Timothy Zahn - Deadman Switch

I bit at the back of my lip. He was right—the logic of it was indeed hard to argue against. And yet...

"You don't seem convinced, Benedar."

I focused on him. His expression was gruff, tolerant, as befit a scientist who didn't officially give much credit to my Watcher skills... but beneath that official veneer I could sense a genuine interest. "There's something else about the thunderheads," I said, trying without success to pin down the elusive feeling nagging at my back-brain. "Something that bothers me."

"You think they're lying to us about something?"

I looked at Calandra, saw her equally helpless shrug. She didn't have it, either; but like me, she recognized there was something here we weren't getting. "No, I don't think they're lying. Not... exactly."

It was a sloppy enough statement, and I fully expected to get a scornful glare for it. But Eisenstadt merely rubbed his cheek, his sense thoughtful. "Could it be that this invitation out to the Cloud is some kind of a trap?" he suggested.

"I can't see what they could hope to gain," I shook my head. "They must know that information about them has long since left the system. It's far too late to try and keep their existence secret, even if that was what they wanted."

Calandra stirred. "I don't think it's a trap," she said slowly. "But Gilead's right—they are hiding something. I get a sense of manipulation, as if they're deliberately feeding us just enough information to keep us moving in the direction they want."

"You think they're going to take us to the Cloud generator and then ask us to shut it off?" Eisenstadt asked bluntly.

She looked at him steadily. "I'd be very careful about doing anything like that," she told him. "If you're right about them not being responsible for the Cloud, then it could only have been put there by someone else for the purpose of isolating them."

Eisenstadt nodded grimly. "That thought has already occurred to me," he acknowledged. "Which is why I want to take a Pravilo warship instead of just requisitioning some freighter. The generator may be defended."

Across the way, the Pravilo lieutenant straightened from his board. "Dr. Eisenstadt?" he called. "All set. Commodore Freitag has ordered the Kharg to return from ring patrol duty; ETA approximately six days." He hesitated. "However... the commodore asks me to remind you that none of the Pravilo ships in Solitaire system is equipped with a Deadman Switch."

For a second Eisenstadt just stared at him. Then he swore under his breath. "Chern-fire!—I forgot all about that."

I glanced at Calandra, read my own puzzlement there. "I don't understand," I said to Eisenstadt. "It can't be that hard to install a Deadman Switch."

"The hardware's not the problem," he growled. "It's the fact that the Pravilo doesn't have a general license for Solitaire transport. Trips in and out of the system are authorized on an individual basis by the Patri. And for that authorization you have to go all the way to Portslava."

"It's not quite that bad, sir," the lieutenant spoke up. "The judiciaries on Miland or Whitecliff can also grant authorization."

"All that means is that you apply to them and they send the request on to Portslava," Eisenstadt shook his head. "Could take weeks—not to mention the paperwork involved in getting the actual zombi."

I looked at Calandra, feeling my stomach muscles tightening. Except that there was a zombi already on hand, if Eisenstadt ever happened to remember that... "Surely there are emergency procedures available," I said.

"I doubt this could be made to qualify," Eisenstadt snorted.

"Well..." I hesitated. "The last I knew, Governor Rybakov owed Mr. Kelsey-Ramos a rather large personal favor. You might talk to him, see if he can wheedle a zombi for you from among Solitaire's own death-sentence criminals."

He looked at me; and from the way his eyes carefully avoided Calandra I could tell that he, too, had suddenly remembered her status. I held my breath... but practically before the idea was fully formed it was smothered by a strong sense of rejection. Like Randon, it seemed, he had quickly learned what an asset Watchers were, and he had no intention of throwing that asset away. "I was under the impression Solitaire law forbade that," he said. "Worth a try, though. Anyway—" He glanced at Zagorin. "I'd like you two to accompany Ms. Zagorin back to her quarters when they're through with her."

His voice and sense were heavy with significance. "Yes, sir," I said, trying to convey my understanding of his order without being too obvious about it. If the thunderheads had done anything to her, a couple of hours with her should bring it to light.

"Good," Eisenstadt nodded. "I'll let you know what happens with the governor." Nodding to Calandra and Zagorin, he turned and set off toward the gap in the buttes where the cars were parked.

I watched him go; felt Calandra's presence as she stepped to my side. "He wants the Cloud turned off," she murmured.

I nodded. "I know."

She shivered suddenly. "I hope we're not all going at this too quickly. That we aren't about to undo something that... shouldn't be undone."

I chewed at the back of my lip. "I don't think he'll do anything rash. Besides... there's still something about this that doesn't work. Why would anyone go to all the trouble of creating a ten-light-year barrier when all it does is lock in creatures who are rooted to the ground?"

Calandra shook her head. "I don't know. But I still don't like it."

I put my arm around her, felt the tension in her muscles. "I know," I said quietly. "Neither do I."

It was late evening, and I was in my quarters—somehow, I thought of them as quarters now, instead of as a prison cell—when a pair of Pravilos came to take me to Eisenstadt's office. One look at his face was all I needed. "What's wrong?" I asked, stomach tightening.

In answer he waved me to a seat and swiveled his phone display around so that I could see it. Randon's race was on the screen... and he, too, looked worried. "Why don't you repeat what you just told me, Mr. Kelsey-Ramos," Eisenstadt invited sourly as I sat down.

"Benedar," Randon nodded to me from the display, his eyes briefly searching my face. "How are they treating you?"

"I'm fine, sir," I said. "What's the problem?"

His mouth twisted briefly. "I've just been in contact with Governor Rybakov," he said.

It was obvious what was coming next. "I take it she won't suspend the no-zombi law for us."

"It's worse than that," he said grimly, holding up a cyl. "I have here a copy of a petition that was filed with the governor's office two days ago. It reminds Rybakov that the duly mandated sentence of death passed against Calandra Paquin has been unlawfully suspended... and it requests that said sentence be carried out without further delay."

I stared at him. "Aikman?" I asked between stiff lips.

"Who else?" Randon growled. "What's worse, Rybakov really has no choice but to give the request proper consideration... and she tells me privately that he does have a case."

"How?" I demanded. "Calandra's been co-opted by a representative of the Patri for official purposes."

Eisenstadt cleared his throat. "Unfortunately, Benedar, my authority doesn't actually extend that far. It was only through Mr. Kelsey-Ramos's generosity that she's here on Spall at all, and he could legally call her back to the Bellwether at any time."

I stared at the display, the thudding of my heart like the distant sound of crumbling hope. My belief in Calandra's innocence—my efforts to buy her enough time for a new hearing—all of it threatened by a legal trick. But he said, Alas for you lawyers as well, because you load on people burdens that are unendurable, burdens that you yourselves do not touch with your fingertips... Clenching my teeth, I forced my mind to unfreeze. "All right," I said slowly. "But since Calandra was assigned to the Bellwether, shouldn't that mean that her sentence can only be carried out aboard the Bellwether?"