Proteus in the Underworld (33 page)

"There was an answer to that, too. Make a false trail that showed Errol had been shipped off to live on Samarkand—a trail, by the way, that we never found, but I feel sure it's there. Go to Samarkand yourself, a place that the head of BEC would never normally choose to visit. That would 'prove' that Errol was living there.

"And do one other thing, too. Trudy Melford is the absolute ruler of BEC, and she controls BEC's production line. So make slight changes to machines intended for certain high-mutation-rate colonies, changes that would allow a few cases to pass the humanity test when they should have failed it. That became a real concern of mine, when I first suspected what was happening." Bey paused. "Trudy, it could have gone both ways. Did the changes ever
fail
an individual who would otherwise have passed?"

"Never!" Trudy glared back at him. "Do you think I would put some other mother through the hell that I went through? A few feral forms passed. That was all."

"But as a result the humanity test itself came under suspicion and increased criticism. When its results were questioned, Errol would become a little bit safer. The Office of Form Control would 'investigate' the problem, but Denzel Morrone would make sure that the right person was assigned to it."

"Uhhh! The
right
person." Sondra banged her hand on the table. "You mean the
dumb
person. You mean me!"

"Sorry, Sondra. Morrone did it, I didn't. I told you there were things I had to say that you would not like to hear. Anyway, Morrone assigned you. But he remained close to what was happening—too close. I sensed that very early. He was the director of the whole office, and this was a relatively small and apparently unimportant project. Normally a junior staff member would have no direct contact with him. But he had to stay close, because he intended to remove the investigator if she did too well. He would track her activities. At worst, Sondra might be allowed as far as the false trail to Samarkand. But no farther.

"It seemed that nothing could possibly go wrong. And in a sense, it didn't. The fact that Sondra was related to me, and came to see me, was really irrelevant. I had my own work to do. I wasn't about to become involved. But you and I had met before, Trudy, and it seems I have a reputation at the Office of Form Control. Even though I had retired, you were afraid."

"With justice." Trudy gestured to the door through which Rafael Fermiel had taken Errol Melford. "I was afraid, and I had every right to be afraid. You were Bey Wolf, the legendary Bey Wolf. I was afraid of what you might be able to do. I was afraid of something exactly like
this.
And I'm still afraid. Even if you found out that Errol was alive and on Mars, you ought not to have been able to find him. There are five separate links between him and me, and no one should be able to follow the whole chain. How did you do it?"

"I didn't." Bey tapped the sheet of paper sitting on the table in front of him. "Tracking people is not my game. Form-change, theory and practice, is. The humanity test is based on the ability to perform purposive form-change. I have been thinking about that test for more than fifty years, and I have a first-rate reason to do so. Because although I passed the test—obviously, since I am here—I came perilously close to failing. I discussed the problem long ago with Robert Capman, who is known to you by reputation if not in person. We concluded that there is a certain psychological profile which differs a little from the human norm, in specific ways. Individuals with it have real trouble with the humanity test. I have such a quirky profile. So does Capman. And so, I suspected, might Errol Melford."

Bey picked up the sheet of paper and smoothed its creases. "This is not Errol's psychological profile. I did not have his to use. This is my own, as it was when I was four years old. I gave it to Rafael Fermiel, and I asked him to screen the juvenile population records of Old Mars. Not for the usual things, name and parents and residence and personal history, but in terms of psychological profile parameters. I gave Fermiel tolerance ranges for each parameter, and said I wanted to determine any individuals whose profile matched the one that I gave to him within those tolerances. You might say, I was looking for myself at the age of four, or the closest thing to it. I squeaked through, Errol failed. Fermiel came up with five reasonable fits—I want to know more about them—and just one excellent match. I asked him to locate that individual, and bring the person here. He had no idea who he was bringing. I did."

"But now Fermiel knows." It was Sondra, not Trudy, who spoke. "He heard you say the name. You can't ask him to keep quiet, Bey. It's all in the open and everyone is going to find out."

"They are. But can't you see—both of you—that it doesn't
matter
any more? I'm telling you, Errol is going to be all right. He doesn't need to hide."

