Barry Longyear - Enemy Papers

There were some enigmatic Drac phrases that began to make some sense. "Greeted with all doors open" and "Greeted with all doors closed" described the degree of trust and intimacy a host extends to a visitor. The greeting room was bare, providing nothing more than a place to stand and talk. The entertainment room had deep, soft chairs and couches. The central door of the greeting room, and the door to the entertainment room being open was an invitation for a longer stay. A still longer stay was invited by the toilet room being open. Bathing, sleeping, and meditation rooms being open described more intimate invitations about which she could only speculate.

After her initial inspection, she entered the meditation room, closed the door, and settled on the cushions in the center of the room to await the call to the night repast.

She had been sitting for a few minutes, quietly trying to relax, when the room seemed to fill with a dim green light marbled with blacks and lighter greens. Her hands immediately went to her eyes, but her hands could not block out the light. The light was inside her head.

Again she relaxed and allowed the lights to move at random. There was a slightly drugged feeling, then a feeling of all-encompassing calm. One-by-one she could feel tense muscles relax, her body going limp…

…There were the happy moments with Mallik, seen through a lens that would admit no pain. She opened to it and her being was flooded with love.

And their child swelling in her abdomen.

Mallik’s head against the swelling, listening.

"You can’t hear anything yet, Mallik; it’s too soon."

His head burrowed his ear more deeply into her abdomen while his hand stole between her legs.

"If this is Mallik Nicole’s child, it will be an early riser."

She laughed as she reached down to touch his face…

…there was a moment at Storm Mountain; a moment of love, pride, fierce unshackled joy.

Death covered the slopes, but the Tsien Denvedah was falling back. Her command hadn’t a prayer of getting relief; they knew that another attack was coming that would crush them; they knew that most of them would be dead before the next two hours elapsed-

-but the Tsien Denvedah was falling back.

The hoots and catcalls started in the emplacements to her left. In seconds all of Storm Mountain was shouting insults at the retreating Dracs; her own voice joining the tumult.

The Tsien Denvedah was falling back!

It was another-a stronger-form of love than that between a man and woman. They were a blood and mud spattered brotherhood that had met the enemy and had turned them back. They had been dipped in fire and had survived to see the Drac Infantry pulling back.

Morio Taiseido collapsed beside her, his voice hoarse.

"Major, I could die content at this moment. We whipped them! Holy son of a bitch, we whipped them!"

…The lights came back and part of Joanne Nicole’s brain asked another part if this joy was the appeal to battle; to war. If it was the truth, it would be an impossible motivation to treat rationally.

The rules were out; the ultimate consequences were out; nothing was in mind except the fact that the Dracs were falling back. In that minuscule particle of time, they were victorious…

…And then, as though it were being played before her upon a stage, she remembered The Story of Lita in the Koda Ovsinda.

Lita had invented a game for the students to play. One of the students was selected by chance to begin the game, and its first move was to invent the first three rules of the game. And the game-the rules-could be anything.

The next player could proceed according to those first three rules, or could invent another rule. The rules and rule changes were never communicated except by the nature of the play. The rules and rule changes must be deduced from the actions of those who invented the rules. Even that which constituted "winning" changed from one minute to the next.

The most successful tactic was to understand all of the rules up until your turn, and then invent a rule or criterion of winning that negated the regulatory advantages invented by the previous players.

By the time the play came around to Lita there was an impossible tangle of rules, stated, implied, most of them invisible. And then Lita would win the game by stating:

"I win."

A student would always protest. "Jetah, you cannot win. The structure of rules that has been built does not allow it."

"It most certainly does allow it. The rule I have invented is that when the play comes to my turn, I win."

"But, Jetah, the first player could have done the same. Any of us could have done it."

"Yes, but I did-it first."

The green lights in her head died and became a warm, soft blackness. And there was a voice. It was Baadek’s. "Joanne Nicole, it is time for the night repast."

She sat in wonder for a moment at the things she had seen. She stood up, made her way to the meditation room door and opened it. "Baadek?"

"I am here." The voice was very close. "When you use the meditation room in the future, should you not want to be disturbed, close the outside entrance to your apartment."

"Thank you. What is in the meditation room that allowed me to see the things that I saw?"

"Only your own mind. The design of the room is an ancient one, conducive to looking at oneself."

"The lights, the green lights were so real."

"Usually the lights are blue-for Dracs."

Nicole began feeling her way toward the corridor, but Baadek’s hand stopped her. "What is the matter, Baadek?"

"Understand, Joanne Nicole, that I have no love for humans."

"Who asked you to?"

There was a brief silence. "As an individual, I feel an obligation toward you. Be very careful at the night repast. Tora Soam’s guests tonight include five Talman masters and a human. I cannot even guess at their roles, nor yours."

"Baadek, why this warning, from one who has no love for humans?"

For just a moment, the Drac seemed to laugh. "I am no student of convoluted rules and gaming, Joanne Nicole. I am a simple creature of loyalty. Because of my loyalty to the Tora estate, I look upon myself as the protector of Tora Kia. Tora Kia has my loyalty. Because of your cooperation in this protection, my loyalty is extended to you as well-to a degree."

She paused. "Baadek, I appreciate your warning, but I do not understand. What are you warning me about?"

"It is hard for me to see. But I would not want you to betray yourself-the things that you value. I think that tonight you will be in an excellent position to do just that."

After walking the many twists and turns of the corridors, Baadek and Nicole entered a series of connected chambers that were sufficiently large that their footsteps and words caused echoes. It was in one of those chambers that she heard voices and smelled rich cooking. It was there that Tora Soam met them.

"Does the night find you well, Joanne Nicole?"

"Yes, it does."

"Excellent." Tora Soam paused and Nicole heard its robes move. "And, as I promised you, here is your surprise."

More footsteps. "Hi, Major."

"Benbo?" Nicole reached out her hands. "Benbo?"

"Right here, Major." A pair of hands touched her shoulders.

Some great knotted thing inside of her dissolved, making her legs limp. Benbo quickly grabbed her arms to keep her from falling to the stone floor.

Tora Soam’s voice came very close, an edge of concern in it.

"Joanne Nicole, are you ill?" Its voice changed direction. "She is just released from the Chirn Kovah."

Benbo spoke. "I think she is well, Ovjetah. It is just that we have gone through much together, and that it has been a long time since we met last."