen to her denials. Mutis and Funo put her in the owl’s cage. Last night the winds blew harsh and bitter. This morning she was dead. Mutis and Funo took the body around the hill to the garbage pit and threw it away.”

Glawen winced. He dared not look at Mutis lest the roil in his stomach cause an undignified reaction. When he felt that he could control his voice, he swung about and spoke to Zaa: “Lilo had nothing to do with the sheets. I took them two months ago, the first time I occupied the room. I would have been gone at that time if you had not put me into the tomb. Lilo knew nothing of my plans.”

Zaa made no comment.

Glawen spoke on. “You murdered the girl for no reason whatever.”

Zaa was unmoved. “Mistakes are made everywhere. Each instant, across the Gaean Reach, a thousand such events are taking place. They are implicit to the conduct of coherent civilization.”

“So it may be,” said Plock. “This is the function of the IPCC: to minimize these so-called mistakes. In the present case, judgment is clear and simple, despite the complexity of your motives. You imprisoned Glawen Clattuc; when he escaped, you murdered an innocent girl. If rumor can be believed, as often it can, you have murdered an unknown number of tourists. Am I correct in this assumption?”