The dark planet - (v1.0), page 11
“Then why kill Paul Houseman?” Nathan found his voice at last.
“Because I need an example for the people. I need to put some teeth behind my new rules and new campaign.”
“That’s very clever.” Janotek bobbed his head in recognition of it. “But Cory is nothing. Besides, Kash, you may as well face the fact that the virus story is true. I have seen it for myself. You won’t get out of this situation so easily as you imagine. Killing Cory can gain you nothing, but it could harm you. When the proof of the virus is shown, there are those who will say that Corbella killed Cory for spite and for fear.”
“You’ve seen the virus?” Kash leaped onto those few words.
“I have.” Janotek ignored Nathan’s frantic efforts to keep him from exposing the existence of the Lab. “I’ve seen the place where it was made. I know it exists.”
“If this is so, then the whole picture changes,” Kash admitted, pacing the floor on his short legs. “I have slipped up badly. Where is the place?”
Janotek only smiled. “That, my friend, is a secret, and must remain so. It exists, and that is enough for you to know. Houseman engineered it, and that is enough for you to act upon. Nathan Cory is a lamb compared to the dealings of Houseman. I want him —not because he’s indispensable, but only to serve as a backdrop for me. If you refuse to give him up, I’ll make it very uncomfortable for you and your government.”
“I have something to say in this,” Nathan protested. “I told you that I won’t stand by and watch Paul die. I’ll stay with him.”
“You have nothing to say,” Janotek sighed. “You’ve already bungled enough. You forced me to come here and to lay bare an important factor in my plan—you’ve forced me to convince Kash of something I wanted the Cobellans to doubt. As long as they doubted the existence of the virus, we had the upper hand. Now they have it. From this point on, you do as you’re told.”
Nathan wanted to shout back, but didn’t; he merely listened as they decided his future. Kash finally agreed to let him go, but Paul Houseman was to stay and face his fate. Janotek made a feeble attempt to argue Kash out of the idea—just feeble enough to fail, and just strong enough to convince Kash that Paul’s death was a clever move.
Then Janotek’s slim hand was on Nathan’s shoulder, and he followed the Marikan out. Janotek stopped just short of the door, asking Kash, “I suppose you’ll be searching for the scientists now?” He left the inflection open, and Nathan knew it was to let Kash make what he would of it—decide it was a fool’s play to admit it, or decide that it was the expected course.
Kash didn’t take the bait. “I’ll be looking. And I’ll find it. There’s going to be a new order here. Everyone responsible will pay. There will be no more rebellion on my own doorstep.” His green eyes flashed at Nathan, and there was pure hate in them. “You’ll be sorry you were so clever, Nathan Cory. I let you badger me into making you Delegate—but you’ll pay, too. When the Councilor is through with you, I have my name down as next in line.”
Janotek laughed and led Nathan away. Nathan couldn’t laugh. He was free, but at the price of Houseman’s life, and at the exposure of the Lab. The Cobs would find the Lab if they really looked. They had drugs to force Paul Houseman to tell them. Karl Harris and the others, the virus, and the half-finished rockets, would expose themselves for the hoax they were. Then the Federation would retaliate. Janotek would go down, too, and that was the only consolation.
He stretched his legs, hurrying the pace. Maybe there was still time. He had to get to the Lab.
First there was a good-bye to be said, and Janotek promised to see that a note was delivered, waiting at the desk while Nathan wrote it. Nathan hated every word. They were empty and meaningless, but maybe Paul would understand.
Chapter twelve
Janotek wasn’t anxious about the Lab because he thought that the virus was safely in orbit, and Nathan couldn’t tell him otherwise. He insisted on stopping in Corbella City to buy some suitable clothes for Tass, and it was three and a half hours before they arrived back at camp. Nathan took off at once for the five-mile trek to the Lab.
The Cob air-cars were already around and they started bombing the hill before Nathan arrived. He watched, sick, as the Lab was reduced to shambles. How had they discovered it?
