CHAPTER 39

Stepping down from the shuttle, Bleys found himself on the resilient surface of a very small landing pad. Its edges were outlined by snow that was falling beyond its weather-control field; which told him they were now near one of the warm planet's poles.

From one side a vehicle was approaching, its passage raising a cloud as it skimmed above the surface of the loose, new-fallen snow; and as Bleys watched, it passed through the weather curtain and onto the pad, heading directly, and silently, for him. As it drew up, a door opened; and as he moved toward it, he could see that the vehicle's surface was wet; snow that had accumulated on its back deck was beginning to slide off in clumps, as its bottom layers thawed down to water faster than the upper layers, providing a lubricating effect.

Twenty minutes later the vehicle moved out of a stand of bare, snow-caked trees to pass through another weather barrier and draw up before a grass-surfaced ramp that sloped gently up to a place where a shadowy wall had apparently been cut into the side of a small hill. The hill itself was crowned with more snow-laden trees, and a small, conical tower of a sandstone color stuck up from behind them.

Two figures appeared out of the shadowed cut in the hillside and began moving down the ramp. Bleys recognized the smaller one as Nonne, the Exotic he had spoken to earlier. She was now dressed in a green set of the robes that were what most of the Younger Worlds believed Exotics wore all the time.

Bleys climbed out of the vehicle and walked to the ramp, to meet the figures moving toward him. The grassy surface was smooth and soft, comfortable to walk on, and it provided all the traction he needed, despite its upward grade.

The taller figure moving toward him was also female, an unusual-looking woman with copper-colored skin and a shaven skull. Her robes were light blue in color, and to Bleys' unpracticed eye they appeared to be draped on her form in a different manner than those worn by Nonne; but he could not tell if the differences had any meaning.

"Welcome, Bleys Ahrens," Nonne said, stopping at a distance of almost two meters in front of Bleys. He took an extra step, and then stopped also.

"My companion is Sulaya," Nonne went on. "She'll be your guide, if that suits you—I'm afraid I have other duties."

"I'm honored," Bleys said, speaking to Nonne but looking at Sulaya. "It was good of you to meet me."

While he spoke Nonne was turning, to stride swiftly up the ramp and through the shadow-wall. Bleys and Sulaya, after another brief, polite exchange, followed her more slowly.

Bleys was led through the shadow-wall, which he found to be some kind of pressure barrier, and beyond it, down several long passageways, to a kind of patio. Unless his direction-sense had been scrambled somehow, he was sure he was still under the hill, but the patio seemed to open on the edge of a snowbound glade. Bright light poured out of a sky from which the snow clouds had drawn off; it made tiny diamond-like sparkles dance out of the crystals of the snow on the ground.

And yet, seated on the cushioned bench he had been shown to, Bleys felt comfortably warm. A gentle breeze breathed on his face, carrying with it a faint scent like some mild spice. Sulaya sat quietly nearby, perched atop what seemed to be a lichen-speckled stone wall. The entire patio before him and to his sides was filled with stone walls of varying heights, that bent and turned about him as if he were in the center of a maze. . . . When he found his eyes making the same circular scan of their top surfaces for the fourth time, he pulled his gaze away.

Catching a slight movement out of the corner of an eye, Bleys turned in time to see a drinking vessel, apparently of gray glass, rise out of one arm of the bench. It contained apple juice, he discovered.

Discounting his initial suspicions, he took a long drink of the cool, sweet fluid; and realized, when he lowered the glass, that two more people had moved into his line of sight—it seemed almost as if they had popped into being in front of him.

One was a woman of medium height, with bronze skin and curly brown hair, wearing a honey-colored robe; Bleys found her age difficult to estimate. She gave him a welcoming smile, but said nothing while Bleys looked at her companion, a man who seemed to hold his attention without word or motion.

This man was more than elderly, Bleys realized; in fact, he was quite probably the oldest person Bleys had ever seen. His skin seemed relatively unwrinkled, but there was a stillness in his face above the amber-colored robes, and something about the way he held himself....

"We are pleased to have you here, Bleys Ahrens," the bronze-skinned woman said now, somewhat formally, as Bleys rose to his feet. She nodded slightly as she spoke, and her face became more serious, although she maintained a gentle smile. "My name is Chavis."

She turned slightly, gesturing with a flowing movement of her left arm in the direction of her older companion.

