The Best of All Possible Worlds (7 page)

Darithiven smiled the slightly condescending smile of a man who is prepared to humor
his opponent but not to yield the argument. “Your disciplines are indeed impressive.
Your pilots use them to navigate ships on interstellar routes, and because of them
all Sadiri have acquired a reputation for impartiality and diligence. Even now, our
systems of justice and scientific endeavor continue to be headed by Sadiri. But here
we live simpler lives, with less to trouble our minds. We need only enough self-control
to maintain a harmonious society.” He extended his arms, embracing the view of his
settlement and his people like a proud father.

Dllenahkh actually hesitated before replying. “Your settlement is indeed well organized
and efficiently run. But there is more to the world, to the universe, than these waters.
Perhaps you do not wish to explore the galaxy yourself, but what of your children
and your children’s children? The earlier certain things are taught—”

The Chief Councillor shook his head and interrupted gently. “I hope you are not implying
that we limit our children by what we teach or do not teach. We have our own version
of the disciplines, and they are not lacking in rigor. It is simply that our goals
differ. Is that so inappropriate?”

By this time, I’d be almost slipping into the water from boredom as they went back
and forth on the question of the scope and purpose of the Sadiri disciplines. I could
see Darithiven’s point. To tell the truth, this was one of the sleepiest settlements
I’d ever encountered. People kept to themselves, not in an unfriendly fashion but
as if truly uninterested in our presence. We saw them coming and going—men up to the
river to fish, women to the nearby rice paddies and the other crop fields south of
the marshes, the remainder busy at home with their arts, crafts, studies, or whatever
else they chose to occupy themselves with. Whatever form of mental discipline they
employed, it clearly worked for them. The settlement had the same atmosphere of measured
efficiency that I’d encountered on the Sadiri homesteadings of my own province.

“How are the talks going?” I asked Dllenahkh.

His eyes lit up. “It has been most intriguing. They are, of course, quite attached
to their simplified variant of the disciplines, but I believe in time some of them
could be persuaded to return to the orthodox methods practiced by most Sadiri.”

I gave him a look. “Mmm-hm. So will your guys come here or will they go to you?”

“They would encourage males from our homesteadings to come here and are willing to
send in exchange groups that would be mostly female.”

“Sounds reasonable. Well done,” I congratulated him.

I was a little chagrined, actually. I’d been so cynical about this mission, and here
we were, already third-time lucky. It wasn’t storybook perfect—I could tell they’d
be debating for generations to come—but at least there was a foundation.

Dr. Daniyel told us
at our evening meeting that it was time to wrap up and move on to explore other areas.
Dllenahkh, Nasiha, and Tarik reluctantly agreed. When I looked at their faces, I remembered
Dllenahkh saying to me that all Sadiri shared a low-level telepathic bond. If that
were indeed the case, visiting the marshes of Candirú must have been like being immersed
in a constant buzz of subtle connection. I could understand why they would be hesitant
to leave.

Joral didn’t want to leave at all. “I have already identified two potential candidates
for betrothal in the five days we have been here. Surely it would be worthwhile for
me to remain and gather more anthropological data. This could assist our homesteaders
in making an informed choice as to whether they should remove here or no.”

Dr. Daniyel shot a sharp look at Dllenahkh, which he missed
because he was already frowning at Joral. I smiled to myself, waiting to hear him
tell the young Sadiri to be patient, to remain disciplined, and to focus on the mission.

“Joral,
no
.”

“But Councillor Dllen—”

“I said no.”

Lian and I looked at each other, ludicrously wide-eyed with shock and amusement. Dr.
Daniyel’s lips twitched, but she said nothing.

That was when the commotion started outside: shouting, the thud of running steps on
the wood of the boardwalk, a woman’s scream.

Fergus was first out, Lian close behind, but we all scrambled to see what the fuss
was about. There was still sunlight at that hour, though the long shadows of the trees
and houses darkened the waters. A small fishing boat was drawing up to one of the
walkways. The smell that came from it was not the odor of gutted fish but the strong
metallic tang of blood. A hand trailed carelessly over the side into the water, and
the sickly gray hue that overcast the skin was visible even from where we stood. People
gathered around, and the shouts grew louder.

