Part 4 (1/2)

Before he could ask, a Big Ugly burst from the greenery and rushed toward the vehicle. He was, inevitably, shouting ”Allahu akbar!” ”Allahu akbar!” He carried in his right hand a bottle with a flaming wick. Gorppet had seen those in the SSSR. They were full of petroleum distillates, and could easily set even a landcruiser afire. He carried in his right hand a bottle with a flaming wick. Gorppet had seen those in the SSSR. They were full of petroleum distillates, and could easily set even a landcruiser afire.

Gorppet sprayed the Tosevite with bullets. One of them struck the bottle. It burst and exploded into flame, which caught on the Big Ugly's robes and his flesh. He would have been in greater torment still had Gorppet's bullets-and probably those of other males as well-not toppled him and sent him quickly on the road to death.

Then a grenade flew out of the plants and exploded not far from Gorppet's vehicle. He fired in the direction from which it had come, but couldn't tell whether he'd hit the thrower. Another grenade burst on the far side of the vehicle. ”We are surrounded!” Betvoss shouted in alarm.

If Betvoss could see it, it should have been obvious to anyone. Gorppet yelled into the intercom: ”We had better get out of here while we still can!”

”I have no orders,” the driver answered, which struck Gorppet as not being nearly reason enough to stay. Before he could say as much, the other male added, ”And I will not abandon my comrades without orders.”

That, unfortunately, did make sense to Gorppet. He spotted a shape moving in among the greenery and fired at it. Even through the mechanized combat vehicle's armor, he heard the shriek the Big Ugly let out. He snarled in savage satisfaction.

The vehicle did begin to back away then, which presumably meant the ones behind it in the column had already started retreating. The machine didn't have to go around any burning hulks, for which Gorppet let out a sigh of relief. Smoke dischargers helped s.h.i.+eld the column from the Tosevites' eyes. Before long, all the combat vehicles were speeding northwest along the road to As Samawan. Gorppet wasn't the least bit unhappy to leave that marauding band of Big Uglies behind.

”Praise the spirits of Emperors past, that was not too expensive, anyhow,” Betvoss said. ”All they made us do was change our route.”

”Now we have to hope they have not mined the highway to As Samawan,” Gorppet said. Betvoss laughed, but the squad leader went on, ”I was not joking. They have forced us to do something we did not plan to do. That means we are moving to their plan, not to our own. They will have something waiting for us.”

Again, he proved right. The column had not gone much farther before a mine exploded under the lead combat vehicle. Fortunately, it did no more than blow off a track. The vehicle's crew scrambled out, made hasty repairs, with soldiers and the guns of the rest of the column protecting them, and got moving again. All things considered, it was, as Betvoss had said, an inexpensive journey.

As a shuttlecraft pilot, Nesseref was one of the first females revived from the colonization fleet. That meant she had more experience with Big Uglies than most of the other colonists in the new town outside Jezow, Poland. Despite that experience, she admitted-indeed, she proclaimed, whenever she got the chance-she did not understand the way the minds of the natives of Tosev 3 worked.

”Superior sir, when I began coming into this city, I could not imagine why you treated the Tosevites with such restraint,” she told Bunim, the regional subadministrator based in Lodz. ”Now, having spent a while on the surface of the planet, I begin to see: they are all of them addled, and many of them heavily armed. I can conceive no more appalling combination.”

The male from the conquest fleet answered, ”You may think you are joking, Shuttlecraft Pilot, but that is the problem facing the Race all over Tosev 3. Poland is merely a microcosm of the planet as a whole.”

”In no way was I joking, superior sir,” Nesseref replied. ”The Poles are heavily armed. They hate the Jews, the Deutsche, us, and the Russkis, in that order. The Jews are also heavily armed. They hate the Deutsche, the Poles, the Russkis, and us, in that order. The Deutsche, off to the west, hate the Jews, us, the Russkis, and the Poles, in that order. The Russkis, off to the east, hate the Deutsche, us, the Jews, and the Poles, in that order. The Deutsche and the Russkis, of course, are even more heavily armed than the Jews and Poles. Do I have it all straight?”

