Man Who Used the Universe (25 page)

Loo-Macklin nodded, a gesture Chaheel recognized easily. "It should never have come out. That damn technician stumbled across it and then had the brains, and the guts, to get in touch with you."

"What would you have done if I had conveyed this knowledge to my superiors?"

"That could've meant trouble. Of course, the leaders of the Great Families are entirely aware of what I've been doing." He chuckled. "They would have been very upset by your actions.

"Since you are not privy to the decisions of the Great Family Heads, you are as unaware of the plan as most of your kind. The less who know of it, the better, even among the Nuel. You have your own dissatisfied, your own mentally unstable. Your own Thomas Lindsays."

Chaheel was too confused to think straight. He'd come to this place with the avowed intention of killing this man and then dying in a rain of fire. Now he was about to be shooed on his way, leaving behind a greater ally than the Nuel had ever had, along with much of his self-respect.

"Why should I believe you? How do we know that this additive you are going to put in our offspring's food, ostensibly to fool your own intelligence people, will not recombine at some later stage of growth to cause all the harm you say it cannot?"

"You should hear yourself." Loo-Macklin was still amused. "I told you that your own biologists checked it out." He touched a hidden floor switch. Another metal cylinder rose out of the floor. It was more massive than the simple drink dispenser. Chaheel recognized the shine of an impervious eutectic alloy.

The man ran his fingertips over one side of the safe and a single information storage chip slid out. He handed it to the psychologist. It was blank, of course, the information contained inside stored along lines of light.

"Here are the names and codes for some of your less widely publicized but most brilliant scientific research families. Contact them. This chip will serve as your entry. You'll be able to study the test procedures and results for yourself, thus saving yourself the embarrassment of going before some high Family official and insulting me to a friend."

"I suppose," Chaheel's bulging eyes both focused on the transparent chip, "I suppose I owe you an apology, Kee-yes vain Lewmaklin."

"Nonsense." The human touched him in a comradely fashion, trying to reassure him. "Your instincts were good. Based on what you knew, or rather what you didn't know, you acted like a true scion of a Great Family."

"I could have killed you before you had the chance to tell me all this. When I entered and we exchanged body fluids, for example."

"Perhaps." Loo-Macklin shrugged, indifferent to death as ever. "Physically you are stronger than I, yes. But I'm quite strong for a human. Quite strong. You would have had to finish me quickly. My own protection machines," and he gestured widely, encompassing the entire immense room, "would have had time to come to my assistance. Would've been a waste of a sharp mind, psychologist."

"But one that you would have been prepared to live with. Why let me come here in person and let me risk my life, when you could have informationed me thus on the mainland?"

"Because I felt it would carry more conviction if I told you in person," was the reply. "Considering your dedication and all the trouble you'd gone to, I thought I owed you that much. Besides," he flexed massive arms, "life grows stale for me. Small risks are really not risks at all, but spice."

Chaheel thought of something else. "What of the technician, Thomas Lindsay?"

"As soon as I was informed of what he'd done, I had him disposed of. Fortunately, you were the only one he'd gotten to. He could have ruined everything. No chance of that now. You might keep in mind the fact that his death was required to protect Nuel interests."

"I understand," whispered the now thoroughly numbed psychologist.

"Now that that's all finished with," Loo-Macklin clapped his hands together, his expression cheerful once again, "can I persuade you to take food with me? I have an extensive food supply system, which can conjure up the delicacies of many races, including your own. I would also enjoy showing you around my little home. There are a great many things within, which I think you would find of interest. I have a collection of primitive art, which is somewhat famous. It includes, you might be surprised to know, a modest section devoted to the Nuel."

"That's not pos . . ." Chaheel started to say, then shut up. For one as valued by the Great Families as this human, nothing was impossible.

"There are other entertainments also," Loo-Macklin added coaxingly.

"No . . . thank you, no. Feeling am I most awkward and uncomfortable. I would like mostly to return to my work as quickly as possible."

"If that's the way you feel." The human appeared genuinely disappointed. "I wish I could convince you to come and work for me. I have many Nuel working for me on the worlds of the Families, but not many in the UTW. Not many can cope with the shape-prejudice, which still lingers like a cancer among my people. I could use you, and you would learn much."

"No, no." Chaheel's cilia began backing him toward the door. He'd been fooled, badly fooled. That frightened him. This smiling, pleasant-voiced soulless human frightened him. Get away from him, his instincts screamed at him. Get out, get away, before he uses you the way he's used his own government.

What he said politely, was, "I'd rather pursue my own research. That has always been my dream. I desire election to the Family of Academissionaries. I have hopes of eventually maturing to medical research."

"I understand," murmured Loo-Macklin sympathetically, "though I won't try to hide my disappointment. You're a bright helmzin," he added, using the word for highly intelligent adult. "But I defer to your own desires, which clearly differ from my own. I wish you farewell and good luck with your work." He gestured toward the distant door, seemingly miles away across the polished matrix floor.

"And should you ever actually have any questions involving human/Nuel commercial interactions and their psychological effects, please don't hesitate to contact any of my company supervisors if I'm not available myself. I'm quite busy these days."

"Sure am I that you are." He hurried for the exit as rapidly as was decent.

And that's how he left Kees vaan Loo-Macklin, his mind adrift on a sea of confusion. Part of him admired the human and the intricacy of the plan he'd devised to fool his own intelligence service and government.

Fool, he admonished himself! You leapt to an assumption because it fit your private, preconceived notions. You should have checked out this Lindsay's information further before considering action, let alone murder.

Oh, he wouldn't take Lewmaklin's word, of course. He would take transport home, process the information chip the human had given him, check it with other sources. He would truly locate and talk with those Nuel who had worked on the development of the additive. Only then could he relax, safe in the knowledge that Kee-yes vain Lewmaklin was still a trusted ally of the Nuel, and Chaheel Riens a paranoid idiot.