It was dark when he arrived back at camp; he had strength just enough to tell his news to dull ears and fall into bed. The truth must be kept from Janotek —that there had been only one vial of virus, and now it was gone.
It was afternoon before Abby awoke Nathan to tell him that Paul Houseman had been shot that morning, and his body hung on a lamp post on the main comer with a sign of warning. Someone had cut the body down; six men had come to lift it to their shoulders and start a procession down the streets of Cob City. All work stopped. The local television station rushed its cameras to broadcast the picture to the world.
“They loved him, Nathan,’’ Jensen said. “They didn’t care that he had been a Rebel. They didn’t turn against him. I think they are with us now. I think maybe that Earth is united.”
And the Cobs were cracking down. “No one is allowed on the streets, and they’re shooting on sight. These restrictions can’t last long, so I think they’re ready to try something. If you ask me, they’re desperate.”
“Then we’ll have to be prepared for them.” Nathan shook the lethargy off. “They may start with us.”
Two hours later, the whirr of an air-car brought another surprise. At the first sound, Nathan ordered everyone to take cover, assuming command easily, and liking the new authority. But when the car appeared, it was not Cobellan. It settled to the ground, and Nathan halted, amazed, as Gintel climbed out. The tall, bald Councilor appeared extremely self-conscious, his yellow eyes darting about the clearing.
“I’ve come to see Janotek,” he called to Nathan. “I was told that he is here.”
Janotek came out of the cabin, Tass lazily in his wake. He was smiling, and Nathan caught the triumph in it. Gintel had come to him—even to a wild and uncivilized world—and Janotek’s stride was bold and swaggering. “What brings the honorable Councilor from Latz to this forsaken place? Good news, I trust.”
“Don’t fool with me,” Gintel warned. “You’ve turned the galaxy upside down and I’m here to see that something is done.”
Janotek was maddeningly formal, not letting Gintel speak or allowing Nathan to ask the questions he wanted answered. He introduced Gintel around, including Abby and the camp committee.
Finally, Gintel lost patience. “Look, Councilor, my people are hounding me to death. They’re frightened. Our observers are working day and night, trying to spot your damned virus rockets, and the people demand that I do something to guarantee their safety.”
“I know,” Janotek answered. “I had the same situation building on Marik. I left. I see you were wise enough to do the same.”
“The people are one thing,” Gintel said, “but the government is another. I can’t run from them. They want action.”
“Which they will get in full measure, if they don’t come around to my side and back Earth’s petition,” Janotek threatened.
Gintel fought back his temper and tried Nathan.
“Cory, can’t you make him see some sense? You’re responsible for this, too. Your little bomb in Council has split the Federation. It’s cracking! We’re on the verge of galactic war!”
Before Janotek could offer any remarks, Gintel hurried through his news. The Council had split into three sections, not following its old lines of Conservatives, Liberals, and Middle-planets. Now there were those who believed in Earth’s virus and who were influenced by the fright of their people; those who doubted the truth of the whole thing and demanded proof; and those who vowed to stand by the Cobellans on principle, or be insecure on their own colony planets.
“For hundreds of years, we’ve operated on internal rule for colony planets.” Gintel was almost twitching. “Now all of that is shattered. Earth has challenged the old laws. Earth must prove the challenge true! You’ve got to show proof.”
Nathan understood the maze at last. Unless a firm majority was gained in the Council, war would result. And no majority could be gained until the doubters were turned to believers. That needed definite proof, but he had none to give. His bluff had been turned into a great lie, and there was no way out of it any more.
When there was no answer, Gintel said impatiently, “I’m not the only one you’ll be seeing here. I heard that others are coming. You’re in a corner— both of you—and if you’re going to get out of it, you’d better start moving!”
“Calm yourself,” Janotek told him. “Everything is going according to plan. Take a tour of this planet, Gintel, and see for yourself the truth of what we’ve said. See how the Cobellans rule, and see the united front the people show against them.”
Nathan Cory winced at the use of Paul Houseman’s death so soon. Yet, it was what they had needed, what Paul hoped for, and the unity was apparent now.