"And this is Padma, the InBond."

InBond No one really understands the offices the Exotics give each other, but that's one I haven’t heard before.

"I'm honored to meet you," Bleys said, as the elderly Exotic bowed, very slightly, in his direction. Padma's eyes stayed on Bleys' face, but he said nothing.

The silence continued for a long moment, and as the three sets of Exotic eyes watched him, Bleys found himself becoming a little uncomfortable. He covered it by taking another drink; but in a moment the glass was empty.

"Would you like some more?" Chavis asked as Bleys turned to put it down.

"No, thank you," he said. "But is there something you'd like?"

"There may be," Padma said. His voice was hoarse and low, the oldest thing about him. He paused to clear his throat lightly, even as a glass of water rose out of the bench's arm. Bleys reached back for it and handed it to the older Exotic.

"Would you like to sit?" he asked, gesturing behind him at the bench.

"No," Padma said, after taking a sip of the water. "Thank you, but I think we won't be here long."

"Then we should get to whatever you wanted to ask me," Bleys said.

"That is sensible," Padma said, a smile coming to his face. "Would you be willing to give us twelve days of your time?" "Twelve days?" Bleys said, startled.

"We here on the Exotics have spent generations in the study of human evolution," Chavis explained. "We'd like to measure you."

Bleys, suddenly conscious of how he towered over the two Exotics, looked down at Padma.

"You want data on me," he said. "And on my abilities."

"That's one way to describe it," Padma said. "We're always looking for signs of improvements in the race."

"To what point?" Bleys said. "There's no future in your work— surely you all know that by now."

"It may be," Padma said. Again he smiled, gently. "But one might ask whether there is a future in any work."

"That's the kind of philosophical speculation I prefer to avoid," Bleys said. "You must be aware of the futility of that line of thought." He paused; and after a brief moment, smiled.

"Unless, of course, you're already testing me."

"We were sure you would not agree," Padma said. "But regardless of what you think of our work, we believe it has value. And that it will continue to have value in the future."

"If there is a future," Bleys said.

Padma smiled again, almost shyly; but he said nothing.

Bleys, looking down into the eyes that watched him so alertly, realized he had totally forgotten that the man before him was small and old. He found himself wondering if there might be some way to sit with this man and discuss—and at that moment, a chime sounded softly out of the air.

"The gathering is almost in place," Chavis said, "and Hal Mayne has arrived. Do you still wish to address us?"

"I do," Bleys said. He had not had a chance to ask what the subject of the gathering might be, he realized; but he shrugged, mentally, willing to deal with whatever came.

"Then come with us," Chavis said.

Moving slowly out of deference to Padma's age, Chavis led them all back out of the glade, through a door and down a short hall. When they came to a set of double doors of a black wood, Sulaya stayed behind while the rest of them passed through.

Bleys found himself standing near what appeared to be the main stage of a small amphitheater, but he had no time to look about as the two Exotics led him up onto the stage and across it, to the place at its center-front where light seemed to focus out of nowhere. The light, although bright, was not uncomfortable, but Bleys found himself unable to focus on the audience, already in place but extraordinarily quiet. His first estimate told him there were possibly two hundred faces looking up, across, and down at him—and yet, when he tried to pick out a single face with which to make eye contact, his vision seemed to blur, and he felt as if the faces on each side of the one he was looking into became dozens of faces, hundreds of faces, looking back at him across a distance that was impossible within this small theater.

With that realization, he knew he was in the middle of another piece of the Exotics' advanced technology, and that this room must be large enough to require the operation of some sort of telescopic effect. He wondered if the effect worked in both directions, and if his audience could also see him as if at a short distance.

"Hal Mayne is on his way," Padma said. His voice, still hoarse, now carried a weight of years, and there was no smile on his face. Chavis, Bleys saw, had vanished somewhere.

"How many people are here?" Bleys asked.

"Almost everyone is here," Padma said; but before Bleys could question what that cryptic statement meant, there was a sound off to his side; and he turned to sec Hal Mayne moving toward him across the stage, accompanied by a small, wrinkled Exotic in a light gray robe.

Hal Mayne loomed like a mountain over his companion, and was obviously measuring his steps to avoid outpacing his guide. He wore a short jacket over rough, dark-gray ship's coveralls; and for a moment Bleys felt overdressed in his tailored gray jacket and narrow-legged dark gray trousers.

