Power Play Page 2

  Two hours later the envoys were ready to depart.

  Clodagh gave each of them an almost ritualistic kiss and embrace, putting a little leather bag on a thong around each of their necks.

  “What’s this?” Yana asked.

  “It’s dirt,” Clodagh said simply.

  “Dirt?”

  “Yes. Petaybee wants you to have something to remember it by. The dirt’s from the cave.”

  Not long before, Yana would have been stymied by such a statement, but now she squeezed Clodagh warmly in an embrace of her own. “This makes me feel a lot better.”

  Then Sean clasped her in a farewell embrace and she, Bunny, and Diego boarded the company shuttle that would take them to Marmion’s executive spaceliner, waiting in orbit. In Yana’s carryall was Sean’s wedding vest, to sleep with, and a hastily made town recording to Petaybean relatives in company service. Bunny carried a frozen fish for her cousin Charlie from his parents and a basket of pemmican from the wedding feast for homesick Petaybeans. Diego carried letters from his father to his mother, and a basket of his favorite Petaybean foods, plus nutrients to keep himself and Bunny healthy on the journey.

  Once aboard the spaceliner, Sally Point-Jefferson, Marmion’s aide, carefully placed Charlie’s fish in the freezer. Bunny remained glued to the viewscreen, watching Petaybee disappear into a tiny point of light in the vastness of black space. She bent and unbent her fingers against the port in farewell as her home disappeared altogether.

  2

  Bunny turned away from the window, a little gasp of dismay escaping her throat, her eyes misty with suppressed tears.

  “I never thought I’d see the last of Petaybee,” she said mournfully. Diego immediately took her into a warm embrace, murmuring reassurances and some of the silly names that he had created for her.

  “Now, gatita,” he said, the name meaning “little cat” or “kitten,” “it’s not as if you won’t be coming back, or anything. It’s only for a little while. And I bet no one from Kilcoole has ever seen Petaybee from space like you just did. Looks like one of those stones Aisling polishes up, the bluey ones with the white bands.”

  “Yes, I guess it does at that,” Bunny said, sniffling until Marmion handed her a tissue. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t bring anything to blow into.”

  “What the well-appointed vessel has in quantity—things you don’t remember to bring with you,” Marmion said kindly. “I forget how hard it is to leave a place you love. Only think how excited you’ll be to see it in the viewscreen on your way back. The better view!”

  Marmion then organized everyone into keeping busy; settling into their cubicles, getting food, making themselves comfortable. “I’ve had Sally acquire clothing for you, since you’d all be overwarmly dressed where we’re going. It’s also very important, I think, that we choose garments that will seem appropriate to our mission.”

  “What’s wrong with what we’re wearing?” Bunny asked. She was wearing the beautiful Gather Blouse Aisling had made out of the material Yana had gifted her with. The blouse made her feel very elegant and adult, and Diego said it was the nicest thing he’d seen her in.

  “I’m not suggesting you change your style, dear,” Marmion said in a conciliating tone, “and that blouse is certainly lovely, but you can’t appear every day in it. So Sally and I scrounged around to see what would be you as well as, ah . . . not too conspicuously different. Oh . . .” She gave an exasperated sigh as she saw the defiant look on Bunny’s face. “For all I’m supposed to be so diplomatic, I’m not putting this in the right words, am I? But then, where we’re going, one is not often judged by what one is, but what one seems to be. You know what I’m talking about, Colonel Yana dear, don’t you?” And Marmion appealed to Yana on more than the one count she was trying to explain.

  “I do, indeed, Marmion.” Yana tried to pull a fold over her belly from the material of her one-piece suit and failed with a laugh. “I’ll need a size larger, I know.”

  “Oh, you’re easy to do, Yana,” Marmion said. “Wasn’t she, Sally?”

  The aide laughed and nodded. “With trouser pleats for expansion,” she said. “And a tunic tailored just that little bit fuller across the . . . ah . . . hips.”

  “It isn’t my hips that worry me,” Yana said with a grin, hoping to clear Bunny’s troubled expression.

