Part 3 (1/2)
They rose and walked to the entrance. September's finger continued to point until Ethan spotted the spy-eye in the ceiling.
”Then he's been listening to and watching us the whole time?”
”Naturally, feller-me-lad. What do you expect from a good politician?”
The pyramid building had three sides, the room they entered three corners and walls. Both exterior walls were perfectly transparent, providing a sweeping and by now familiar view of the harbor and the city of Arsudun backed against uneven, white-clad hills. Be-tween hills and harbor the steep-roofed houses looked like a vast spill of gray paint.
Much to Ethan's surprise, the usual desk was ab-sent from the room's furnis.h.i.+ngs. Several large couches in freeform design were positioned around the three-sided chamber. Each was covered in a different variety of local fur. Without knowing anything about their durability, Ethan tried to estimate their worth on the open market based on color and thickness alone. It was substantial. Any life-supporting world as cold as Tran-ky-ky was bound to produce some extraordin-ary furbearing creatures. The treated skins in the room gave ample proof of riches no synthetics could match.
”I'm Jobius Trell,” the room's sole inhabit-ant told them, moving to shake his visitor's hands in turn. He was tall, quite tall, standing midway in height between Ethan and September. His mouth seemed po-sitioned naturally and permanently in a gentle, almost boyish grin. That saved him the necessity of worrying about when to smile in ticklish situations. Blue eyes, a square face, small if unlikely dimpled chin, and thick gray hair combed straight back. Ethan estimated his weight at around a hundred kilos, distributed on the build of an ordinary athlete. That is, one blessed with no athletic ability other than what was provided by more than usual size and weight, coupled with average coordination.
Between the Commissioner and September, Ethan felt dwarfed in the room. A gesture directed the visitors to one couch. Trell took the recliner opposite. Ethan could now pick out numerous controls and devices, even thick tape files, set cleverly into the furniture.
A casual wave at September, and Trell spoke. ”You noticed my small preview eye, Mr. September.
Have you been familiar with espionage work and equipment in the past?”
”Nope. But I've been in the offices of a lot of politicians.”
The Commissioner not only didn't take offense, his laugh sounded quite genuine. ”So there's a sense of humor floating around inside that enormous frame of yours. Good. Let's see if I can save us some time.” Leaning back into the couch, he ticked off points on his fingers as he talked.
”One: I've already heard the report you gave the postmaster, so I know everything you've told him.
Rest a.s.sured I agree with him completely on expediting your pa.s.sage off this world. After what you've been through, it's the very least I, as Resident Common-wealth representative, can do. You must've had a ter-rible time of it among the primitives.”
”Not as terrible as everyone seems to think.” Sep-tember spoke easily, inviting challenge.
Trell chose not to accept, or perhaps didn't per-ceive the giant's comment as challenging. ”Two, that s.h.i.+p you arrived in. I've had tapes made, solidos formed. Quite a piece of engineering.” His voice al-tered, became slightly more intense as he inquired, ”Where did the natives get the duralloy for five runners of that size? Surely the locals haven't mastered nuclear metallurgy somewhere out in the snow?”
”No.” Ethan explained. ”They cut them as best they could, with our help, from the hull of our wrecked lifeboat.”
That apparently satisfied Trell. ”I suspected some-thing like that. While our Commonwealth charges here aren't stupid, they're much longer on muscle than brains.”
”Yes, that's true,” said September.
Ethan shook inside. Instead of the expected protest at this slur on their friends, September had reacted with agreement and a beatific smile.
He thought furiously. Since September did nothing without good reason, it followed that he had one for concurring with the Commissioner. As Trell nodded in response, he saw that the Commissioner had been wait-ing for precisely the answer the big man had given him. But if their purpose in coming here was to convince the Commissioner that the Tran were worthy of a.s.sociate Commonwealth status, they weren't off to a very good beginning.
Or were they? Come to think of it, reacting emo-tionally instead of with reason would be the worst way to get the Commissioner on their side. ”Longer on muscle than brains, but not stupid”, was an evalua-tion of the Tran with which Sir Hunnar himself might readily have agreed.
”Native affairs, you mentioned?” Trell looked at Ethan.
He rose. ”We spent quite a number of months among them, sir.” Pacing the plushly carpeted room, he felt himself relax. As always, he was most at ease when punching a product he believed in. He believed in the Tran.
”Environment and ecology have conspired against the natives, sir. They're widely dispersed, forced to cling to scattered, often barely accessible islands for survival. While they've adapted well to this harsh climate, their numbers don't seem to be great. I don't know why, but they aren't as numerous as they should be. That also works to their disadvantage.