"But the humanity test. He failed the test. Anyone who fails the test . . ." Trudy spoke softly, her voice trailing away as it came to the unspeakable thought.

"He did. But I have seen Errol, and I am prepared to testify, as former head of the Office of Form Control, that he is a normal human. I am tempted to say, supernormal. Anyway, before people bother Errol Melford they will have to fight their way past me." Bey sat up straighter, unconsciously squaring his shoulders. "Me, and if I have to involve him, Robert Capman. He's in the Logian form, and I'm retired, so maybe some people think
we are not now that strength which in old days moved earth and heaven
—sorry, I seem to be quoting again—but what we have to say still counts in anything involving form-change. The decision-makers will listen to us. They won't touch Errol."

"Are you saying it's over?" Trudy spoke in the uncertain tones of someone unsure that she could believe her own words. "That he can come out of hiding? Errol can live with me all the time, instead of just when the castle is quiet?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"Then . . ." Trudy leaned over and took Bey's hands in hers. "Then I'll say again what I said before. If I have Errol, you have me and everything I possess. No exclusions. Tell me what you want and when you want it."

Bey leaned back a little from the intense stare of those blue-green eyes. He read in them hero worship and unconditional surrender. Even if they were temporary offerings, he was uncomfortable with both. And behind Trudy he could see Sondra, scowling most horribly.

He was saved from an awkward answer by the sound of loud argument outside the room.

"That must be Georgia." Bey stood up in relief. "I didn't intend for her and Rafael to meet without my being present. Wait a minute."

He hurried out. When he returned he was accompanied by Errol Melford, Rafael Fermiel, and a third being that Sondra stared at in disbelief. It was like an obscenely fat kangaroo with the long muzzle of a camel, and it was dressed in snug boots and a form-fitting white suit with pockets all the way down the sides.

Errol at once ran to his mother and sat on Trudy's lap. She hugged him fiercely. Fermiel came to sit at the table opposite Trudy. Oddest of all, the fat kangaroo moved to the end of the table and crouched comfortably on its haunches.

"Introductions," said Bey. He waved his hand. "Sondra Dearborn. Trudy and Errol Melford. Rafael Fermiel. And"—to Sondra's surprise he pointed to the kangaroo—"Georgia Kruskal. Georgia, you've amazed me yet again. You're not wearing a suit."

"I know." Georgia grunted, in a tone an octave lower than usual. "We can operate at these temperatures and pressures for a few hours, but now I'm here I've decided that I don't want to, ever again. Like sitting in a kettle and breathing hot onion soup. Are you going to say why you asked me to come here, or is it all still a big mystery?"

"I'll tell you." Bey sat down at the table between Rafael Fermiel and Georgia Kruskal. "At least, I'll tell you part of it. There are things I still have to sort out, and I can't do most of them until I'm back on Earth.

"I have some bad news for you, Georgia. Some for you, too, Rafael, before you start to gloat. But also some good news for both of you.

"Let me begin where I began: ignorant. Before I came to Mars a couple of months ago I had no idea that there was a war going on here. I only learned it when both sides tried to sign me up as a new recruit. It's not a shooting war, but it's still a real battle. Old Mars versus New Mars, the Underworld against the new forms. The territory at stake is the surface of the whole planet. You, Georgia, like it pretty much the way it is. You, Rafael, conceive it as your sacred duty to make it look just like Earth.

"Now, don't hassle me yet"—the other two were starting to protest—"you'll get your turn later. First, let me tell you who each of you has as your allies. Maybe you'll get a surprise or two. You, Georgia. BEC hasn't been funding you, but they'd do it like a shot if you needed money. Right, Trudy?"

"Right." Trudy nodded at Georgia. "I've been fascinated since I first flew over the surface and learned of your existence. I asked Bey Wolf to learn all he could about you." She turned to him. "That was genuine, you know, nothing to do with—the
other
."

"You can talk about that if you want to—no need to hide any more." Bey turned back to Georgia. "But I doubt if Trudy is as interested as I am. You are the most intriguing new form I've seen in twenty years, even if you are technically illegal. I don't have BEC's money, but you can add me to your list of allies."