“What’s happening?” said Dr. Daniyel at my ear.

“Their boat was attacked,” I said, listening and translating the fragmented, overlapping
speech into a coherent explanation. “There’s another settlement off a tributary upriver,
and they’ve quarreled over fishing rights for some time, it seems. I … I think that
man’s dead. They’re talking about going to the other settlement for …”

I paused. I couldn’t believe the word I had just heard. I’d heard the words in Sadiri
separately but never together, and so it was with a panicked glance at Dllenahkh that
I said, “Blood price? Price for blood? Price
in
blood?”

Dllenahkh gave me a look I could not understand. Sorrow? Shame? But he did not correct
me.

“There’s Darithiven,” said Nasiha suddenly.

It was indeed the Chief Councillor of the settlement, and he had to pass us to reach
the fishing boat. His gaze flashed across to us, he hesitated, then he appeared to
make a decision and came toward us.

“May we be of assistance, Chief Councillor Darithiven?” Dr. Daniyel asked immediately.

He was already shaking his head. “A small matter, a local matter. It is nothing new.
We can manage without outside interference.”

I grabbed the hard muscle of Fergus’s arm. A muted glint of edged metal had appeared
amid the crowd—and there again, a blade in one hand, a spear in another.

“I see it,” Fergus said gruffly. He exchanged a look with Lian, and I saw them release
the catches on their holsters and adjust their pistols to a high but nonlethal setting.

Darithiven saw it too, and his expression was resigned but approving. “You have your
own security. That is wise. Now I must leave you. There is much anger here, and it
must be appropriately directed. We have had too many incursions into our waters, and
it is time to deal with the culprits sternly.”

“There are other, civilized ways of dealing with the matter,” Dllenahkh insisted.

Darithiven looked at him with pity. “Then, by your definition, this cannot be civilization.”

He strode off toward the gathering mob.

Nasiha inhaled sharply and began to whisper to Tarik. Their stance changed from relaxed
stillness to defensive tension as they drew closer to each other.

“What is it?” I demanded. Their behavior irritated me. Perhaps
it was because they were both spouses and colleagues, but they were such an annoyingly
cozy little self-contained unit.
My
Sadiri, as I had labeled Dllenahkh and Joral in my head, understood the simple courtesy
of explaining themselves from time to time.

“They are making themselves angry,” Dllenahkh muttered, profoundly disturbed, as he
stared at the growing crowd. “They have lowered mental shields to each other and are
projecting and augmenting a desire to fight and kill.”

Suddenly, his head snapped to Joral, who stood stiffly, breathing heavily, his fists
clenching spasmodically at his sides. “Joral! Remember your disciplines!”

“It is … difficult, Councillor Dllenahkh,” Joral admitted.

“Stand with Commander Nasiha and Lieutenant Tarik,” Dllenahkh ordered.

Before I could ask him why he didn’t follow his own advice, he started off in the
direction of the crowd, saying, “I must stop this.”

“No!” shouted Dr. Daniyel.

To my shock, Dllenahkh ignored her and walked on. I wavered, eyeing her, hoping for
permission, however subtly conveyed, to go after him. Instead she did the sensible
thing and actually followed our mission protocols. “Lian, Fergus, get everything essential
into the punts. We must get ready to leave as soon as possible. Delarua, find Darithiven
for me. I have a few things to say to him.”

I noticed that she did not issue orders to Tarik and Nasiha, but she did give them
one of her sharp looks. It seemed to break them out of their cocoon because they started
to help Lian and Fergus while keeping an eye on Joral. He followed them meekly, still
looking shaky.

I dashed off along a path, already knowing where to go.
Darithiven was not far away. He stood on the balcony of his residence and surveyed
the scene below with an unsettling expression. It was not peace exactly, but … satisfaction?
A sense of seeing something come to pass that had been planned for a long time? As
I halted halfway up the steps, he looked down his nose at me as if I were something
small and unimportant come to bother him. I glared back. I would not allow him to
forget that whatever rank he held in his own little patch of marsh, Dr. Daniyel and
I represented the government that allowed him to exercise that rank.

