James White - Federation World

“No,” the First said sharply. “They are small, widely scattered groups who will not be affected for many days. They are not easily accessible to my vehicles which, at the present time, are being more productively employed elsewhere. There is no need to worry them at this stage and, in the present situation, a certain number of casualties must be accepted.”

‘ “There is no acceptable number of casualties,” Martin replied firmly. “I’ll ask the doctor to explain what is happening, and get them moving toward the nearest centers. If necessary we can provide transport.”

“No,” the First said angrily. “I will do what is necessary.”

“Very well,” Martin said. “Will you also instruct the eight groups who are converging on the same induction center to sort themselves out? Five of them have much less distant shelters available.”

There was a moment’s silence, then the First said, “The convergence is deliberate. They are special members of my Family, trusted and able, who I wish to have around me for protection against dissidents and as a nucleus of the organization which will restore order after the present emergency is past. They are well-trained and capable of moving quickly enough to escape the fallout.

‘To avoid overcrowding,” he added, “no other groups are being directed to that center.”

“Wait,” Martin said.

He asked Beth to display close-range aerial views of the groups concerned, which included a very large one containing the First himself. The Keidi leader shared a vehicle with what were presumably his granddaughter, her life-mate and the newborn, but everyone else was on foot. They were all mature young Keidi, fit and fast-moving in spite of being heavily armed. The older and very young members of their settlements, he saw, had been left behind with a few vehicles and had just enough time to reach the nearer induction centers.

“That is the nucleus of a military organization,” Beth said suddenly. “Those groups are composed of his trusted guards and handpicked bullboys who are going to turn their center into a fort. If those groups join the First, well, there’ll be long-term trouble. You’ve got to divert them to other centers, quickly.”

“No,” Martin said. He wanted to explain that forcing the groups to go to other centers would require direct intervention on a large scale, of a type which would cause fear, conflict, and a considerable loss of time and therefore of life. And there was also a strong probability that they would not be diverted, that the Keidi leader knew that Martin would not kill any of them by forbidding entry to any center when the fallout radiation reached lethal levels, and that the First would simply call his bluff. But there was no time for explanations and the arguments which would follow them. Instead he went on, “No, but we’ll let him know that we know what he’s up to, and pull his teeth.”

To the First he said, “We can see that all the members of your eight special groups are heavily armed. Weapons may not be taken inside an induction center, and the entrance sensors and protective devices will make no exceptions. The weapon carrier will also be excluded until the weapon is discarded. Is this understood?”

“But a person in my position needs guards,” the First protested. “A few, at least, for personal protection. Your interference, and the things the doctor is saying about the detonations, have placed my life in danger.”

“You will be surrounded only by friends,” Martin said dryly, “since you have already arranged that potential enemies l>e directed away from your center. But they will be unarmed friends, and I suggest that your people discard their weapons now rather than carry them to be left outside the center.”

Angrily, the First shouted, “So you would exclude my family and friends, and sentence to a lingering death the Keidi who love and wish only to protect me?”

“Your armed friends exclude themselves,” Martin said quietly, and broke the connection.

Beth’s attention was divided between her console and the big sensor screen, but there was enough of it free to tell Martin what she thought of him.

“I don’t understand you,” she said vehemently. “You should have split up the First’s guards, destroyed his organization before it could take shape. Disarming them won’t do any permanent good because, to adapt the old Earth expression, there are no dangerous weapons, only dangerous Keidi. Now you’re putting ail the bad eggs into one stinking basket, and the smell will eventually cover the whole planet as it was beginning to do before we arrived, except that it will be one of the First’s heirs setting up a military dictatorship instead of him. You should have split them up, dammit, in the hope that the other, more normal Keidi would have absorbed and perhaps had a civilizing influence on them. Instead you’ve gone for a sick compromise!”

“Have you finished?” Martin asked.

“No,” Beth replied angrily, “but the doctor is waking up.”

The Keidi medic wakened complaining of hunger. Beth ordered a large helping of synthesized and nutritionally balanced food tailored to the Keidi metabolism, which drew high praise from the doctor. He asked her if it could be supplied in bulk to some of the refugee groups who were being forced to sacrifice the weight of food supplies for speed of movement.

It could and it was.

By the end of the second day the majority of the groups within and beyond the borders of the Estate were safe or looked as though they would reach safety in time, barring accidents. The First’s convoy, closely followed by two more groups of his special followers, reached their induction center but milled about outside the entrance for more than an hour before disarming themselves and going inside. Subsequent groups disarmed themselves and entered without delay.

For the first time since the escape from Camp Eleven, Martin and the Keidi leader were able to see as well as hear each other.

“I have urgent questions,” the First said angrily. “As you can see we have entered one of your white houses but, far from finding it a place of shelter, we find ourselves in a large, rooftop area apparently open to the sky. We cannot find an exit much less a way down to the entrance. Many of us feel that we have been tricked, captured, and are to be left to die from radiation sickness in this unprotected place. Before I signal the other Keidi to turn back and avoid entering all white houses, and to ignore and refuse anything you may say or offer to do for them, I must have answers. Is this an isolated act of vengeance against my Family and myself for my earlier capture of your life-mate and yourself, or do you intend to treat all Keidi refugees in this utterly ruthless fashion? I would hear your words, off-worlder, even though I am unlikely to believe them.”

Martin was silent for a moment. The threat to turn his own and perhaps some of the non-Estate refugees away from the induction centers was a development he had not foreseen, and it worried him. He could blank the other’s radio signals easily enough and allow the doctor or themselves to do all the talking, but at this stage a sudden silence from their leader would be suspicious and would probably have the same disruptive effect. He desperately needed the First’s active cooperation.

“This is not the time for vengeance or misdirection,” he said finally. “The entrance to the induction center is a short-range matter transmitter which immediately transports candidates to the uppermost floor.”

“Scientific tricks,” the First broke in, “do not impress me.”

Martin recalled his first visit to the local induction center on Earth, and remembered that it had impressed him out of about five year’s growth.