"Some things are more important than money." Georgia's broad camel's mouth smirked triumphantly at Rafael Fermiel before she again faced Bey. "You gave me a dozen new ideas in a few hours, things I would never have dreamed of trying. We already have a form-change program for an organic radio transmitter and receiver. We'll try a tank experiment in the next few days."

"I'd like to see it. But now, before you get too uppity, let's talk about the Fermiel camp. First, he has everyone who believes that the Mars Declaration must be honored. You think they are kooks, Georgia, but there are lots of them. They won't go away. Second, Trudy Melford has been sympathetic to Old Mars and the Underworld. And before
you
start looking smug, Rafael, let me tell you that the practical motive for that sympathy went away a few minutes ago. If you want Trudy's support from this point on, you will have to earn it.

"Third, I suspect that you will have my support; but I can't confirm that until I have a conversation with someone who isn't here at the moment. Now here's your bad news, Rafael: even if you have my support, I suspect that you are going to lose part of your funding. You won't have enough in the future to do anything that you like. I'm thinking especially about the terraforming. It may have to slow down."

"But the Mars Declaration—"

"Is a piece of paper, like any other. It needs to be interpreted in today's terms, not those of a century or two centuries ago."

Rafael Fermiel's red beard jutted pugnaciously at Bey. "You'll never persuade the Old Mars policy council of that."

"Quite right, I won't.
You
will. And Georgia Kruskal will help you."

"Wait a minute." Georgia rose up from her haunches. "If you think I'm going to work with a bunch of wombats like the Old Mars flapheads—"

"I do. I expect you and Rafael to sit down and work out a way of doing things together. This is one planet, with one future. You can't both win. You have to cooperate."

"And if we don't?"

"Then I'll make a prediction. No, I'll make a
promise
." Bey stared from one to the other in frustration. "If you two don't find a way to work together, I'll pull my own support from both sides, including my technical input on the surface forms. Trudy will take all BEC support away. I'll do my best to make sure that every cent of outside funding that goes to Old Mars dries up at once. And I'll set the Office of Form Control going on an investigation of Mars illegal forms."

Fermiel frowned at Georgia Kruskal. "He's threatening us—both of us."

"He can't do that!"

They turned in unison to glare at Bey.

"I can, you know." Bey stared right back at them. "I just did. God, if you only knew how I hate laying down the law like this to anybody. I'm
retired
, for God's sake—and I couldn't stand this sort of stuff when I wasn't.
The expense of spirit in a waste of shame.
There I go again. Sorry, but I've had it. Trudy, you're the Empress. Take over. Bang their heads together, make them compromise. You asked me what I wanted from you, and I'm telling you. Make these two see reason. Me, I'm heading for Earth."

"You can't do that!" This time it seemed that everyone in the room spoke in unison. The only exception was Errol Melford, who was still staring in fascination at Georgia Kruskal's animated snout and wobbling layers of body fat.

"I can." Bey stood up and started for the door. "It's my home, I have unfinished business there, and I'm going. Sondra, if you want to see this thing through to the finish you should come with me."

"What are you going to do?" Sondra hurried after him.

"We're done with the easy stuff." Bey turned at the threshold. It was a strange tableau. Everyone was frozen and silent at the table, watching his departure. He nodded to them. The nod said,
Don't waste your time gaping at me, you have work to do. Get to it
!

He spun around with Sondra at his side.

"Now we have to tackle the hard part."

CHAPTER 22

"What you are telling me," said Sondra, "is that the humanity tests are no damned good."

"Not quite that." The fast-moving skimmer was approaching Wolf Island, and Bey was squinting ahead in the late afternoon sun for a first sight of home. "It's fine in almost every case; but occasionally, maybe one time in a billion, it misses. The trouble is, when it does fail it's in the worst possible way."

"Humans are judged non-human?"

"Right. I mean, it's no big deal if an occasional feral form is passed as human, like the ones in the colonies. That's a pretty trivial problem."

Bey ignored Sondra's outraged gasp of protest. A lopsided pyramid of rock had come into view, jutting above the swelling ocean surface, and he was staring at it with satisfaction.