Charles Sheffield - Proteus in the Underworld

Trudy was not smiling at all. Her blue-green gaze was fixed on Bey’s face with a total and fixed intensity. Sondra, watching both of them, suddenly understood Trudy’s expression. The Empress of BEC, a senior force of the solar system, was frightened.

“And then your BEC people got into the act.” Bey sighed and shook his head. “It’s an old, old story, one I suffered with myself for half a century. Your employees try to do what they think you want done, but they only know half the facts. So they do things you later wish they hadn’t done. Jarvis Dommer—I feel sure it was his work—somehow guessed that you were worried about Sondra. He arranged for her to have an ‘accident’ out on the Fugate colony. Since it was supposed to be an accident it couldn’t be made foolproof, and Sondra was smart enough to survive. But it was more evidence, proof to me that we were close to learning something that you really didn’t want learned.”

“I didn’t intend for anything bad to happen to Sondra. I didn’t even know anything was going to happen.” Trudy Melford stared at them across the table. “Believe that, Sondra, if you believe nothing else. As for your accident, Bey, I had nothing to do with that, either.”

“You don’t surprise me. There’s a problem with people like Dommer, who only really work for money. So long as you are paying them top rate, they are good, loyal employees. But the moment some other group offers them more, they automatically work for them and not for you.”

“I pay Jarvis Dommer very well—ridiculously well.”

“But someone was willing to outbid you. My bet is that the Old Mars team got to Dommer. They thought—wrongly—that I was behind the surface forms, and they decided it would be cheaper to put me out of circulation than buy me.”

“Rafael Fermiel?”

“No. I’m not sure I can even suggest the name. By the way, Fermiel should be arriving here in just a few minutes. He was doing something for me, then he’ll be along. Georgia Kruskal, too, the designer and leader of the Mars surface forms. So I’d better press on.

“I was out of the picture for a while, sitting in a form-change tank recovering from my own ‘accident.’ I didn’t know anything about Samarkand until Aybee Smith told me that Sondra was going there, and why. Then I dumped the transport records. I found that sure enough, you had been making trips out there, yourself. But you know what, Trudy? You were a little bit careless. You didn’t fix the old transport records. They show that you visited Samarkand only during the past year. That’s not long enough if Errol Ergan Melford had been out there for four years. I added that to my own set of puzzles.

“The list was starting to grow. Let me give you another item or two on it: If you are really interested in the surface forms, and I believe you are, why weren’t you all for them and deadly opposed to the Underworld? Yet when we talked about it you came across as neutral, telling me that you didn’t play politics—when it’s BEC’s main stock in trade and everybody knows it. And here’s another puzzle for you: Why did you move BEC Headquarters to Mars? I know what you told me, that it was simple economics. But I did a little of my own digging. I found that the Planetary Coordinators on Earth were willing to give BEC a deal every bit as good as the one that Mars offered. You didn’t need to move—didn’t need to, at least, for the reason that you gave. What other possible reason could there be, for such a major undertaking? You had to move all the records, the business, the castle itself. Is there any single explanation that could cover the whole list?”

“Get it over with, Bey.” Trudy Melford was nothing like an Empress now. Her lips were trembling and her face was set and bloodless. “I know that you know. Just tell me what you want.”

“I can’t do that yet.” Every few seconds Bey was glancing impatiently toward the door.

“You mean won’t. Don’t play with me, Bey Wolf. I’m not a mouse.”

“And I’m not a cat, Trudy. I don’t enjoy hurting people.”

“You don’t even have to tell me what you want. I’ll give you everything. Everything I possess if you’ll keep what you know to yourself.”

“I can’t do that, either. Damnation, where are they? Trudy, if I’m right it may not be as bad as you think—”

“It couldn’t be.” Trudy leaned forward until her head rested on the smooth table top. “You have no idea what I think—how I feel.”

Sondra had watched in total amazement. She had little idea what Bey was talking about, but in a few minutes she had seen Trudy Melford change from the Empress of BEC, a regal woman in full control of herself, to a pathetic lump of misery. In spite of herself, the sympathy swelled inside Sondra. She went around to Trudy’s side of the table, sat down next to her, and took her hand. And then, at what should have been a very private moment, in came a chubby red-bearded stranger, bounding along on the balls of his feet.

“Done,” he said to Bey. “Took a bit longer than I expected, but you were exactly right.”

“Where is he?”

“Outside.”

“What the devil’s the point of having him out there before we’ve seen him? Bring him in, Fermiel.”

“Sure.” Red-beard bounced away again, leaving Sondra wondering what could possibly come next. “Come on, Trudy.” Bey was speaking again, almost chiding, “You can’t let him see you like this. It would upset him.”

“He’s here?” Trudy Melford straightened up at once, staring wild-eyed about her. “But how—how did you find out what he looks like and where he was? Nobody should know that, except me and a few people in the Underworld.”

“There is far more to a person than external appearance.” Bey paused. Rafael Fermiel had entered again leading a small blond child. The boy took one look around the room and ran to Trudy Melford’s arms.

“Mummy!”

Bey gazed at Trudy and the little boy with curiosity and huge satisfaction as they hugged each other. “Sondra, I don’t think the two of you have met. I feel sure that there is an official Mars name, which Trudy can tell us, but let me use his Earth name. Allow me to introduce you to Errol Ergan Melford.”

Trudy had the child clutched in a great bear hug. “It’s all right, sweetie. Everything’s going to be all right.” She glared defiantly at Bey over the boy’s head. “You can do anything you like to me, I don’t care. But can’t you leave him alone?”

“I could, but I don’t think I ought to.” Bey came around to stand by Trudy and placed one hand on the top of Errol Melford’s shoulder. “He deserves something better in life than skulking in the deep Underworld.” The fair head turned up to look at him with clear, trusting eyes. “Errol, my name is Behrooz Wolf. I work with your mother.”

“Are you her friend?”

“I hope I am. I hope she will think so, too. Will you do something for me?”

“I’ll try.”

“Will you wait outside again with Mr. Fermiel for a little bit longer? I need to talk to your mother again.”

“Business?”

“Business.”

The blond head nodded. Bey waited until Fermiel had led the boy out of the room, then he sat down on Trudy’s other side. He stared thoughtfully at Trudy and Sondra. He did not speak, until Sondra said tartly, “Are you going to sit there forever? Or are you sometime going to explain what’s happening here?”

“Sorry.” Bey sighed. “I summon up remembrance of things past. Sorry, I’m at it again. I’m not supposed to do that. But all this carries me back a long way.” He roused himself and reached into a shirt pocket. He took out a single sheet of paper and placed it on the table. “Some of this you already know, Trudy better than anyone. But let me summarize.