Power Play (26 page)

Torkel had managed to get a message off to his father, although he wasn’t sure if that would do any good. Why, his father might even have told the officials where to find him: Whittaker was scrupulous about obeying the law, and Marmion was an old and valued associate.

What Torkel had counted on was Captain Louchard’s piratical expertise, as well as an ignorance of the Gentlepersons’ Agreement on kidnapping. There hadn’t been an abduction of someone of Marmion de Revers Algemeine’s social prominence in so many years that the pact was no longer common knowledge. Besides, Torkel would have been happy enough with the abduction of the minor personalities, to pay back Yana, and indirectly Sean, as well as those obnoxious kids. Caveat emptor! Even a pirate should know where to draw the line in dastardly deeds.

Odd, if Louchard was responsible for Torkel’s arrest, that there had been nothing on the net reports about the capture of pirate and crew. That would have given Torkel sufficient warning to make for parts unknown and to undergo a complete identity change. He’d some tentative plans made in that direction, but he’d been taken so by surprise that he hadn’t a chance to put them into use. He’d opened his door and there they were!

And the complaint had originated not from Dama Marmion de Revers Algemeine but Farringer Ball. That didn’t make much sense to Torkel Fiske, who had last seen Farringer Ball on a screen at SpaceBase in Petaybee. And the man was physically on that wretched iceberg now. How under the suns had he managed to end up there? Of all places in the civilized galaxy!

The sight of Matthew Luzon also in custody did nothing to relieve Torkel’s sense of impending doom. As if expecting his movements to be shortly confined in a space coffin, he began to pace the cell. Small as it was, he could still walk about it. Three paces up and three paces back and two back and forth . . . and if he went too fast, he cracked his shins on the hard plastic edge of the built-in bed or slammed his toes against the slab wall.

The
Jenny,
now registered as the
Curly-corn,
with new papers and no history before its recommissioning and complete overhaul, made her “maiden” landing at SpaceBase with a shipment of plumbing units, temporary housing units—though none as fancy as the Nakatira cubes—and other modern conveniences which most inhabitants of the galaxy took for granted but which sent the happy recipients on Petaybee into raptures. An accompanying note delivered by the captain, Petaybean-born Declan Doyle, newly commissioned and still stunned by his promotion and good fortune, indicated that the shipments had been purchased with the rewards for the return of many valuable and priceless items found on board the ship when she had been stopped and boarded and her crew placed in custody.

One arrival among the others particularly pleased Sister Igneous Rock. It was a collection of texts on the theories and principles behind the application and installation of geothermal and hydroelectric power, the English translation from the original Icelandic, dating from several centuries before. Sister Igneous Rock discussed the windfall with Brother Shale; then, on every subsequent day, she could be found at the communion cave reading bits aloud and afterward asking pertinent questions.

“What do you think? Would that work well here? Could you do a channel here and here, and still meet your other commitments? This wouldn’t hurt, would it?”

She kept a log of her research and inquiries, and the planet’s responses, and was compiling a list for Sean, Yana, and ultimately Madame Algemeine of equipment that would eventually be needed to assist the planet in its first venture into cooperative technology. Her intense contact with the planet considerably reduced her awe of it, but although it lost its godlike stature as a result, the planet, considering and collaborating with her for the welfare of its inhabitants, never stopped being “beneficent” in her mind.

The first outbound voyage was to deliver to the Intergal Station the sixty survivors of the Asian Esoteric and Exotic Company, whose unauthorized presence on Petaybee was adversely regarded by Intergal and CIS. Intergal tried to evade the responsibility, but Petaybean officials were perfectly within their rights to return the illegal aliens to their previous port of call. Their employers had been notified to collect the stranded men and women.

The inbound voyage was a joyous occasion, for spacegoing Petaybean citizens, specialists in many needed fields, had been invited to return home to provide the skills needed to develop its potential. They came willingly and with songs about how they would help Petaybee: how and where they would live, and how well their children would live, where the air was clear and clean, if cold, and a person could walk again with pride that she or he had been born on a world that knew exactly what it wanted.