“Where do you stand, Councilor?” Nathan asked the bald man. “Do you believe?”
“I’m right in the middle, where I’ve always been. I don’t know which way to go. My people and my government …” His voice dropped off in quiet desperation. Then he bounced back with the crux of his doubt. “I know you, Janotek, and you wouldn’t stick your noble neck out so far for nothing. I just about have to believe. But your middle block of planets isn’t solid any more. You can’t count on all of the old votes. And Susmen’s conservatives are frantic. If a vote was called now, it would go for the Cobellans, and Susmen is screaming that it would mean the death of millions of innocent people.”
“And how am I faring in the news?” Janotek asked. “The people’s news sources are proclaiming you the protector of the galaxy. The governments are walking all over you.”
“Then I’ll just have to throw their words right back at them. Be patient, Gintel. I won’t fail you.”
Nathan Cory laughed to himself, bitterly. He was the only one of the lot who knew the real situation, and he couldn’t tell. So while they parried with words and power plays, he had to sit back and listen. But, if nothing else, Earth would go down as the little planet that had rocked the galaxy.
He left the conversation as another air-car droned in and unloaded a short, fat Councilor he had seen at the session but didn’t know. Janotek could double-talk to them. He had other things to do. Cob patrols were thick in the areas since the destruction of the Lab. The forest was crawling with their squat forms, and they were piercing nearer to camp.
He doubted if it meant anything, but he posted extra guards and fast runners. The Cobs couldn’t be trusted any more to act in predescribed ways. Kash was out to clear his name, and his government was out to protect its right to internal authority.
There were four more air-cars before the day was through, and the people of the camp stayed close and quiet, watching the giants of the galaxy stride among their rude homes. Nathan stayed with them, understanding. They were alien, and many even grotesque in shape; and they were the ones who allowed Earth to be squashed and trod upon.
Tass helped Abby prepare stew in the big camp kettle, but her slanted eyes wandered often to Janotek. The Councilor was in his glory, the center of attention, the giver of crumbs to the uninformed, and he was rejoicing in it.
“What’s wrong, Tass?’’ Nathan asked as he sampled the stew. “You look worried.”
She started up, then glanced quickly back to the kettle. “Not really. I just don’t quite understand what he’s up to this time. I feel something dreadful closing in on us, and I’m afraid he’s gone too far.” She shook the doubt away angrily. “He knows what’s he’s doing—he always does. Even you admire him, don’t you, Delegate Cory—right through your hate?”
Nathan began to deny it, then smiled. “So you’ve learned to see into people, too.”
Abby was quiet, her spoon stopped half-way through a stir. She said, unaware of the end of their conversation, “I feel something closing in, too. I don’t know what it is, but something is going to happen, Nathan. I’m uneasy.”
Nathan sighed. “This is too much for one man— two women and their intuition. I’m going back to the miniature Council meeting.” He walked away, then called back, “Put in a little more salt, Abby. Those poor Councilors need a few grains of it with Janotek talking to them.”
Dinner passed and night came down on the woods. Nathan sat with Abby near the fire. The talk among the Councilors had disintegrated to mild conversation about worlds and places he didn’t know, so he felt free to leave them and relax.
Through the trees, the stars glittered in the dark. Stars—worlds—frightened worlds, now; worlds searching their atmospheres for deadly rockets full of disease. Worlds ready to plunge themselves into war over one tiny planet. Through the ground, he could almost feel the throbbing quake of the universe, the uncertainty and shivering that was plaguing the galaxy.
One by one the air-cars lifted and whirred away toward the spaceport. Each departure was a glad relief to Nathan. They reminded him of vultures assembling on some carrion, and Paul’s death was too close.
In the new silence, a whisper quivered out of the dark behind him. “Nathan! Nathan Cory!”
He got up slowly. The whisper advised caution. He went into the woods a few steps, searching the dark for the source of the call.
“Here I am,” the whisper came again. “To your right. It’s me—Karl Harris.”
