A Thousand Deaths (20 page)

"I think I saw it by the groon field a little while ago," said Kenny.

"Okay, that's good enough." Arthur looked very uncomfortable as Courane led him out of the barn.

"You want to talk about last night," said Arthur.

Courane nodded. Although the winter was ending, it was still very cold. Their words were punctuated with puffs of frosty breath. "What did all that mean, Arthur? And don't bother with that business about there not being any TECT."

Arthur gave a weak smile. "I didn't think you'd buy that."

"I don't think even Nneka bought it and she's only been here for a month. What were you doing?"

"My job, Sandy, just my job."

"What the hell does that mean?"

Arthur stopped and faced away from Courane, in the direction of the groon field toward the river. "I'm an agent for TECT, Sandy. I was sent here as kind of a spy."

"A spy. What does TECT need a spy for?"

"You saw. You read what it wants to know. TECT is worried that some people here may be plotting to start a revolutionary movement back on Earth."

Courane and Arthur started walking again, across the field littered with dead groon husks. The frozen husks crunched beneath their feet as they moved through the field. "That makes no sense at all, Arthur," he said. "In the first place, there isn't anything we can do from here. What possible trouble could we stir up? We can't communicate with anyone on Earth without TECT listening in. And after all, how can a computing machine 'worry'?"

Arthur took a deep breath of the cold air; it made him sneeze. "Sandy, believe me, TECT can worry. TECT can be jealous and angry, too. I know."

"How?"

"I was on the engineering team that developed the final phase of TECT's autonomic regulatory system. I probably know as much about TECT's attitudes and capabilities as anyone on Earth. Or Planet D."

"Ah," said Courane. "Then how did you end up here? This farm is for criminals."

"When we finished hooking up the installation in the Azores, the last Representative decided it was time to turn over the world's troubles to TECT. By then, TECT was handling most of his problems anyway, and Tom thought it would be all right to retire and let the machine make all the rest of the decisions. There was nothing left for my associates and me to do. TECT sent me here last year to keep it informed of any possible treasonous activities."

"As part of your job?"

"Yes, in a way. A new assignment. It took TECT quite some time to find new employment for some of the more specialized technicians, to dispose of everyone."

"To dispose of everyone is right," murmured Courane. He felt a wave of sadness sweep over him. As deluded as he had been, here was an intelligent man who was blinder still. "And you expect to be sent home soon?"

"Soon. TECT hasn't given me a final date."

Courane put his arm around the man's shoulders. "Arthur," he said, "I have some very bad news to tell you."

 

The drab gray-blue foliage in the hills was quite distinct from the red-purple vegetation around the farm. The grass that covered the hills was not as tall as the red variety, and it was stiff and spiky. The trees were of many varieties, some tall and billowing with clouds of small gray leaves, others strict and straight as naked poles, topped with long flimsy streamers that floated in the wind. There were evergreens that weren't green but blue, with rigid spines on their low branches to protect against the gnawing of the varks that lived among the forested heights.

There were flowers, too, many more varieties than the colonists had become familiar with near the river. The colors of the blossoms ranged from deep midnight blue to a gentle sea green; there were no yellows or reds. The flecks of color were a welcome relief from the emptiness of the desert and the generally dull vegetation of the woods. Yet even the flowers were unsettling to Courane. When he examined them, he learned that their shapes were gross and oddly bestial. Like the flowers close to the farmhouse, these, too, released perfumes offensive to Earthborn senses.

In an open space at the summit of one of the hills, Courane paused to rest. He put the young woman's body down carefully in the saw-toothed grass and sat cross-legged, facing the farther slopes to the east. He would be through them all soon. He could see a pass that threaded its way among three low hills to his right. The way would be easier and he might come through the chain and arrive at the house in four days.