  “Diego, we’ve ordered you the very latest,” Marmion went on, and then giggled in one of those displays of amusement which charmed her friends. “In fact, the whole operation was a great deal of fun. Why don’t you and Bunny go see what’s in your wardrobes? We’ll still have time to discard what you really can’t possibly be seen in before you have to be seen in it.”

  Diego escorted Bunny firmly to the cabins they’d been assigned. Only when the panel had slid shut behind them did Marmion’s expression alter to one of concern.

  “You do know what I mean, Yana?”

  “Oh, yes, Marmion. I know precisely what you’re trying to do, and so does Diego. He knows the drills. So do I. So, now what? Or do we wait for the others to return before you tell us the bad news?”

  “How ever did you know there is some?”

  “Because you’re taking such especial pains to make us seem normal, look normal, and yet different enough so we’ll still be ‘original,’ as well as acceptable.”

  Marmion, hands loosely clasped in her lap, considered that. “It will not be smooth sailing, although I have every confidence that common sense, at least this once, will prevail. Intergal, as well as other holding companies that have vast numbers of star systems held in fief as Petaybee is, will be watching. The scientifically acute are fascinated by the idea of a sentient planet. You must know that, with all the paper that’s flooded your desk once they had a name to send messages to.”

  Yana nodded ruefully. “No kidding. There’s been so much of it I haven’t even begun to read it all, much less answer it. Sean’s been doing a lot of the footwork, I suppose you’d call it, and that leaves Diego as the only other literate person in the north, other than his father and Steve Margolies, who are busy enough with their own work. Loncie Ondelacy is able to do some in the south. Diego’s been teaching Bunny to read and write, but fast as she is, she can’t learn enough in a couple of months to do more than help with alphabetical filing. Most of the letters seem to be from people who want to come to Petaybee for some reason or the other—I can’t believe there’s so many out there all of a sudden when the planet’s been so quiet for years.

  “We’ve had several inquiries from drug companies, too, and I have no idea how Clodagh’s cures can be reproduced at this point. Even with a good growing season this year, the planet so far has provided just about enough to keep native Petaybeans supplied. If we’re actually going to try to farm some of Clodagh’s plants and produce her cures for a wider population, we’ll have to do it in some way that doesn’t overtax Petaybee. Clodagh’s not even sure, at this point, if some of the ingredients can live off-planet. I knew this was going to take a lot of work, but it seems to me that someone’s been broadcasting a lot of what ought to be classified information about the planet’s sentient nature outside the committee. It’s pushing us to go much faster than we’re equipped to do at present.”

  “I understand your concern,” Marmion said, “and discretion certainly has been urged on all parties where Petaybee is involved. I’m afraid what you’re dealing with now is only, if you’ll pardon the expression, the tip of the iceberg. Some of our board members are expressing concern that other colonized worlds might try to claim similar status. They’re worried that Petaybee will set a precedent. If there were some way to reassure them that this is a once-off case of planetary sentience . . .” She cocked her head hopefully at Yana.

  “You expect me to be able to answer that, Marmion? I can barely cope with the knowledge that there’s one . . .”

  “And that’s exactly the attitude you ought to take, if I may make such a suggestion. Reaffirming it whenever asked just as you did to me
now.”

  “But suppose Petaybee isn’t a once-off? . . .” Yana liked to know she was telling the truth, inadvertently or otherwise.

  Marmion sighed. “All the more reason, from the board’s standpoint, for keeping information about Petaybee hush-hush. They’d just as soon not give inhabitants of other terraformed planets any ideas, but at the same time, I expect CIS is going to want some sort of poll to try to determine if other worlds formerly considered habitats are indeed sentient beings.”

  She gave a gusty sigh. “It all seemed so easy back there.” She flicked her fingers in the general spatial direction of Petaybee. “Lots of things seemed easy back there.”

  “Mostly because there weren’t so many things to cloud perceptions,” Yana said.

  “Well, that’s item one, Yana,” Marmion went on briskly. “We have no way of knowing if there are more sentient planets, so we’ll pretend Petaybee’s an exception. As such, it will make our job that much easier. I think.”

