Antagonist - Childe Cycle 11 (56 page)

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Authors: Gordon R Dickson,David W Wixon

Tags: #Science Fiction

BOOK: Antagonist - Childe Cycle 11
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"My
name
is
Deborah,"
she
said.
She
smiled—but
there
was nothing
pleasant
in
her
face.
Her
smile
was
a
bared-teeth
affront
to those
across
the
table.

Directly
opposite
her
an
elderly
woman
stiffened,
her
mouth opening;
but
before
she
could
say
anything,
the
slightly
younger woman
next
to
her
put
out
a
hand
to
gently
touch
the
older
woman's forearm.
The
older
woman
looked
sideways
at
her
companion,
and then
past
her
at
the
other
six
people
on
her
side
of
the
table.
None said
a
word,
but
at
least
three
made
slight
movements
of
head
or
eye.

"I,
and
my
companions,"
Deborah
said,
gesturing
to
her
side
of the
table
and
in
the
direction
of
those
seated
behind
her,
"are
all members
of
an
association
that
has
been
called
the
Others
or
the
New People
—an
association
that
for
many
years
has
been
subverting
a variety
of
commercial
and
financial
entities—primarily,
although not
exclusively,
on
this
planet—for
our
own
purposes."

She
paused
now,
to
turn
her
now
neutral
gaze
on
Bleys.

"I
won't
introduce
all
of
my
companions
at
this
time,"
she
said. "We
don't
intend
to
be
deceptive,
and
you
may
ask
any
of
us
to identify
ourselves
further,
at
any
time."
She
nodded,
as
if
silently emphasizing
some
point
to
herself;
and
then
turned
her
attention back
to
the
people
across
the
tables.

"As
I
told
you
in
preparation
for
this
meeting,"
she
said,
her
eyes now
on
the
elderly
woman
directly
across
from
her,
"the
people
at the
head
table
are,
in
order,
Pallas
Salvador,
Bleys
Ahrens
and
Anto
nia
Lu—all
of
whom
have
been
mentioned
in
the
reports
you've gotten
from
us."

Her
eyes
moved
along
the
row
of
faces
opposite
her
as
if
she were
ticking
them
off
a
list.

"Behind
the
head
table,"
she
continued,
"are
a
group
of Others—members
of
the
Others'
organization
led
by
Bleys
Ahrens. For
the
sake
of
clarity,
I
will
refer
to
their
group
as
Others,
and
to my
own
group
as
New
People.
Bleys
Ahrens
speaks
for
his
group."

Now
she
turned
slightly,
to
look
directly
at
Bleys.
The
elderly woman
stiffened
again,
but
made
no
sound.

"Across
from
me,"
she
said,
"are
representatives
of
an
informal group
that
we—I
mean,
the
New
People—have
come
to
call
the Families.
They
are,
as
a
group,
largely
unknown
to
outsiders."

Now
her
smile
contained
an
edge
of
anger.

"They've
been
blackmailing
the
New
People
for
several
decades."

There
was
a
stir
in
several
portions
of
the
room,
but
Bleys
forestalled
any
other
comment
by
leaning
forward
to
look
directly
into Deborah's
face.

"Deborah,"
he
said,
his
tone
stern
and
authoritative,
"you
need to
control
yourself.
If
you
continue
to
try
to
antagonize
our
guests, you—and
your
people—will
be
removed
from
this
meeting,
and the
rest
of
us
will
continue
without
you."

Deborah
was
silent
for
a
moment,
her
face
blank;
but
then
she spoke
once
more,
seeming
to
adopt
once
again
the
professional manner
Bleys
had
come
to
expect
from
Gelica
Costanza.

"I
apologize
if
my
tone
was
offensive,"
she
said.
"The
facts
I
mentioned
were
correct,
which
I
believe
these
members
of
the
Families will
verify."
Across
the
table
the
elderly
woman
was
now
openly
glaring
at
her.

