The Gripping Hand (21 page)

Glenda Ruth turned it off. Renner said, "I remember. My introduction to Crazy Eddie. Once we knew what to ask for, we got more. Jock Sinclair's Motie spoke of melting down your supply of screws to make a screwdriver. Father Hardy's Mediator talked about a religion that preached abstention from sex. We didn't know how bizarre that was, for Moties."

"Yes, but you know, we never did learn much more about it," Glenda Ruth said. "So why did you say that Crazy Eddie is supposed to fail? Don't the Moties admire Crazy Eddie? Jock certainly does."

"You'd know more than me. But yes, I think they all admire anyone mad enough to think all problems have solutions. Which doesn't mean that they expect the universe to cooperate."

"No, of course not. But I still wonder."

"The Cycles," Renner said. "It's all they have for history. Crazy Eddie thinks he can change all that. End the Cycles. Of course they admire him. They also know he's crazy, and it won't happen."

"But maybe we have the solution now. The parasite."

"Yeah, I've wondered about that," Renner said. The waiter brought coffee, and a tall champagne glass with something sparkling and pink for Glenda Ruth. Kevin ordered absently, his mind far from food.

"You knew two Mediators," Renner said. "Of course you didn't get to know Ivan."

"No. He was—more aloof. Masters are."

"And the Mediators speak for them," Renner said. "That's more obvious on the Mote than it would have been to you. But it's something you don't dare forget. Take your parasite. Jock can't make any deal that's binding on Masters back on the Mote."

"Yes—"

"There's also the question of how your parasite would get to the Mote. I doubt the Navy will let any ships go there."

"I talked to Uncle Bruno this morning," Glenda Ruth said.

"Eh?"

"The protostar. When it ignites, the Moties will come out. We have to do something before that happens. I'm sure Admiral Cziller is talking to all his classmates right now."

"Will something happen soon?"

"Of course not. Sparta isn't like that. It will have to be discussed in the Navy, then at the Palace, then the politicians will get in the act."

"Fortunately it may not collapse soon. Or does Jock know something?"

She shook her head. "He doesn't know, and he wouldn't have known. Ivan may have known things we weren't supposed to find out, but Jock and Charlie never did. And Ivan was no astronomer. He wouldn't be. Keepers aren't usually curious." The waiter brought lunch. Glenda Ruth talked all during lunch, drawing Renner out, until he realized he had told her nearly everything he'd ever thought about the Mote.

She's a damned good listener. Cares what you say. Of course she would — it's hard to tell what's an act and what isn't. Maybe none of it is.

She waited until dessert before she said, "Bruno said he wished he could go with you. To the Mote."

"We're not going to the Mote. Just to the Crazy Eddie Squadron — maybe not there, if your father doesn't lift his veto. You know he's blocking the trip. Can you talk to him?"

"I can talk. It won't help. They don't much listen to me. But I'll try — if I get Daddy to say yes, can I go with you?"

Renner managed to set the coffee cup down without spilling any.

Glenda Ruth looked defiantly at her mother. "Aaall right. You won't let Kevin and Horace Bury go. Fine. I won't go with them. I'll go with Freddy."

"Freddy!"

"Certainly. He has a ship."

"Pretty good one, too," Rod Blaine said. Sally's look silenced him before he could say anything else.

"You are not going halfway across the galaxy with that—"

Glenda Ruth cocked her head. "Freddy? You can hardly complain about his social standing. His family is as prominent as ours. About as rich, too. We went out beyond the moon for a week during Spring vacation. You didn't search wildly for an appropriate insult then."

"Did—" Sally caught herself. "It's a bit different, being in a small ship for months."

"If it's my reputation that worries you, we can take a chaperone. Or one of my friends from the Institute. Jennifer. And her mother."

"That's absurd. Jennifer can't afford that."

"I can, Mother. I'll be eighteen in two weeks, and I'll have my own money. Uncle Ben left me quite a lot, you know."

Rod and Sally exchanged looks.

"What does Freddy's father have to say about this?" Sally demanded.

"For that matter, have you asked Freddy?" Rod asked. "I know you haven't asked Bury."

"She doesn't think she has to ask anyone," Sally said.

Glenda Ruth laughed. "Freddy will be glad to take me anywhere, and you know it. And his father doesn't care what he does, if he won't join the Navy."

"Which he won't," Rod said.

"Because he knows he wouldn't be any good at it," Glenda Ruth said.

Sally shook her head. "I don't see what you see in Freddy Town-send—"

"You wouldn't, Mother. He's not a hero like you. Or Daddy. But I like him. He's funny. And Jock likes him."

"You must like him a lot if you're willing to be cooped up in that yacht of his for several months," Rod said. "And I don't think you would for a trip to Saint Ekaterina. Widget—"

"Please don't call me that."

"Sorry, Princess."

"Go ahead and wriggle, my Lord, but you'll have to think of me as an adult soon or sooner. Two weeks to practice, My Lord Blaine."

Blaine recovered fast, but for an instant he'd been jolted. Then, "Glenda Ruth, I know why Bury wants to go to New Caledonia. He wants to inspect the Blockade Fleet. But why you? Freddy's ship can't go to the blockade point! It's inside a star, and last time I looked there wasn't any Langston Field on that yacht."