”More or less,” Bunim said. ”You will notice, however, that in your list each group of Big Uglies hates some other group of Big Uglies more than it hates us. That is what makes our continued administration of this region possible.”

”Yes, I understand as much,” Nesseref said. ”But I also notice that each group of Big Uglies does hate us. This strikes me as ungrateful on their part, but seems to be so.”

”Truth,” Bunim agreed. ”That is what makes our continued administration of this region difficult. That is what makes our continued administration of this whole planet difficult. Each Tosevite faction-and there are tens upon tens of them-reckons itself superior to all the others. Each resents being administered by anyone but one of its own members. Each also resents being administered by anyone not of the Tosevite species. And, with so many explosive-metal bombs on this planet and orbiting it, we must be cautious in our actions lest we touch off a catastrophe.”

”Madness,” Nesseref said. ”Utter madness.”

”Oh, indeed.” Bunim used an emphatic cough to show just how much madness he thought it was. ”But it is not madness we can afford to disregard. Understanding that fact has often come hard to males and females of the colonization fleet. You show a better grasp of it than most.”

”I thank you, Regional Subadministrator,” Nesseref said. ”Difficulties in finding land for the shuttlecraft port and in dealing with Big Ugly laborers in the construction process have proved most educational.”

”I can see how they would. Everything on Tosev 3 is educational, although some of the lessons are those we would rather not learn.” Bunim paused. ”And you are also acquainted with the Jew Anielewicz, are you not?”

”Yes, superior sir,” Nesseref answered. She also paused before continuing, ”For a Big Ugly, he is quite likable.” She wondered how Bunim would take that; he certainly seemed none too fond of any of the Tosevites whose territory he helped govern.

To her surprise, the regional subadministrator said, ”Truth.” But Bunim went on, ”He is very clever, he is very capable, he is very dangerous. He plays us off against the Deutsche, the Poles, and the Russkis, and plays those groups off against one another. His own group should be the weakest among them, but I am not nearly sure it is-and if it is not, that is largely thanks to his abilities.”

”Many Tosevites, I gather, are able,” Nesseref said. ”Your experience is greater than mine, but I would say as many Tosevites are as able as are members of the Race.”

”Yes, I would say that is probably a truth,” Bunim agreed. ”We would have an easier time on this planet were it a falsehood.” He let out a long, heartfelt sigh.

”No doubt,” Nesseref said. ”Many Big Uglies are able, as I say. But few are, or can make themselves be, congenial to us. Anielewicz is one of those who can. I count him a friend of sorts, even if he is not of our species-certainly more of a friend than an accursed male who sought to give me ginger to induce me to mate with him.”

”I sometimes think ginger is the revenge Tosev 3 is taking on the Race for our efforts to bring this world into the Empire,” Bunim said wearily. ”In some ways, the herb causes us more trouble than the Big Uglies do.”

”Truth,” Nesseref said, with an emphatic cough. She'd tried ginger once herself, before the Race fully understood what it did to females. She'd gone straight into her season, of course, and mated with a couple of Bunim's sentries. Only luck that she hadn't laid a clutch of eggs afterwards. And only luck-luck and a strong, strong will-that the one taste hadn't led to addiction, as it had for so many males and females.

Bunim went on, ”I also note that, however congenial you may find Anielewicz, by no means do all of his fellow Tosevites share your opinion. He was recently the target of an a.s.sa.s.sination attempt by one of the Big Ugly groupings with no great use for Jews. I am not certain which, but there is no shortage of such groups. You have shown you understand as much.”

”Yes.” Nesseref did her best to hold in surprise and dismay. Murder, especially political murder, was rare among the Race. She supposed she shouldn't have been shocked to learn it was otherwise here on Tosev 3, but she was. ”An attempt, you say, superior sir? Was he injured?”

”No. Apparently fearing someone might be seeking to attack him, he dropped to the floor an instant before the a.s.sailant fired through the door of his flat. Whoever that a.s.sailant was, he escaped.”

”I am relieved to hear Anielewicz was not harmed,” Nesseref said.

”So was I,” the regional subadministrator answered. ”You cannot imagine the chaos into which a successful a.s.sa.s.sination would have thrown this area. I very likely cannot imagine it, either, and I am glad I do not have to.”

