Silence is Deadly (24 page)

He enlarged it until those suns with planets had noticeable pinpricks of light circling them. Then he adjusted his chair to semi-reclining and lay back to let the computer play detective for him. The sector was thinly populated with stars. Ninety-five per cent of the inhabited planets were at the same technological level as Kamm or lower. Darzek described the Duke Lonorlk’s crude electrical generator and asked which worlds in that slice of the galaxy boasted civilizations capable of supplying designs for it. Eight pinpoints of light began to blink rapidly.

Six were widely scattered. The other two were Kamm’s neighboring solar systems. Scowling, Darzek punched buttons and put the file to work. The suns were Arrn and Zwentlax. Arrn had two habitable planets; Zwentlax had one, named Zruan.

“Interesting,” Darzek muttered, “but I wish I knew why.”

He described the strange metal detector he had taken from the phony black knights and asked which worlds could have created it. The blinking pinpoints of light dropped to four. Those of Arrn and Zwentlax were still among them.

He punched another question. “Which worlds have achieved space flight?”

The blinking pinpoints of light dropped to two: the worlds of Arrn and Zwentlax. Darzek amended the question to interstellar flight, and there was no response.

“Those blithering bureaucratic butanones!” Darzek said furiously. An Uncertified World with space flight capabilities required a crisis rating. Here were two that actually had achieved space flight without a change of status. As a result, they almost certainly had gone on to interstellar flight without the Synthesis’s understaffed observation teams noticing.

He turned again to the projection. The three suns, Arrn, Gwanor, and Zwentlax, lay almost in a straight line, with Gwanor close to the midpoint. This meant that Kamm, the Silent Planet, could serve as a convenient halfway station on a space trip from the Zwentlaxian system to the Arrnian system.

Now he knew the source of the two kinds of aliens on Kamm and what they wanted there. It remained for him only to identify which aliens were in league with which dukes, and another question of the file accomplished that. The Duke of OO’s guest with the massive, encircling ear came from the Arrnian Union, the two planets of the sun Arrn that possessed a single government. Darzek had not seen the Duke Merzkion’s guests, but Captain Wanulzk’s description of their high-set, circular ears was certain indication that they came from Zruan.

How could the Department of Uncertified Worlds have perpetrated such a massive blunder? No doubt the technologies of both civilizations were fumblingly inept by Synthesis standards, and someone in the department had considered them so remote from mastering interstellar travel that they were not even given the required crisis rating. The Department of Uncertified Worlds did not care how much an Uncertified World mucked about the ash heaps of its own solar system.

“Never underestimate the capabilities of
any
intelligence,” Darzek murmured. Someone had, and now this quiet, technologically disadvantaged sector was in grave danger of becoming the setting for an interstellar war.

Unfortunately for the world of Kamm, its location almost midway between the budding space powers made it a potential battleground. No doubt the interstellar capabilities of both powers were limited. Neither could get at the home worlds of the other without Kamm, without a place to refuel and supply.

Darzek punched more buttons and found a mineral survey of Kamm. The planet’s resources were mediocre, but there were uranium deposits in the central mountains of the island of Storoz. If one of the space powers gained permission to mine and process the uranium, it could attack the home bases of its rival. Each of the powers would realize that it had to control Kamm or deny it to the other, for its own protection.

Darzek turned his attention to the solar configurations beyond Kamm. If one of these powers occupied Kamm and managed to knock off the other, it might start on a rampage of spacial conquest that would carry it all the way to the sector boundary and beyond. The inhabited planets it would encounter were primitively civilized at best and would constitute easy pickings for a power with space capabilities. And when that power finally collided with a member of the Galactic Synthesis, it would be master of an interstellar empire and a conqueror to reckon with.

But the
if
was a formidable one, and so was the might. Considering the cost and tedium of primitive interstellar travel, few developing worlds would conceive of such a program of conquest or be able to follow through on it if they did. Subduing one world, even a world without technology, could take generations. Even if one of the powers produced a military genius, this Napoleon of the spaceways would not live long enough to do much damage, time and distance being the formidable factors they were in primitive space travel.

But the threat to Kamm was genuine.
Now
Darzek knew why Supreme had listed it as a potential trouble spot! The Galactic Synthesis took a rather aloof attitude toward the internal wars of Uncertified Worlds, but an interstellar war was a different matter. Kamm must be protected. Arrn and Zruan, neither of which was in a position as yet for overt military action, were attempting to secure the bases they needed through corrupt political maneuvering. They had to be defeated resoundingly and then dealt with on their home worlds.

“And that,” Darzek told himself, “takes care of everything except the pazul.” There was no evidence that the Duke of OO had one. Therefore it must have been brought from Zruan, by the allies of the Dukes Merzkion and Fermarz.

Without expecting any result, Darzek punched out the word,
pazul,
and the computer screen immediately flashed a memo from Rok Wllon himself that shocked Darzek.

Synthesis agents had failed to learn of the interstellar travel potentials on Arrn and Zruan, but when a suspected pazul occurred on the backward world of Kamm, they weren’t so stupid as to overlook the possibility that it came from a neighboring solar system. Their department had gone to considerable trouble and risk to enter and search the most secret weapons and research and development centers in both civilizations, and their conclusions were irrefutable. Neither Arrn nor Zruan had a death ray.

The pazul, whatever it was, belonged exclusively to Kamm.

* * * *

Darzek returned to Northpor, wrote more reports, tried to figure out how to make the communications equipment work, and waited for someone, anyone, to bring him a snippet of information he could act upon.