"I want to see my brother. I don't have to visit the Blockade Fleet for that. He gets to New Gal twice a year."

Sally snorted. "Brother. What you want to do is go to the Mote."

"Chris would, too," Rod said. "But neither of you is going to do it."

"She's persuasive," Sally said. "And so is Chris. Together—"

"Separately or together our children aren't going to talk the Navy into that," Rod said. "Prin—Glenda Ruth, this is silly. You're upsetting your mother. You are not going to New Caledonia."

"I am, yes. I don't want to start a big fight, but really, how can you stop me? In two weeks I'll have my own money." She grinned. "Of course I could marry Freddy . . ."

Sally looked horrified, then laughed. "Serve you right if you did."

"Anyway, I don't have to."

"You've already been accepted at the University," Sally said.

"Yes, and I'll go, but not just now." Glenda Ruth shrugged. "Lots of kids take a
wanderjahre
before starting college. Why not me?"

"All right. Let's be serious," Rod said. "Why?"

Glenda Ruth said, "I'm worried about the Moties."

"Why should you be worried about the Moties?" Sally asked.

"Politics. Growing up in this house, I've seen a lot of politics go past my nose. When the Parliament starts debating the cost of the Blockade Fleet, anything can happen. Anything! Suppose they think it costs too much? They aren't going to just pull the fleet back to New Cal. You know they won't. They'll—" She caught herself.

"They'll what?" Sally asked.

Her voice was no more than a whisper. "They'll send for Kutuzov."

Sally frowned and looked to Rod.

He shrugged. "The Admiral retired long ago. He's pretty old. As old as Bury, I guess. Last I heard he was still active in Saint Ekaterina politics, but he doesn't come here."

"He's organized Mankind First," Glenda Ruth said.

Rod frowned. "I hadn't heard he was behind that group. How sure is this?"

"Freddy told me, but I had a chance to back it up. Sir Radford Bowles spoke for Mankind First at a University of Sparta symposium. Freddy took me. I got in an argument with him at the tea afterward. I watched him. He's picked up some of Admiral Kutuzov's mannerisms."

Rod shook his head, smiling. "I tore the first Motie probe apart, so the Humanity League wanted my hide. Now this Mankind First outfit wants to use Blaine Institute research to wipe out the Moties! I can't win."

"It's not you who can't win," Glenda Ruth said. "It's the Moties who'll lose. And there's no reason."

"There aren't any Moties," Rod said.

"Dad—"

"Not the way you say it. There are plenty of Moties, all right. A planet full of them. More in their Trojan Point clusters and the moons of the gas giant. But there's no single Motie civilization, Glenda Ruth. Never was, never will be. Every Master is independent."

"I know that."

"Sometimes I wonder if you do."

"Dad, I know more about Moties than you do! I've read everything, including your debriefings, and I grew up with Moties."

"Yes. You had the Motie
Mediators
as friends and companions. Sometimes I wonder if that was such a good idea," Rod said. "Your mother didn't like it much."

"I went along," Sally said. "Glenda Ruth, you think you know as much about Moties as we do. Maybe you're right. Maybe you aren't, though. You've only known three of them. Only two at all well. And you want to gamble with the lives of the whole human race—"

"Oh, Mother, stop that. How am I gambling with anything? I can't even get to Mote Prime. Dad knows that."

Rod nodded. "Pretty hard to do. The Blockade Fleet's there as much to keep the Imperial Traders out as to keep the Moties in. You sure won't get to the Mote in Freddy Townsend's yacht."

"Then I can go to New Caledonia?"

"I thought you weren't leaving us any choice."

"Dad, Mom, I'd rather have your blessing."

Rod Blaine asked, "Why?"

"If all else failed, I could come running to you for help. Something could go wrong. I'm not crazy enough to think it couldn't."

"Rod—Rod, is that ship safe?" Sally asked. Glenda Ruth grinned.

The limousine landed on the roof of the Blaine Institute. Three security guards politely helped Bury into his travel chair and escorted him to the elevators. There was no receptionist. As Bury entered the elevator, a guard took out badges and handed them to him and Renner.

So. Formally correct.
Bury wished that Admiral Cziller had come to the meeting. Cziller understood. Bury wasn't sure why, but it was clear. And both Blaine and Renner respected him.

The elevator door opened. Two more uniformed guards ushered them down the hall to the Blaine office suite. There was no one else in the corridor.

The guards opened the doors without knocking.

Both Blaines were present. Bury felt relief.
This is an impossible task, but it would be doubly so without her. Whatever 1 can say to him she can veto. Only Allah can persuade those who will not listen, and He doesn't do that.

Lady Blaine was pouring coffee. She had not spoken to Bury or Renner, and there was no shaking of hands.

The Blaines wore kimono-like garments in strong contrast to the formal tunics Bury and Renner were wearing. Bury had seen clothing similar to those kimonos in the streets of Sparta, and even in restaurants. They were acceptable for receiving guests, but they were neither friendly nor formal.

Bury had never seen Roderick Blaine in short sleeves. Smooth, hairless scar tissue ran from the knuckles up his left arm into the sleeve; and when Bury understood why, he knew he had lost.