He cared only about the politics involved, not about Anielewicz as an individual. Nesseref supposed she understood that. Bunim would have to go on dealing with whoever Anielewicz's successor proved to be had the Jew been killed. Still, the att.i.tude saddened her. She returned to her own immediate business: ”I do thank you for expediting inspections of the liquid-hydrogen storage system at the shuttlecraft port. An accident would be unfortunate.”

”Truth.” Bunim looked at her sidelong. ”You have a gift for understatement, Shuttlecraft Pilot.”

”I thank you,” Nesseref answered. ”I would be less concerned had the Race done all the construction. But, even with the Tosevites working to our specifications, I want every possible a.s.surance that they did the job properly.”

”I understand. I shall see to it.” Bunim turned one eye turret toward a chronometer. ”And now, if you will excuse me, I also have other things to see to....”

”Of course, superior sir.” Nesseref left Bunim's office, and also left the building housing it. Having been in the hands of the Race since shortly after the arrival of the conquest fleet, it suited her kind about as well as a building originally put up by Big Uglies could. When she went outside, into the cold of the Bialut Market Square, she found herself back in a different world.

Even Tosevites had to wear layer upon layer of wrappings to protect themselves from their own planet's weather. That didn't deter them from gathering in large numbers to buy and sell. Foods of all sorts were on display (no, almost all sorts, for this was a market full of Jews, and so held no pork, which was to Nesseref's way of thinking most regrettable). So were more of the Big Uglies' wrappings. So were pots and pans and plates and the curious implements the Tosevites used to feed themselves.

And so were a good many items obviously manufactured by the Race. Nesseref wondered how they'd got there. She wouldn't have been the least bit surprised to learn it was through no legitimate means. The window in Bunim's office overlooked the market square. She wondered if the regional subadministrator or his subordinates paid any attention to the commerce the Big Uglies were conducting right under their snouts. Then she wondered if the Tosevites quietly paid some of those subordinates-with ginger, say-to turn their eye turrets in a different direction. She wouldn't have been surprised about that, either.

Big Uglies were more voluble than males and females of the Race. They shouted and whined and gesticulated and generally acted as if the world would come to an end if bargains didn't come out exactly the way they wanted them. Their frantic eagerness would have impressed and probably influenced Nesseref. The Tosevites against whom they were d.i.c.kering, though, were used to such ploys, and took no notice of them-or else they too were shouting and whining and gesticulating.

Someone-a Big Ugly, by the timbre and mushy accent-called her name. She swung an eye turret in the direction from which the sound had struck her hearing diaphragm, and saw a Tosevite approaching, waving as he-she? no, he, by the wrappings and the voice-drew near. A little more slowly than she should have, she recognized him. ”I greet you, Mordechai Anielewicz,” she said, annoyed he'd seen and known her first.

”I greet you, Shuttlecraft Pilot,” the Big Ugly said, extending his right hand in the greeting gesture common among his kind. Nesseref took it. His fingers, though large, felt soft and fleshy against hers. They also felt cool; her body temperature was a couple of hundredths higher than his. Speaking the language of the Race pretty well for one of his kind, he went on, ”I hope you are well?”

”Well enough, I thank you, though I do not much care for the cold and damp. I am glad spring is coming,” Nesseref replied. She wagged the eye turret with which she was looking at him, as she might have done to commiserate with one of her own kind. ”I have heard from the regional subadministrator that you are having a difficult time of it.”

”Why, no, the pains are no worse than-” Anielewicz caught himself. ”Oh. You must mean the male with the gun. He missed me. He has not returned since. I do not worry about him... too much.” His hand dropped to the b.u.t.t of the pistol he wore on his hip.

”Who would wish to kill you?” Nesseref asked.

The Big Ugly's mouth twisted in the gesture Nesseref had come to a.s.sociate with amus.e.m.e.nt, though she didn't understand why the circ.u.mstances should amuse him. ”Who?” he said. ”The Deutsche, the Poles, the Russkis, perhaps, and perhaps also the regional subadministrator.”

”Bunim?” Nesseref made the negative hand gesture. ”Impossible! The Race does not do such things. Besides, he would have mentioned it to me. He spoke of its happening through some agency other than his own.”