The official CIS meeting was convened in the architecturally astonishing Arrivals Hall of Petaybee Space Facility—designed by Oscar O’Neill from the bits and pieces that Intergal had not thought salvageable, along with some remarkable local materials donated by the planet itself. O.O. had terminated his employment with Nakatira Cubes in order to devote the rest of his life to learning about the O’Neill clan and adapting many long-held construction notions to Petaybean needs and materials.

Farringer Ball, looking fit with a winter-tanned skin and now walking without aids, was the chairperson. Although he still tired easily, he had obviously recovered his zest for living and banged the opening gavel with a firm hand.

Phon Tho Anaciliact, thoroughly enchanted by what had been accomplished so speedily, was there as the senior representative of his organization.

Admiral-General Touche Segilla-Dove had arrived in his impressive gig with his aides and other service personnel, since that arm of Galactic Management always had to have a say in such matters. One orbit of his gig, with all its sophisticated sensors and investigative devices, had proved that Petaybee was in fact totally unprotected. One had to discount its navy of one ship and one medium-sized shuttle sporting the Petaybean arms of an orange cat couchant and a curly-corn rampant, both on an ice floe in the middle of what appeared to be a cave. One spacer and one shuttle could not constitute any threat to galactic peace and stability. The planet had only the one space facility—if one could find it in the blizzards.

Admiral-General Segilla-Dove might not quite believe that the planet was itself a sentient being, but its spokespersons certainly were. And if they claimed to be speaking on its behalf after serious and deep consultations, that was fine by him. A planet held to an orbit around its primary—that was a scientific fact—and was therefore unlikely to go about the galaxy fomenting rebellion and upsetting the status quo.

What he did find exceedingly odd was the bald statement that the
planet
was listening to every word said in these proceedings and that that was why the walls of the Arrivals Hall appeared to alter in pattern and color, and why the floor occasionally sent wisps of mist to curl about his uniformed trouser legs.

The two alien members of the commission—a Hepatode, in its globe with the transcorder bobbing up and down the circumference, and a Deglatite, shielded from the eyes of the Imperfect by its carapace—were acknowledged by Farringer Ball.

He began by expressing regret that the members of the CIS had been delayed in the performance of this duty by his own physical illness but he hoped they would appreciate the visit to this newest sentient.

The witnesses were then called, one after another, to give evidence to the sentience of the entity on which they all stood. Clodagh Senungatuk was first, and spoke quietly and authoritatively.

Dr. von Clough, who had assisted her throughout the treatment of Farringer Ball and the casualties from the south, testified to the tremendous healing potential of Petaybee. He said, however, that much study would need to be done before it could be determined which elements of Petaybean therapy could be isolated from the milieu and used off-planet. Meanwhile, he would seek permission to transport certain of his patients to Petaybee for therapy similar to that which had been used to rehabilitate Farringer Ball.

Then Sean Shongili, as the resident ecobiologist, delivered his short address in a concise and very reassuring manner.

Colonel Yanaba Maddock-Shongili, coadministrator for and in the name of Petaybee, spoke of her experiences with the entity and her knowledge, based on a long and impressive military career with Intergal itself, that sentience came in many forms, this one differing only in size, and certainly could not be assumed to be
less
intelligent than any others. Namid Mendeley’s testimony was an unexpected bonus, a complete corroboration of all the others had said, but with the additional weight of his scientific acumen and his professional standing in the field of astronomy. The astronomer had spent every possible minute in the Kilcoole communion cave, conversing with Petaybee.

“The thing we must all remember about a planet awake barely two hundred years, gentlepersons, is that it is still a baby. While necessarily volcanic in temperament”—he paused for their laughter—“Petaybee shows unusual gentleness and restraint dealing with most problems and persons. It has told me that it regards anyone or anything that happens on its surface or inside of it as an extension of itself, and makes what it feels are the necessary adjustments. It has queried me, for instance, on the physical aspects of the rest of the universe, though the nature of the universe seems to be something it understands instinctively.”