“Karl!” Nathan pushed through the brush. “You made it!” He shook the thin hand gratefully. “I thought everyone from the Lab was dead.”
Karl was trembling, his face livid in the dimness and frozen in an expression of horror. “I made it— alone.” His voice shook so that the words were un-
controlled. “I crept away when they left. It was a miracle they didn’t find me.”
“Come into camp.” Nathan reached for his arm to help him.
“No! I won’t go where that man is. I told you, Nathan. I told you to keep our secret, but you didn’t, and look what you’ve caused. Everything’s gone. All of the virus that has been growing for years and years —that would have been ready in a few more—it’s all gone. We have nothing now. You have destroyed everything.”
Nathan let him talk it out, accepting the recriminations because they belonged to him. But Karl was clutching something in his hand, something small and black, and he had to know what it was. When the scientist finally wore himself out with the blaming, Nathan took him quietly into the cabin where Abby gave him food. As she reached for the thing in his hand so he could hold his own bowl, he recoiled.
“What is it, Karl?” Nathan kept his voice calm.
“I saved it,” Karl mumbled. “I grabbed it up and guarded it with my soul. I would have died for it, if I’d had to. I won’t let them have it. It’s fifteen years of my life.”
Nathan’s heart jumped with sudden hope, but he forced his tone back to quietness. This man was ready to break and had to be handled carefully. “What is it, Karl? What did you save?”
Harris peered at him, his eyes watery and wide.
“The virus,” he whispered. “The virus asleep in the dark. The one to kill the Cobs like they killed us today.”
His attention strayed and he picked up his bowl, cradling it on his knees as he ate with one hand. Nathan drew Abby aside. “Thank God, he’s got it. We have a chance, after all.”
“But we have to get it from him. He’s liable to do most anything with it, in his state.”
“We can’t take it now. Let him eat. He’ll go right to sleep, and maybe he’ll be rational in the morning. He has to be, Abby. He has our one hope in his hand and he’s got to tell us how to use it.”
Chapter thirteen
With morning and the long sleep, Harris’ talk made sense. He told Nathan about the virus; that it was safe to handle, so long as it was in the black vial; that heat or cold couldn’t hurt it; and that the only way it would spring to life was through light. He had a mad hope to send it to circle the Cobs’ home planet, loosening the seal just enough so that the crash of the rocket would smash the vial and release the deadly germs. But he had no rocket—his feeble attempts at constructing one lay crushed in the dirt by the Lab. Nathan breathed easier, knowing that.
With long argument, Nathan convinced him to put the vial away in the cellar, in their original hiding place, threatening bad results if Janotek should learn of its presence. Harris obeyed reluctantly.
The camp was empty again. Even Janotek was talking of leaving, ready to return to Marik and grant interviews to strengthen his position before the special session was called. Nathan wished he would go. Reports of the Cobs were coming in alarmingly. Patrols were spotted nearer and thicker.
At noon, he received word from his runners that Cob patrols were approaching on two sides, east and west, and heading in fast.
“You don’t think they’re coming here?” Janotek’s confidence was absent for once. “They wouldn’t dare. They know I’m here.”
“And I wish you weren’t,” Nathan shot back. “Yes, I think they’re coming here. Kash has reached the end of his rope. His plan with Paul backfired, Councilors have been coming and going, and he probably sees his career falling to shreds. He’ll want to keep us from coming up with proof for the Council. It’s my bet that he’ll try to clear us out.”
“I didn’t know that I could stir up so much trouble so fast. What do we do?” Janotek was numb with indecision.
“You’re asking me for advice?”
“I’m not used to violence. I’m a civilized man and I’m not used to people who shoot each other. If you have any ideas, say so!”
“We wait,” Nathan answered, sure of himself. “We may be borrowing trouble. But if they do come, we must abandon camp. We can never hold it against them. We can go into Corbella City safely, and probably there will be people to hide us, since Paul brought them around. As for you and Tass—you should get out now.”
