Part 9 (2/2)
Merced nodded. ”I know of a couple which prob- ably could, no matter how advanced the orbital scan- ning system.”
”For example?”
Merced squirmed uncomfortably, aware he was very much the center of attention. ”As I said, it's a hobby. Now, I'm not positive about this, but I've heard that the Commonwealth armed forces have access to devices which can affect the interatomic bonds of elements. The explosive result would be very much like the destruction you've described, Sam. The device could be adjusted far more rapidly than a subsonic projector and would be unlikely to set off a town's warning system, which, I presume, would be directed to keep an eye out for much more conventional weaponry.”
”Some of them aren't even equipped to detect that,” their pilot admitted. ”Our primary source of danger on Cachalot has always been inimical local
life-forms, not other people.” He looked unhappy.
”By this world's nature, by the way the population is concentrated yet dispersed, we have to maintain a peaceful society.
”Oh, we have our occasional troublemakers, but we've never, never experienced anything on this scale of ma.s.s murder. The local peaceforcers have always been able to cope. Our problems run more along the line of drunken brawls or jealous husbands. And there are some who become frustrated because they're un- able to adapt to our world and our ways. But frus- trated enough to organize and commit wholesale slaughter? I doubt it.”
”If we rule out human or off-world attack,” Cora declared in measured tones, ”that leaves something from the sea.”
”That's your department. That's why you've been brought in. Human or other intelligent a.s.sailants will be dealt with by the peaceforcers, but . . . well, the Commonwealth has had people on Cachalot for over four hundred years and the original settlers for four or five hundred years before that, and we're still com- paratively ignorant about the local denizens.”
”That's nothing new,” Cora said. ”There's still much we don't know about life in Earth's oceans. You needn't apologize.”
”I wasn't apologizing,” Sam said matter-of-factiy.
”I'm not the apologetic type.”
”Well, we can rule out the storms as direct causes,”
Merced allowed. ”I don't know about you ladies, but I personally am not ready to deal with human attackers. All we could do is determine that they ' were the likely cause of the trouble.”
”That would be sufficient,” Mataroreva told him.
”You're not here to provide final solutions. Only to determine causes.”
Odd thing for him to say, Cora mused. Oddly de-
44 CACHALOT.
finitive. ”Sam, you've never told us exactly what it is that you do.”
”That's true,” Merced agreed. ”Are you attached to the scientific community here, or are you independent, or what?”
”Neither,” Sam finally confessed, with that same easy smile. ”I'm a government employee.”
”Communications.” Cora snapped her fingers. ”That why you were sent to greet us.”
”Not exactly, Cora. Communications is only a part of my job. All that talk about less-than-benign human agencies at work on this world is taken quite seriously by the government as well as by local authorities. I gave you my name, but not my t.i.tle.” He used his free left hand to turn down a blank section of his belt.
Cora saw a radiant olive branch glowing on a circular blue field. Beneath the olive branch was a pair of tiny, glowing gold bars.
”It's Captain Sam Mataroreva, actually. I'm the commander of the peaceforcer contingent on this world. My primary task wasn't to greet you. It was to protect you.”
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