"The
lady
across
from
me
is
Serafina
Leng,"
Deborah
said.
"In order
down
the
table
beyond
her
are
her
sister,
Camille
Porter,
Paul Tombas,
Coley
Milan,
Fallon
Porter,
Bree
Somosa,
Melin
Somosa, and
John
Haroun.
Together,
they
represent—"

"That
is
enough,
Deborah,"
Camille
Porter
interrupted
her.
"We can
speak
for
ourselves."

She
turned
at
an
angle,
so
that
she
could
look
directly
at
Bleys across
the
front
of
her
sister.

"Deborah
has
some
resentment
for
us,"
Camille
Porter
said;
"it's justified,
but
it
can
be
ignored
for
the
moment."

At
that,
her
sister
made
a
noise,
as
if
about
to
protest,
but
then subsided.
Further
down
the
table,
Coley
Milan
was
not
bothering
to hide
his
amusement.
Ignoring
them
all,
Camille
Porter
continued, looking
straight
at
Bleys.

"We
here
are
indeed
members
of
a
group
that
the
so-called
New People
have
referred
to
as
the
Families,"
she
said.
"It's
an
appropriate enough
term
that
even
some
of
the
younger
members
of
our
group began,
some
time
ago,
to
use
it.
But
the
fact
is
that
the
group,
as
I
referred
to
it,
actually
has
no
name,
for
the
simple
reason
that
it
has never
had
any
sort
of
formal
structure.
Rather,
we
are
merely
members of
various
Cetan
families
who
have
found
reason
to
work
together— and
you
should
be
aware
of
the
fact
that
none
of
us
has
any
power
to speak
for,
or
commit
to,
anyone
else."

Bleys
nodded
gravely,
looking
the
woman
in
the
eye;
but
he
said nothing.
After
a
moment
Camille
Porter
spoke
again.

"Implicit
in
our
lack
of
any
representational
capacity,"
she
said, "is
a
question
as
to
the
usefulness
of
having
this
meeting
at
all." Her
comment
was
clearly
directed
at
Bleys,
and
he
responded.

"You're
asking
what
the
point
is
in
having
negotiations,
when
one
side
—allow
me
to
use
those
terms
for
the
sake
of
brevity,
please— can't
deliver
on
anything
agreed
upon,"
he
said.
He
nodded,
putting
on
a
face
of
serious
consideration.

"We're
aware
of
that
potential
problem,"
he
said.
He
had
decided,
on
the
spur
of
the
moment,
to
try
to
match
Camille
Porter's pontifical
speaking
style.
"But
the
same
lack
of
any
representational capacity
you
allude
to
also
makes
apparently
impractical
any
other form
of
communication
with
your
Families.
Yet
we
feel
that
opening up
some
form
of
communication
between
our
sides
is
vital."

"Vital
to
you,
maybe!"
Serafina
Leng
burst
out.

"Vital
to
the
Families
as
well,
I
think,"
Bleys
said
mildly.
"If
any of
you
think
such
a
thing
is
totally
impossible,
then
may
I
ask
why you've
chosen
to
come
here
at
all?"

In
the
ensuing
silence,
Bleys
swept
his
eyes
down
the
line
on Serafina
Leng's
side
of
the
table.

"W
e're
the
ones
who
asked
for
this
meeting,"
he
went
on,
finally, in
a
more
conciliatory
tone,
"and
we
recognize
that
places
us
in
a somewhat
supplicatory
posture—particularly
in
light
of
the
fact
that we're
the
ones
who
are
new
to
this
planet.
However,
any
lack
of
seniority
on
our
part
should
not
be
taken
to
mean
we
have
nothing
of value
to
offer
you."

"
'Offer'?"
Paul
Tombas
spoke
up.
"In
exchange
for
what?
I
can't think
of
anything
you
could
offer
us
that
would
be
worth
our
giving you
control
of
our
planet."

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