”And yet,” he continued enthusiastically, ”Consid-ering their extreme climate they've not only staved off extinction, but have advanced to a fair level of civili-zation. Their technology is unusually advanced in cer-tain areas, such as ices.h.i.+p building and cold weather farming. Races inhabiting more pleasant worlds have not done as well”
”I agree with you.” Ethan stopped pacing, aston-ished. First Trell described the Tran as having more muscle than brains, and now he was all but concurring with Ethan's optimistic a.s.sessment of their accomplish-ments.
”Well then?”
”Well then what, Mr. Fortune?” Trell was watch-ing him closely.
Ethan was forced to discard all the arguments he had mustered mentally to build a case for the Tran's abili-ties and jump ahead. ”If you agree with my a.s.sessment, sir, consider the benefits to this world of a.s.sociate Com-monwealth members.h.i.+p. They could send delegates to Council as observers. They'd learn a great deal and would be eligible for all kinds of government a.s.sist-ance for which they presently can't qualify. That would raise the planetary standard of living, which in turn would?”
Trell raised a hand, and Ethan stopped short. ”Please, Mr. Fortune.” The Commissioner's gaze switched from Ethan to September, then back again. ”Don't you two realize that I would have been working for that very thing myself? Despite the natives' obvious drawbacks, I admire them very much.”
He gestured at his office.
”Look around you. I work here, relax here. Every item in this room not of an electronic nature is of local manufacture. The couches and chairs you rest upon, the decorative arts on walls and tables, everything. Personally I would enjoy nothing better than nominat-ing my charges here for a.s.sociate status.
But,” and he shook an admonis.h.i.+ng finger at Ethan, ”though I agree with you where the locals' scientific and artistic progress is concerned, let us objectively consider their handi-caps. Social progress has lagged far, far behind every-thing else here.” He stood, unconsciously exchanging pacing territory with Ethan, who resumed his seat. Except that Trell moved straight to the nearest window-wall and stared out over town and harbor.
”_You_ wish the Tran to have a.s.sociate Commonwealth status. _I_ wish them to have it.” He glanced back over a shoulder. ”Which Tran, Mr. Fortune, do you refer to?”
Ethan started to reply, found his thoughts tangled by facts, and said nothing. September stared at him, silent and unhelpful?
*III*
”I see the problem has struck home.” Trell turned from the window and the view beyond. ”Arsudun was chosen to be the site of the Commonwealth outpost here because it was one of the larger islands located by first survey, and because it has a protected harbor which helps s.h.i.+eld us here from the stronger winds off the ice ocean. However, further surveys could, I am certain, turn up forty other locations of equivalent suit-ability for Bra.s.s Monkey. Arsudun was lucky, not superior.
”Tell me? would it be fair to your friends from-?”
”From Sofold,” September told him.
”From Sofold. Would it be fair to them if all the delegates from Tran-ky-ky to Council were to be elected or appointed from Arsudun?”
”Of course not,” Ethan put in immediately. ”All would vote and-” His voice trailed off.
Trell slumped back into his couch across from them. ”Vote, Mr. Fortune? I don't know if there's a word in the Tran dialects for voting.”
”They elect Landgraves from time to time,” Ethan countered.
”Yes. When the offspring of former rulers are un-acceptable. But you have a point, if what you say is true. I myself have never ventured from Arsudun. But if the sociologists who go out with the scouting parties are agreed on anything, it's the Tran's unwavering suspicion of his neighbor. They are belligerent and jingoistic.” He shook his head slowly.
”No. I'm sorry, Mr. Fortune. If the Tran are to claim a.s.sociate status in the Commonwealth, they must present such a claim in some united fas.h.i.+on. There is no planetary government to deal with here. In fact,”
he leaned forward, spoke with seeming excitement, ”I won't even require that. A dominant re-gional government would be sufficient, one comprised of a fairly diverse population and reasonable number of city-states. If that existed, then many of these other futile feudal states would fall into line. But you're not going to find any such organization on this world. You're just not.
”Hostility is a way of life on Tran-ky-ky. Not only don't the inhabitants of one state care a k'nith's hind-quarters for their neighbors, what about these nomadic warrior groups?”
”We know about them,” Ethan admitted, thinking back to the siege of Sofold by the horde of Sagyanak the Death in which he and September and the others had partic.i.p.ated in the destruction of that ancient enemy of Hunnar's people.