  “What’s item two?”

  “Matthew Luzon is recovering from his injuries and . . .”

  “Determined to somehow make us all pay for the indignities he suffered?” Yana supplied when Marmion hesitated.

  “Yes, not to refine too much on it. That’s why I’ve put some precautions in train. Sally . . .” She gestured to her aide, who immediately handed Yana a slim device that had a variety of depressible keys. “This is precaution number one. Carry it with you at all times and as inconspicuously as possible. It’ll fit nicely in your brassiere. Put it on the left, depression side up, and memorize the positions of the various function keys so you can just”— she placed a casual hand over her left breast—“signal what’s needed.” She grinned. “As you’ll see, it’s got a sensitive recorder and a few offstage tricks that can be implemented. Rather handy.”

  “Have you needed such a device?” Yana examined it, noting the icons as well as the self-explanatory abbreviations like REC and MAY.

  “Not ‘needed’ precisely,” Marmion allowed, “but I always felt more . . . secure . . . when I was in unknown space, as it were, with that gadget in place. Then I’ve also appointed you ‘assistants.’ ” Now she did look slightly embarrassed.

  “Assistants?” Yana cocked her head at Marmion.

  “Yes, well, everyone who is anyone has them . . .”

  “And I must appear to be ‘everyone’ or ‘anyone’ . . . so who’s my assistant?”

  “You have three, Sally and Millard Ephasios for show, and someone who may not be needed to tell,” Marmion explained, finishing with her charmingly ingenuous smile immediately counteracted by a sly wink. “And you won’t know who that is.”

  “Hmm. All these subversive—”

  “Discreet, my dear Yana,” Marmion corrected her.

  “—measures are necessary, you feel?”

  “I don’t like the weather report,” Marmion said.

  “Have you minders for Diego and Bunny?”

  “I do, and I know they’ll suit right down to the ground.”

  “Are you giving Bunny one of these?” Yana held up the slim device, which was no more than two fingers long and two knuckles wide. “She loves gadgetry.”

  “No, their bracelets should be adequate. As I’m sure you noticed, Bunny’s unsettled enough about venturing forth. I don’t want to upset her further. She’s naturally shrewd anyway, and what she doesn’t know about human nature, Diego knows about spacefaring ways.”

  “This trip will do her understanding of the galaxy a world of good,” Yana remarked, and when Marmion gave her a startled look and started to laugh at her choice of words, she joined in. “Where’s the galley on this boat? You’d think the way I eat, I hadn’t seen food since Breakup!”

  “You go with Sally to see your wardrobe, and I’ll just fix a little something to tide you over to dinnertime,” Marmion said.

  “You? Cook?” Yana asked in surprise.

  Marmion smiled a trifle archly. “Actually I’m rather good, aren’t I, Sally?” And when her aide nodded affirmatively, the elegant diplomat added, “But I only do it for very special people.”

  “So you get to bear-lead me, huh, Sally?” Yana commented as she followed Sally to her cabin.

  They passed the one assigned to Diego and Bunny and heard the spirited discussion within.

  “And people wear things like this? I’d freeze!”

  “You’re not going to be on Petaybee, and it’s a great color for you, gatita.”

  “Well, I dunno about the way it clings . . .”

  “Trust me,” Diego said, “it’s terrific.”

  Yana grinned to Sally as they passed.

  The selections made for Yana quite took her breath away. She’d never had many occasions to dress up, and the extent of the apparel displayed for her approval ranged from severely tailored to rich formal attire.

  “Whenever would I wear something like this?” she asked Sally, holding out a gore of the garnet, synthi-silk full skirt, even as she was mentally trying it on. Then she noticed the decorations—copying Petaybean designs—on the neck and sleeve bands.

  “There will be one or two formal occasions when you’ll need to be extra elegant,” Sally said, taking another fold and holding it up to Yana’s face. “Yes, I thought this would be a good color for you.”

  “I’ve never had anything so . . . so soft and . . .” Yana couldn’t resist stroking the fine fabric against her cheek.