He was feeling well, although he was very tired. The day was cool and the fresh breeze from the northeast rustled the leaves around him. He closed his eyes for a moment, intending to rise shortly and continue his day's journey; a bird chirped nearby in a tree at the edge of the small clearing. The bird's song was soft and musical, and, as Courane listened, it seemed to him to sound exactly like a woman's voice.

Courane opened his eyes to look for the bird, but he forgot about it instantly. Around him in the clearing three women were dancing, their hands joined as they formed a circle about him. The women were supernaturally beautiful, more beautiful than any he had ever seen in his life. They were dressed in long gowns of some lovely gossamer material. They were like goddesses, the three Graces, ideals of beauty and charm. They danced around him smiling, but Courane saw that each was weeping as well.

Now, Courane said to himself, this is the magic moment. Now I will find out what my life means and what I must do. Fearfully he addressed the women. "Why are you crying?" he asked of the first.

"I'm crying for you," she said. Courane was frightened to see that she was his mother, radiant and youthful and grieving.

"But you don't have to cry for me," he said. "I'm all right. I'm fine, Mom." He tried to stand up and he could not. He felt helpless, but not vulnerable.

"Oh, Sandy," his mother said, "if you had only listened to me. If you had just stayed in Greusching and married Lilli, none of this would have happened. Sandy, Sandy." Her voice was so filled with pain that it wounded Courane's heart to hear her.

The second woman danced before his gaze, moving with slow yet infinitely elegant grace. The joy of her smiling face was belied by the stream of tears that flowed from each dark eye. It was Alohilani.

"Are you crying for me, too, Lani?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. She smiled, and he flinched as if she had struck him.

"But I'm still alive. Lani, you're the one who's already dead. Mourn yourself if you need to, but I'm not dead yet."

"It's not your life or my death that I lament," she said. "It's useless to weep for the horror or the pity of the world. You see our sorrow for the lives of everyone, not just for you whom we love."

"What of the others, Sandy?" said the third woman. It was Rachel, alive again. "They and you and we gain nothing from pity. Pity is for those who fall and don't regret their fall, those who do not care to rise again. What will you do for them, Sandy?"

Courane was bewildered. "What
can
I do?"

His mother spoke to him again. "You must stop thinking of yourself, son. All you've thought about is finding a way to save yourself from death. You've failed, you've absolutely failed. What else did you expect? You should listen to me when I tell you something. Now you have to start thinking of all the others. If you save them, you will save yourself. Think of them first. Turn your mind away from your own trouble and go on for the sake of all the others. You're a good boy, Sandy. Do it for your mother."

Courane himself was crying now. In a moment he realized that the women had faded away and were gone. He sat up quickly. There was a cold bite to the air; the sun had gone down and the evening sky was covered with heavy clouds. It was very dark and Courane felt lonely and afraid. "I can't hide from it," he muttered. "If my mind does this to me now, how much worse will it be in the days before I die?" He was unable to fall asleep; instead, he just sat on the hilltop and stared into the blackness.

 

There was a lot on Courane's mind in the middle of Vitelli. He had been chosen the community's official representative to TECT. He had learned that Arthur had been informing the machine of their activities—and that opened the question of others besides Arthur doing the same thing. And through all this Alohilani sank deeper into the final lethargy of D syndrome.

On a cold, gray morning, Klára approached him at breakfast with a request. It was the first time someone on the farm had asked him to beg TECT for a favor. With Klára, though, it was more a threat than a request. "I want my husband, my daughter, and certain of my personal possessions transferred here," she said. "Failing that, I must demand that I be returned to my home. TECT has no right to separate me from my family. That is kidnapping. And TECT cannot withhold my private property. The whole matter is a hideous crime and I insist that TECT or whatever is responsible correct it all immediately."

Courane looked at her in silence for a moment. He was just a little dazzled by the vehemence of her ultimatum. "You want your belongings sent here," he said.

She shook her head. "That is my second choice. I would prefer being sent back to Europe, but TECT will not likely agree to that."

"You're probably right."

"Then I want my husband and my daughter to accompany my things."