The marcar cramped him unmercifully as it sped back across the emerald sea. It was fortunate Lewmaklin had agreed to assist the Families. Any mind, which could construct and then manipulate such an intricate framework of deception and lies would have made a terribly dangerous enemy.

Yes, Chaheel was frightened of him, and his fear did not embarrass him.

The commander of the transport ship, who was in truth a military officer incognito inside the UTW, greeted the psychologist as he boarded the shuttle, which was to take him into orbit. From there the ship would depart the UTW. Chaheel Riens was going home.

The commander's eyes, however, were nearly devoid of color. Chaheel knew instantly that something serious was troubling the commander.

Naturally the commander was troubled, he reminded himself. They knew that if he returned at all they would be greeting a murderer and a fugitive. The officers would be glued to their screens, frantically scanning orbital space around Evenwaith for the signs of pursuit they expected to arrive at any moment. He hastened to reassure the officer opposite him.

"All is at rest, Commander. I was in the wrong. There is no plot to poison our children. Our own government is aware of it. It is only minor functionaries like ourselves who have been kept ignorant of the details of this fine working, to protect it from accidental disclosure. They trust us not, truly.

"I did not have to kill the human Lewmaklin. The lehl remains within him. Both implant and host continue to function efficiently on family business."

"Truly," murmured the commander. He seemed distracted. "That is excellent news indeed." He moved to a communicator, absently called off the alert.

Chaheel frowned. "Did you not understand? There is no plot to poison our young. The additive that is to go into their food is harmless. It degrades within the bloodstream. All is part of a wider plot to fool the humans into believing that Lewmaklin is working for them." He held out the information chip the man had given him.

"Here is proof. Names and locations of our own scientists who have worked on this project. I would think you would be excited, Commander, by such news."

"I am greatly relieved," the commander admitted, trying to muster some enthusiasm.

"Then why do you look so virelsham?"

"We have a new puzzle."

"It cannot confuse or depress me as much as the one just unraveled," Chaheel assured him.

"I am certain it cannot, but it is a puzzle just the same and your opinion is urgently solicited. Come." He motioned with a tentacle tip and they started up the corridor.

In the same conference chamber where not so very long ago Chaheel had announced his intention to slay Loo-Macklin waited a cluster of silent officers.

The commander indicated Chaheel's cupouch, slid greasily into his own.

"Several days ago we picked up a transmission that originated from this Lewmaklin's personal residence, the one you have just returned from. We were monitoring all transmissions from that place because that was your destination and we hoped we might learn something useful to you. The residence conceals an extremely large and powerful deepspace broadcast array."

Chaheel thought back to the array of seemingly decorative, gleaming towers, which rose like a metal forest from the island. As he suspected, Lewmaklin did not indulge in frivolous decor.

"The beam employed by this system is of a new, formerly unknown type, apparently designed to cover great distances without the aid of the usual booster stations. Our chief communications officer was scanning when he happened to encounter an ultrafast series of numbers being blasted out via this method. Fortunately, he had them recorded before they escaped completely.

"It took us until yesterday, shiptime, to decode the mathematical sequence. I will play the gleaning back for you now." He made a gesture.

At the far end of the oval depression, around which the cupouches and their occupants were grouped, another officer touched controls. The already dim room darkened further and the hollow in the floor lit up.

Chaheel saw the squat shape of Loo-Macklin standing in the same grand room where he himself had stood the previous evening. The human turned to face a visual pickup. His expression was solemn. A storm-tossed ocean was visible through the transparent wall behind him.

"Hail tomothee, Falexia. Everything goes as planned. It will not be longer now until the final phase of our dealing can be brought to fruition, an end toward which we have worked for so long. The projections for success are still good. I look forward as always to meeting you in person.

"I am in position to manage all details of the business from my end. All final concerns have been obviated. Until we have the honor of a successful meeting, Falexia, I faretheewell."

It was not a long transmission.

Chaheel had just finished a graphic lesson in the folly of jumping to wrong conclusions. The message left him curious, but untroubled.

"Save for the somewhat stilted language, which may be due to improper decoding—" an officer across the oval stiffened slightly—"and the unfamiliar forms of greeting, I see nothing to be concerned with here. He is clearly in converse with some commercial opposite, finalizing the details of some large transaction.

"Lewmaklin's business interests are among the most extensive known. Is it surprising that he should utilize a new variety of tightbeam communication for such purposes? The heads of certain Families employ similar methods for security purposes."

"I question nothing you point out." Despite this confession, the commander still appeared uneasy.

"Then why retain you the aspect of a crespik deadbone?" Chaheel wanted to know.

"Three days following, evening yesterday local planetary time, and apparently in response to the message you have just viewed, we intercepted another transmission. Incoming, this time. It is only because we continued to monitor the special beam frequency that we were able to trap it."

The depression in the center of the floor flickered to life once more, only this time the image was distorted and violent with static.

While engineers worked to clear it, the commander continued to talk. "The method of broadcast actually differs slightly from that used by Lewmaklin. Despite the aid of computers, our decoding efforts were not completely successful. As you see, it is highly difficult to unscramble.

"I believe that this is an instantaneous response to the broadcast you just saw."

Chaheel did some rapid calculating. He was neither physicist nor communications expert, but even he knew that within a volume of space several parsecs across, subspace communications took a matter of minutes. Transmission across greater distances required proportionately more time.

If the commander was correct and this garbled communication was truly instantaneous, then that could mean that Lewmaklin's outgoing message took a day and a half to reach its destination, instead of minutes. And another day and a half for the reply to reach Evenwaith. That implied conversation over distances so great that . . .