Bleys wondered if Hal Mayne had a similar reaction at the sight of Bleys towering over Padma; he started to look sideways at the elderly Exotic ... and in that moment Hal was right there in front of him, looking him straight in the eyes, and Bleys realized he didn't know what to say to this man.

"Hal Mayne would prefer that Bleys Ahrens speaks first," said the unnamed small Exotic.

"Of course," Bleys murmured. He was dismayed to find he was once more feeling the tiredness that had come over him after their last meeting, in the Final Encyclopedia. He felt as if he were being left out of something, something he would have liked to belong to.... He turned his face away from Hal, to appear to be looking out across the amphitheater.

"I'll leave you to it, then," Hal said; and he turned and led the elderly Exotics back off the side of the platform, where they seemed to vanish into the darkness.

Alone on the bare black stage, Bleys battled despair, wondering how he could reach this audience of aliens that waited so silently before him ... he could not seem to make eye contact with any of them, could not seem to feel them . . . and he still did not know the purpose of this gathering.

They're here to listen to Hal Mayne, he reminded himself. They must be about to make some sort of decision.

He made himself take a moment to control his breathing.

You never expected to win them over, anyway, so what've you got to lose?

He squared up his stance, and spread his arms wide to his sides, at shoulder height.

"Will you listen to me?" he asked "For a few moments only, will you listen to me—without preconceptions, without already existing opinions, as if I were a petitioner at your gates whom you'd never heard before?"

Still there was no reaction, but he dropped his arms slowly to his sides, as if they had agreed to his plea.

"It's painful, I know," he said. He spoke slowly, measuring his words out a syllabic at a time, as if that would somehow drive them through the wall of distance he felt before him.

"Always, it is painful when times change; when everything we've come to take for granted has to be reexamined. All at once, our firmest and our most cherished beliefs have to be pulled out by the roots, out of those very places where we'd always expected them to stand forever, and subjected to the same sort of remorseless scrutiny we'd give to the newest and wildest of our theories or thoughts."

He paused, to move his gaze about the amphitheater as if trying to look into every eye.

"Yes, it's painful," he said; but he allowed no sad note in his voice. He wanted to be all of History speaking to them. He wanted to be Authority.

"But we all know it happens. We all have to face that sort of self-reexamination, sooner or later. But of all peoples, those I'd have expected to face this task the best would have been the people of Mara and Kultis."

He tried then to raise his voice in exortation, as if he were one of the gifted preachers he had heard so often on Association, calling them to redemption.

"Haven't you given your lives, and the lives of all your generations, to that principle, ever since you ceased to call yourselves the Chantry Guild and came here to these Exotic Worlds, searching for the future of humankind? Not just searching toward that future by ways you found pleasant and palatable, but by all the ways to it you could find, agreeable or not? Isn't that so?"

Now he glared at them, as if defying them to argue with him— with someone they had to know was correct about everything. .. .

"You've grown into the two worlds of people who dominated the economies of all the inhabited worlds—so that you wouldn't have to spare time from your search to struggle for a living. You've bought and sold armies so that you'd be free of fighting, and of all the emotional commitment that's involved in it—all so you'd have the best possible conditions to continue your work, your search.

"Now, after all those many years of putting that search first, you seem ready to put it in second place to a taking of sides, in a transient, present-day dispute. I tell you frankly—because by inheritance I'm one of you, as I think you know—that even if it should be the side I find myself on that you wish to join, at the expense of your long struggle to bring about humanity's future, I'd still stand here as I do now, and ask you to think again of what you have to lose by doing so."

He stopped, trying again to focus on his audience; but their faces continued to elude his attempts to hold them with his eyes. He could find no reaction out there....

There was no sound for the long moment in which he waited; until finally he stepped backward, as if dismissing them; and stood in place for a moment more.

"That's all that I've come here to say to you," he said at last. He felt deflated. "That's all there is. The rest, the decision, I leave to you.

He stood there for a moment longer, silent, still waiting for them to react... he knew it was futile, but he could not help it—he needed some sign from them.

But there was nothing; and at last he turned and walked off the platform.

Once out of the light, he could see that Hal Mayne, Padma and the other tiny Exotic were awaiting him, standing before a group of chairs. But nothing had changed.