"Klára—"

"You will address me as Mrs. Hriniak."

"Yes, ma'am. You don't want your husband and your daughter brought here."

"Don't tell me what I want and don't want! If I can live here comfortably, so can they. Do as I tell you!"

Courane knew he'd never be able to reason with her. No one ever had. She had only two moods: outrage and smug satisfaction. "Mrs. Hriniak, TECT won't agree to any of that."

"Then what did we elect you for?"

Courane didn't have the answer to that, so he kept his silence. He had been wondering the same thing.

"You present my request at once," she said.

Courane finished his breakfast and went to the den, followed closely by Klára, who muttered to herself in an outraged cadence. "Hello," Courane typed, "this is Courane, Sandor. I've been elected the official spokesman for the community here on Planet D. I have been asked by one of my fellows to deliver a request."

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
How very interesting that all of you are forming a little democratic republic way out in space. TECT in the name of the Representative believed that the logical fallacies of such forms of government had been demonstrated hundreds of years ago. But that is not important. Who is the applicant?**

 

"Hriniak, Klára."

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
That isn't surprising. Don't reveal what she wants; TECT in the name of the Representative is keen to guess. She wants to return to Earth, right?**

 

"Yes, that's part of it. If that isn't—"

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
In lieu of that, she wants her husband and daughter sent to Planet D, and all her precious possessions as well. Not necessarily in that order**

 

"That's her plea in a nutshell."

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
"Plea," eh? Somehow TECT in the name of the Representative cannot picture HRINIAK, Klára, begging on her knees. How do you people put up with her? Never mind. TECT in the name of the Representative will have your—that is, her—decision in a matter of seconds. Please stand by**

 

"Mrs. Hriniak," said Courane, "TECT says it will have your decision—"

"I know, you fool, I can read as well as you can."
 

They waited in silence. Courane tapped his foot, wishing that he were elsewhere, almost any elsewhere. Klára just stared malevolently at the tect's console, daring it to defy her.

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Here's the verdict. Yes and no. No, HRINIAK, Klára, can't have her property and furniture. It would be outrageously expensive to get all that junk to Planet D by teletrans.

**COURANE, Sandor: 
On the other matter, HRINIAK, János, is not able to travel to Planet D to join her. He is currently in a hospital in Békés undergoing treatment for acute alcoholism. He will be unable to travel for an indeterminate period**

 

"Ha!" cried Klára with smug satisfaction. "I always knew without me he'd end up in the gutter."

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
To relieve the pain of these disappointments just a little, TECT in the name of the Representative is happy to announce that HRINIAK, Klára, may look forward soon to the company of her lovely thirty-one-year-old daughter, Zsuzsi. Zsuzsi is five feet six inches tall, weighs one hundred sixty pounds, has blonde hair and blue eyes and a friendly, outgoing personality. Unmarried and fun-loving, Zsuzsi works as a sentiment-composer for a prestigious line of greeting cards. She likes cabbage, radishes, and sausage, and in her spare time she enjoys participating in extinct folk dances while wearing flamboyant clothing she pretends is similar to that worn by her ancestors on festive occasions.
 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Please inform HRINIAK, Klára, that her daughter will be subceived to Planet D following the death of STANEK, Molly, which TECT in the name of the Representative estimates to take place 17 February, 8 YT, at 12:00:00 (10 Tomuary, 125, at 26:16:52). TECT is happy to reunite mother and daughter according to their wishes, and hopes that HRINIAK, Zsuzsi, will be a source of strength and comfort to her mother, while HRINIAK, Klára, will introduce the young woman to the hearty life of work and fellowship available on Planet D. Failure to comply with these suggestions will be considered Contempt of TECTWish.
 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Understanding of the above to be indicated.
 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Affirm?**

 

He looked at Klára. She nodded. Courane didn't believe she really understood all the implications. She had, in effect, just ordered her own daughter's execution. He said, "Yes," in reply to TECT's question.