  “Feminine?” Sally asked. “About time then.” Then she went to the more tailored semi-uniform garments. “You’ll have more use of these.”

  “Oh . . .” Yana’s wondering fingers caught at the Petaybean designs discreetly worked into the pocket flaps.

  “Marmion was so taken with the Petaybean designs when we first arrived on the planet that we asked Aisling to do us some treatments. Subtle but noticeable, and definitely smart. That woman has an excellent clothes sense. Too bad it’s been limited to rabbit skins and handwovens—not that,” Sally hastily put in, “those haven’t been handsome fabrics. Just more . . . ah . . . practical than you’d need onstation.”

  “Which are we going to, by the way? Marmion didn’t say.”

  “Oh,” Sally said, tossing out this bombshell as nonchalantly as she could, “Gal Three, of course.”

  Yana gulped and her mind raced from one consideration to another: Gal Three was the largest of the Space Cities, certainly in this sector of inhabited space, the headquarters of half a dozen of the more massive and prominent diversified enterprises, as well as CIS, Gal-legal, Gal-naval, and other galactic agencies. It was immense and was constantly updating its facilities with state-of-the-art technologies. Bunny would be totally overwhelmed, and Yana understood why Marmion was going to such lengths to dress them—clothes could give one confidence, just as uniforms could bestow anonymity at times—and why they would need hidden alert devices and “assistants.” Yana hoped that Diego knew something about Gal Three—at least its reputation.

  “Baptism into civilization by total immersion?” she quipped at Sally to cover her uneasiness.

  “Bunny will be well protected, Yana.” Sally was deadly serious.

  “Then who’ve you got riding herd on her?”

  “Riding herd? Oh, yes. Good term.” Sally grinned. “Marmion has roped a pair of her young relatives—not too young, though, and very knowledgeable—to help out. And a very competent person as the discreet guard. She’ll have fun, too. This is going to be quite a learning experience.”

  “Not just for her,” Yana said with a sigh.

  “Well, do you approve?” Marmion asked, coming into the cabin with a loaded tray.

  “I’ll never be as well dressed again,” Yana said on the end of a sigh. “Oh, that smells divine . . .”

  “Good natural foods always do. This is earth chook.”

  “Chicken?”

  “Prepared from a much-coveted family recipe known to the famille de Revers as the Colonel’s Southern Fried Chicken,” Marmion said, s
natching off the cover of the main dish with a dramatic gesture. “The colonel was my many-greats ancestor who fought in some sort of early war on Earth.”

  “Ohhh . . .” Yana, sniffing deeply, made no more concessions to courtesy but sank down on the chair by the table and served herself from the large platter.

  Bunny entered then. “What smells so good?” she asked. Diego was right behind her, sniffing with his not-so-small proboscis.

  “Yummy!”

  “There’s enough for all and more that can be hotted up if anyone has an appetite,” Marmion said as the young people pulled chairs up to the table. She and Sally exchanged glances at the success of their agenda.

  3

  Sean forced himself back to work after seeing Yana off. He had hoped that they would have a little time to spend together. He’d arranged his investigations in the south so that he could. Damn CIS. But he had to trust Marmion de Revers Algemeine. She was awake on every count and more than able to handle whatever the ungood Captain Torkel Fiske and ex-chairperson Dr. Matthew Luzon could be up to. Sean did not doubt for a moment that they had plans underway to discredit Marmion, Yana, Bunny, and Diego, perhaps even discredit Anaciliact—though he would be the hardest person to compromise of the lot of them that had gone so bravely forth today. Sean just didn’t see either Torkel Fiske or Matthew Luzon forgetting the indignities both had suffered on Petaybee, well-deserved though they had been.

  Luzon may have broken legs, but with new healing techniques those injuries wouldn’t put him out of action much longer. And nothing had broken his brains any more than they already were, or altered the man’s outrage at the backfiring of all his calculations. Of course, he had lost credibility with Farringer Ball, the secretary-general of Intergal, but that would only make him more anxious to retaliate.