The news from OO was alarming. The Duke of OO had dared to challenge the Sailor’s League. The port of OO had been closed permanently, and the sailors expected retaliatory measures against the Free Cities. Some of Darzek’s Northpor neighbors were moving their families to Free Cities on the mainlands.

Reports from OO were tediously out of date and consisted mostly of gossip picked up by itinerant vendors who had been turned away by border guards but managed to acquire a rumor or two in the process. Darzek spread a net to pick up every scrap of information available, but in none of it did he find a useful snippet.

While he waited, he put Hadkez to work on the problem of his human scent, and he began to train Sajjo as a Synthesis agent. The child already had demonstrated an exceptional aptitude. Darzek told her to find out anything she could about the Dukes of Storoz or the Protector, and thereafter she prowled the mart, peeking in on conversations of visitors from other cities or provinces. Whenever she could, she asked questions. In this way they gradually built up character profiles of all of the dukes, but the Protector remained enigmatic. Sajjo never heard him mentioned.

Interesting as some of this information was, nothing actually intriguing turned up until Sajjo related an unexpected discovery about the Duke Borkioz, the elderly, senile duke of the southernmost province. It was rumored that he had moved from his own province to the Free City of Midpor and taken a palatial dwelling there for himself, his family, and his retainers.

Darzek reviewed his notes on the Duke Borkioz. He wondered if there was a coup in the process, and the old duke had been deposed or sent to safety. Either way it was an oddity, and he told Sajjo to ask travelers from the south about their duke.

Then a totally unexpected visitor arrived: a rather wan Captain Wanulzk.

Darzek greeted him warmly.
It grieved me to hear of your captivity,
he told him.
Especially so since I was responsible. I felt that I should stay in OO and do something about it, but your sailors thought I would be more hindrance than help.

The captain gestured indifferently.
The Duke of OO has never loved the League. If the eruption set off by you and your daughter had not served as his excuse, he would have found another. But he moved against us impulsively, and it has cost him dearly.

The League had closed the port of OO and assessed a colossal fine against the duke for his violation of agreements and his imprisonment of the captain and other sailors. The fine was increased daily. The duke defiantly refused to pay and demanded ransom for the release of the sailors he held. During this standoff, the economy of OO had disintegrated. The duke had to guard his borders—not against invasion, but against exodus. The artisans, in particular, were dependent on the export of their products, and they began to slip away surreptitiously with their families and set up their workshops in adjoining provinces.

Finally the duke’s advisers prevailed upon him to make peace before his province was completely ruined. He paid his fines, for which he had to borrow funds from other dukes and his brother.

But it’ll take the Province of OO years to recover,
the captain said.
The artisans who escaped won’t be returning soon. Those who remained will leave the moment they can do so safely. Customers for all of OO’s products and produce have had to find other sources, and they won’t be changing back at once. The duke professes not to care. He thinks that when he becomes king, he will close the Free Ports and bring the Sailor’s League into subservience.

Ah! Then he’s convinced that he will be chosen king?

Those who are close to him think he will, the captain said gloomily.

And you think the king will he chosen by lot. Have you found out how this lottery will work?

No,
the captain said.
It is thought that only the dukes know. And, of course, the Protector and his superior knights.
He paused.
So
I really have nothing more of interest to tell you, except for an adventure of our friend Nijezor, the perfumer. And a message from our friend Bovranulz.

Bovranulz?
Darzek exclaimed.
Is he still in OO?

Indeed he is. But he sends you a message, thanks to Nijezor. The message is that he anticipates with joy the reunion you and he will have in Midpor.

I regret that I cannot thank him in person,
Darzek said.
Of course I have no intention of going to Midpor.

The captain smiled.
Obviously some occasion for such a journey will arise, since Bovranulz says he will see you there. But let me tell you of the perfumer’s adventure.

Nijezor had been arrested by black-capes as he attempted to leave the harbor the morning following Darzek’s departure from OO. But he had been treated with utmost consideration the moment he identified himself, and instead of being taken to the dungeon, he was taken to the presence of the duke himself, and the duke personally gave him a commission.

The strangest I have ever undertaken,
the perfumer told Captain Wanulzk afterward.
The duke asked for as many varieties as I could contrive of the most unpleasant scents possible.

Unpleasant?
Darzek exclaimed.

That was the duke’s very word,
Captain Wanulzk said.
He specified the usual requirements for quality scents—especially that they must he long-lasting and of persistent strength. He told Nijezor that a scent that diminished in power quickly would he of no use to him. Nijezor had no choice but to comply. He was required to move his factory to the castle and work there. He says he never suffered so much in his life. He was constantly watched by black-capes, and he was required to deliberately produce and then test a long series of olfactory catastrophes.

Darzek expressed his sympathy.
And was Nijezor able to please the duke? he asked.

Only after arduous labor,
the captain said.

Nijezor had prepared fifteen scents of horrendous unpleasantness. The duke took the samples overnight, and then he returned with the one that pleased him the most—it was number twelve—and he asked Nijezor to prepare several different varieties of that scent. Nijezor did so. The duke returned with one of them—it was number forty-seven—and made the same request again. And again.

Captain Wanulzk heaved a sigh of sympathy for his friend’s ordeal.
It went on through three hundred and twenty-two samples,
his hands announced awesomely.
Number three hundred and twenty-two satisfied the duke completely, and Nijezor made a huge quantity of it—two full crock-measures. Enough scent to infuse the entire population of OO with ugliness. The duke rewarded him with enormous and unaccustomed generosity and ordered him to say nothing of his experiments to anyone. But why the duke requires such a stench Nijezor cannot say, and neither can I.