"I'd like to speak privately to these people," Hal said as Bleys reached them.

That s it then, Bleys told himself.

He made himself smile, and nodded. He let himself be led away by the elderly Exotic who had been Hal Mayne's guide, who seemed to scurry now to keep up with the long strides Bleys found himself using. Bleys forced himself to slow down, so as not to seem to be running away; and in a moment he was through the doors and had been turned over to Sulaya again, who led him away.

CHAPTER 40

"I was never actually told what the meeting was about," Bleys, back on Association, said, "but the fact they were waiting for Hal Mayne to come back and speak to them tells me they were listening to some plan of his. I think he was off the planet dealing with the Dorsai. I think he's persuaded them to come to Mara to defend the Exotics against us."

"The fact they were waiting for him doesn't mean the Exotics agreed to his plan," she said.

"By itself, no," Bleys said. "But I think the Exotics I met had already decided. It was in their eyes, and their attitudes. It's the only possibility that fits the intelligence that's been telling us the Dorsai have been bringing their ships and people back to their planet— they can only be preparing for some large move."

"You were on Mara and dealt with those people," she said, "so I can't argue with you about that. But I find it hard to believe the Dorsai would make a move that would leave their own planet defenseless ... although it's true they have a myth about defending it with women and children."

"It's the only thing that makes sense," Bleys said. "They wouldn't be gathering their assets if they weren't planning major action. I don't think it can be a coincidence that while they've been gathering, the Exotics have been moving their own wealth, ships, and mobile technological resources—even many of their most important experts; and it's no coincidence they held that meeting on Mara. So what else makes sense?"

"I can believe the Dorsai are planning something," she said. "But the only reason to think they're going to Mara are a few reports of a rumor among the Exotics to that effect. It could be wrong."

"The Dorsai can only go to a planet that wants them," Bleys said. "Remember when I said that to fight, they need a place to stand on? The only planets that might want them are planets that think they're in military danger—that can only be the Exotics."

"Why not Old Earth?"

"Old Earth doesn't think it's in any danger," Bleys said. "The Final Encyclopedia and Hal Mayne know better, but they haven't even tried to convince Old Earth yet, even though Dahno's people have been working there to stir up dissension. It would be the worst possible move for Mayne—nothing would alienate Earth-men more than five million Dorsai showing up uninvited on their doorstep."

He turned away and moved toward his desk.

"In the end it really doesn't matter," he said. "No matter where the Dorsai go, they'll have to sit in their defenses and wait for us to come. Even if they want to come out and attack us on nine worlds, there just aren't enough of them; they'd be worn down by attrition." He activated his screen.

"This gives us a chance to make a move they won't be expecting," he said.

"You were already sure war was coming," Toni said; "how much has the situation changed?"

"I figured it might well get down to war," Bleys said, absentmindedly correcting her as he inserted a chip he had brought with him from the ship. "Eventually. I thought it was some time off and we'd have ample time to get ourselves ready while Hal Mayne struggled to get his side organized." He looked up at her.

"Hal Mayne now has the Exotics working with him, the Final Encyclopedia behind him—and the Dorsai up to something... I think we can expect action sooner rather than later."

He touched a control, and his eyes turned again to his screen.

"There's an opportunity here to do something Mayne and his friends could never expect," he said. "I spent the trip back drawing up plans to speed our mobilization—I still want to keep it undercover, to avoid raising any more alarms on Old Earth than we have to. But we have a lot to do: we need to find ways to get more information about how Old Earth is likely to react when the Dorsai make their move—and on what the Exotics and the Dorsai are planning." He looked at her again.

"I'm going to be sending messages right away to our people on all the Younger Worlds, and I'll be following up with personal visits. I'd like you to find out how to get the messages to those Worlds as quickly as possible; when that's done, set up a new trip . . . think about what needs to be done to have four or five courier ships along. I want to start with New Earth."

"Are those Soldiers Henry sent still on Old Earth?" Bleys asked, two hours later.

"I think so," Toni said. "Henry didn't want to call them back until he'd heard from you."

"Leave them there," Bleys said. "We'll want to have them monitoring public opinion on the planet and reporting back."

"That's not exactly the sort of thing the Soldiers are good at," she pointed out. "Most of them there aren't intelligence specialists."