“Excuse me, Doctor,” one incredulous juror had asked. “But how exactly does it tell you that?”

“Six months ago, I understand, it would not have done, which is a sign of how remarkably fast it can respond to certain stimuli. With the current crises caused by the outside threat from the company and others seeking to utilize its resources before the planet has quite discovered them, the planet rapidly developed a direct means of communicating. Its mineral content contains the same substances used in storing sounds for reproduction in computer equipment. The planet has always absorbed the words of those who speak within its walls—it stores the words and, like a baby, regurgitates them as echoes at what it deems to be appropriate times. Sister Igneous Rock and I have been having daily prolonged conversations with the planet, and like any child, its vocabulary and communication skills have grown as a result. Local people have always gone to these inner spaces, they say, to include the planet in the seasonal and critical events of their lives. It should be noted, and you may question them on this matter,
that when Colonel Maddock and her companions carried small talismanic bags of Petaybean soil gleaned from the inner caves, they felt not only psychological comfort, but also some form of telepathic communication with the planet. This is not hard to imagine, given the telepathic links between humans and animals, animals and other animals—as witnessed by many in the incident involving the Asian Esoteric and Exotic Company on the southern continent—and occasionally, as in an earlier incident, plants, the planet, and human and animal agencies. Such links are so close that I personally am led to agree with Petaybee that, in fact, everything that comes within its atmosphere is part of the life of a highly complex and diversified organism consisting not only of minerals and elements, but of every living thing that comes in contact with its surface. This tremendous telepathic linkage and the need for ‘adjustment’ of initially outside organisms to the planet are why Petaybee has at times had such
a devastating effect on some humans. Perhaps in time this will be modified. Anything is possible.”

“Anything is possible?” asked one of the more literal-minded jurors. “Is this all there is to your theory? Have you no more definite conclusions?”

“I have, as well as recommendations that I think the Petaybean inhabitants will agree with. The planet has infinite potential beyond anything I’ve ever seen, experienced, or heard of in my career. However, it is a growing, developing entity and it must be nurtured and encouraged to find its own best uses and values. New immigration must be monitored and numbers controlled so as not to overwhelm the available resources, and most particularly so that newcomers to the planet can become properly acclimated and ‘adjusted’ without harmful aftereffects.”

Admiral-General Segilla-Dove was inclined to believe Mendeley, though the opinion was not exactly what he had expected from an astronomer. But the admiral-general had noticed how the mist seemed to thicken on the floor when the locals spoke. And the air in the hall also was fragrant with scents he only barely remembered from his childhood.

This meeting was really only a formality, and Farringer Ball whacked the gavel that made the whole thing right and tight in just under an hour and a half, the admiral-general noted.

Then the formal meeting was thrown open to specially invited guests, and an assortment of finger foods and a local drink called “blurry” were handed round in celebration.

The “invited” seemed to be everyone on the planet, which might explain why the Arrivals Hall on a barely terraformed iceball in the middle of nowhere was as large as it was. For certainly people were not thronging to visit, or even vacation, on Petaybee in numbers that would require such a massive facility.

Then a gaggle of musicians took their places on the dais where Farringer Ball had officiated; the music was subtly enhanced in a fashion that kept one of his aides, who was musically inclined, trying to find out where the acoustical augmentations were hidden. The admiral-general waited the customary courteous hour and then made his farewells.

He did spend a few minutes congratulating the Shongilis on their officially acknowledged status and expressing his hope that the planet would prosper. (How warm air could be blown up pant legs securely tucked into his boots, Segilla-Dove did not know, but when it reached his crotch, he was surprised and . . . relieved.)

The fact that his aides also had experienced unusual physical pleasures did not impinge on his feeling that he had been specially singled out for the attentions.