“The Commissioner wishes to speak to you,” I growled. “Now.”

Dr. Daniyel was waiting on the central platform. She stood meditatively with arms
folded and head slightly bowed. She looked calm and resolute. I knew she was tired.

“Thank you, First Officer Delarua. Please inform Councillor Dllenahkh that we are
ready to leave. Lian, go with Delarua.”

As we rushed off, I heard her begin to speak to Darithiven in the slow, disappointed
tones of a scolding parent. “As it seems you can no longer guarantee the safety of
my team …”

“Where
is
Dllenahkh?” Lian said, glancing about nervously.

I stared. I couldn’t see him either, and I didn’t relish going into the middle of
that loud, surging mass.

“There!” I pointed to the edge of the crowd.

He had stepped up onto a low balcony and was speaking with two of the older men. Their
faces were masks of bitter fury, his a study in intense determination, as if he expected
to persuade them through sheer force of will. I shouted to him, my voice thin and
distant in all the noise, and he did hear me, but he looked at me with a brief, dismissing
glance and went back to his argument.

“Damn,” I said.

“Let me,” Lian said grimly.

Long soldier strides took Lian to Dllenahkh’s side in seconds. I followed close behind.

“Come with us, Councillor Dllenahkh. The Commissioner’s orders,” Lian said simply
and quietly.

“Not yet, Lian, I must—”

“Not a request, Councillor Dllenahkh,” Lian replied.

It was only when I saw Dllenahkh flinch ever so slightly that I realized Lian had
nudged the pistol into his ribs. His lips pressed together, the one angry sign in
a face that refused even now to lose control. “I see,” was all he said.

“Let’s go,” I squeaked, agitated by the atmosphere around us, and we walked away briskly,
unchallenged and unmolested in the growing maelstrom of anger that was, thankfully,
not directed at us.

It felt like a retreat. It was all done according to procedure, but it felt like a
retreat. Lian sent off a preliminary bulletin to the nearest government outpost so
that the situation could be monitored by the appropriate authorities. Dr. Daniyel
sent a more detailed report the moment we returned to the shuttle. Nasiha, Tarik,
and poor Joral were clearly relieved, their condition improving the farther we traveled
from the marshes. Fergus was pleased that the bug-out drill he had insisted on had
been used so early in the mission and had worked so well. Dllenahkh …

I didn’t dare look at Dllenahkh. When I finally, furtively glanced at him just as
the shuttle was taking off, his face was impassive, his demeanor as calm and controlled
as ever. I knew he felt my gaze, but he did not meet my eyes.

We flew for a little less than an hour before landing near our next destination, a
bit of savanna country farther south. Fergus set out perimeter alarms while we wearily
put up our shelters and sought sleep. We did everything right. It still felt like
a retreat.

———

When I woke up
the next morning, emotion came before memory, so my first coherent thought was to
wonder if it was a hangover that had me feeling so miserable. Then I remembered the
previous day and felt thoroughly sick. I pulled myself together, freshened up, and
went to see if Dr. Daniyel needed me for anything, but Lian said she was still sleeping,
so I went away again with a vague idea of checking on Joral. He was sitting in a meditation
posture in the doorway of the shelter he shared with Dllenahkh. I hesitated when I
saw him, not wanting to disturb him, especially given the mental turmoil he had so
recently experienced. I must have trodden too heavily, however, for he opened his
eyes and stared at me.

“First Officer Delarua,” he said.

“Joral. Are you well?” I asked formally and in Sadiri.

“I am well,” he replied in a steady voice. Before I could exhale in relief, he continued,
“But Councillor Dllenahkh will not get up.”

“Beg pardon?” I said in Standard, genuinely confused as to his meaning.

Still speaking Sadiri, Joral tried for greater precision. “It is possible that he
is awake, but his eyes are not open, he is not moving, and his mind … his mind is
closed.”

I stood still, completely at a loss. “What do you want me to do?”

“I do not know,” he replied with simple honesty.

“Nasiha, Tarik—” I began.

“He would not wish them to see him like this.”

Something about the way he said it gave me a clue. “This has happened before,” I accused
him, a statement, not a question.