"Maybe we should send a few intelligence people to join them, then," Bleys said. "I know John Colville's there; he's got a good head on his shoulders and would be a good choice to lead the effort."

"I was about to point out that the non-specialists might be able to see things the specialists miss," Toni said. "They're more like average people in the way they look at things."

"Why don't you ask Henry for his suggestions?" Bleys said. "But don't forget I want to get off on this trip right away."

The sky was gray when Bleys climbed out of the armored limousine in which he had ridden to his appointment with Hammer Martin and three of Freiland's top political leaders. The vehicles that had escorted his were now hovering around him, trying to create a wall between Bleys and the crowd of workers lining the edges of the factory's parking lot. Those workers seemed to be yelling, but Bleys could not make out any words.

"This way, Great Teacher," a voice said from behind Bleys. He turned, to see Maryam Kors, one of Martin's staff. She had a portable weather shield ready, in case the cold rain returned; there were puddles on the ground, and the cold wind suggested more weather might be coming in.

Bleys had not been cold very often in his life, but this was a time when he could wish he had worn a thick coat—but then, he had worn his red-lined cape precisely because of its usefulness in helping him capture the attention of his audiences; that was more important than personal comfort.

"Hammer, it's good to see you," Bleys said, as the senior Other on Freiland came walking to meet him.

"Great Teacher, we're all so glad you could come," Hammer said. He half-turned to indicate the crowd of people—over a dozen, Bleys thought—who had straggled behind him. "Let me introduce Thorbjorn Holder, President of the Freiland State—"

The President was tall and thin, and his long, nearly white hair was blowing in the cold breeze. He leaned forward eagerly, smiling broadly, and put out both hands to clasp the one Bleys extended.

"So pleased to meet you, Great Teacher! I've been listening to your talks for years . .. oh, allow me to present my wife...."

It was going to be a long afternoon, Bleys thought. He had already lost count of how many times he had been dragged out to visit munitions factories, vehicle assembly lines, spaceship fitting yards....

Its necessary, he reminded himself.

"It's tricky."

Back on New Earth for the third time in two months, Bleys and Toni were waiting in the lounge of their suite for the arrival of Marshal Cuslow Damar, whose Friendly troops had been effectively in control of the planet for several years now.

"The Marshal's convoy is driving up," Toni said. She had just received that news from the staff lower in the hotel, who communicated with Bleys through her. "What's tricky?"

"Trying to get the Younger Worlds ready for a war that will have to involve Old Earth, without arousing the mother planet herself,"

Bleys said. "You've seen the reports that Rukh Tamani's shown up there. She can only be there to drum up opposition to us."

"What about our own people?" Toni asked. "Whatever Dahno may be up to, by all reports his people have continued pushing divisions in the populace."

"Old Earth may be in for a war of preachers," Bleys said. "I can't say who's likely to win."

"But Dahno's people have the persuasive abilities you've taught them," she said.

"That he taught them," Bleys said. "Some of them, yes. But John Colville's reports suggest Rukh Tamani has a similar ability. He's been following her about, listening to her, and she's apparently a spellbinder."

"She had that reputation on Harmony," Toni said. "Could she counter Dahno's work?"

"We never needed our people on Old Earth to convince Earth-men to join us," Bleys said. "All we need is for them to continue divided over how to react to us. Most of them were unnoticing and uncaring when Dahno's campaign started, and those who cared were divided. I don't see that changing."

"Even if Tamani manages to arouse Old Earth," Toni said, "it'll take a long time to get it moving in a single direction. You've always emphasized that. We've already got a huge jump on them."

"Which is why our best way to avoid total war will be to make a pre-emptive strike."

"At Old Earth? What about the Dorsai and the Exotics?"

"If we attacked the Exotics and the Dorsai, we'd rouse Old Earth from its sleep," he said. "They might not come out to take part, but they'd be ready when we got around to them. On the other hand, the Exotics and the Dorsai won't be able to do much if we deal with Old Earth first—they'll just be sitting there in a defensive posture, waiting for us to get around to them." He smiled.

"What I hope we can do," he said, "is put a big fleet in Old Earth's sky before they know we're coming, leaving them no choice but to surrender. When that's taken care of, we can handle the Exotics and the Dorsai at our leisure." His smile this time was a little sad. "I may be indulging in fantasy."