Timothy Zahn - Deadman Switch

Adams nodded greetings to Lord Kelsey-Ramos and me in turn, his sense more one of worried tension than real surprise. "Has something gone wrong?" he asked, his eyes coming to rest on me.

"Possibly just the opposite," Lord Kelsey-Ramos grunted. "Something may actually be going right. Gilead?—this is your show now."

"Yes, sir. I need to talk to the thunderheads," I told Adams. "There may be an alternative to destroying the alien ships, but I'll need thunderhead cooperation to do it."

Adams frowned slightly at that, but nodded his willingness to assist. "All right," he said, rearranging his legs into cross-legged position. "Give me a minute."

He closed his eyes again, and I could see him reaching for the proper meditative state. "I gave him the prep drugs earlier this evening, incidentally," Eisenstadt murmured in my ear. "First time he's used them, but if they work the way they do on Shepherd Zagorin he should be fine. What is it you've come up with, Gilead?"

I kept my eyes on Adams, searching for an answer that wouldn't be a true lie. "I think I've found a way to communicate with the aliens," I said. "Maybe. Thunderhead?—are you there?"

Adams's glazed eyes opened. Focused on me... and hardened. "You are Gilead Rac... ca Benedar," he whispered harshly. "Our enemy."

A shiver went up my back, and in my mind's eye I saw the muzzle of Kutzko's flash-welded needler... "I'm not your enemy," I told him as firmly as I could through a suddenly dry mouth. "I seek only life and safety for all—including both you and your enemies."

Abruptly, Adams gasped, his back stiffening. I jumped forward, searching his sense for clues as to what was happening—

And, moving with shaky clumsiness, he unfolded his legs and lunged at me.

I was caught utterly by surprise, my momentum still carrying me toward him as his legs straightened out to drive his body awkwardly forward; and even as I tried to throw my own arms up into some kind of defensive position, I knew I wouldn't make it in time. His hands, curved into wiry claws, reached upward toward my face— And dropped suddenly down again as the butt of Kutzko's hurled needler caught him squarely beneath the rib cage.

The thunderhead screamed; a thin, eerily wavering sound of frustration or pain or fury. Curling against the pain of the blow, he scrabbled around for the needler; but he wasn't even close before Kutzko was there, brushing smoothly past me to capture both of Adams's wrists in his hands as he kicked the needler out of reach. The thunderhead screamed again, this time unmistakably with frustration; and the sound seemed to break Eisenstadt out of his stunned paralysis. "Adams!—break contact!" he barked.

"No!" I snapped. If we lost this chance— "Thunderhead!—if the alien ships die, so will you. Listen to me—please."

Kutzko had manhandled Adams halfway back onto the cot. "You have no power ov... er us," the thunderhead spat toward me. "Your rulers will destroy... the Invaders."

"Yes, they will," I shot back. "And then those same rulers will destroy you."

"You lie—"

"Do I?" I cut him off. "Have they asked you what will become of the Cloud once the Invaders are dead?"

The glazed eyes stared at me, and I could sense the sudden uncertainty there. "No. They have not."

"Any mention of the Cloud at all?" I pressed him. "Any discussion of travel in and out of Solitaire system? Any questions about the Deadman Switch and your role in its operation?"

"There's been nothing of the kind," Lord Kelsey-Ramos murmured from behind me; and I could hear in his voice that he, too, had suddenly recognized the significance of that.

I nodded. "Surely you realize, thunderhead, how difficult it is for us to sacrifice a life every time we wish to enter or leave this system. Don't you think the commission negotiating such things with you would have suggested the Cloud's removal as the price for our dealing with the Invaders?"

Lord Kelsey-Ramos touched my arm warningly. "Gilead, if what you're implying is true, talking about it here could be extremely dangerous."

How well I knew that... but it was too late to back out now. If the thunderheads were incapable of rational thought and decision, we were already dead. "It doesn't matter," I told Lord Kelsey-Ramos, putting as much confidence into my voice as I could on the chance that the thunderheads had learned to read such nuances of human speech. "They can't stop it now. Certainly not alone. Their only chance is to cooperate with me."

He grimaced, eyes drifting over my shoulder to Adams. For the first time, I could tell, he was truly seeing what it was he'd committed himself to, and it was more than he'd bargained for. And indeed, which of you here, intending to build a tower, would not first sit down and work out the cost to see if he had enough to complete it? "If you'd like, sir," I told him quietly, "you and the others can leave. I can handle this part alone."

For a moment he was tempted. But only for a moment... and when he brought his gaze back to me, it was alive with the cold fire I'd seen there through a hundred corporate battles back on Portslava. "We're wasting time," he said firmly.

I nodded and turned back to Adams. Kutzko had released his wrists now, but still hovered nearby, ready for trouble. "They made no such request, thunderhead, did they?" I asked. "Would you like to know why not?"

For a moment the glazed eyes stared into space, a look I'd come to associate with a quick consultation among the thunderheads. Then the eyes refocused on me. "It is impossible," he whispered flatly.

"Why?" I countered. "Once the Invaders are gone, our rulers have no need for the Cloud—and since you yourselves are obviously the source of it, it follows immediately that they'll have no more use for you."

"We will fight," the thunderhead hissed.

"And you will lose," I told him bluntly. "Even if you could somehow destroy all of us here—which you can't—the mechanism for your destruction is already in place, and already triggered. When the Invaders are destroyed, it will automatically activate."

Eisenstadt took a step forward to where he could look into my face. "What are you talking about?" he demanded. "What mechanism?"

"I'm talking about a group of compressed-air bombs," I explained, mentally crossing my fingers that the scheme I'd dreamed up would sound reasonable to him. If it wasn't—and if he called me on it—the whole structure I was trying to build here would come crashing down around my head. Too late, I wished I'd made him stay back in his office. "The Pravilo has scattered them around Spall in the major weather corridors. They're filled with algae that's been specially tailored to alter the local soil acidity. Drastically alter it." I looked back at Adams. "Within a year—two at the most—there won't be a single native plant or animal alive here."

I held my breath; but if the plan had any glaring flaws Eisenstadt didn't spot them. "You mean... we're talking genocide here," he breathed. "No. No—that's simply unthinkable."

"I've seen the records of the deliveries," Lord Kelsey-Ramos said heavily—and so sincerely even I could barely hear the lie there. "They're already in place—and they're equipped with automatic timers."

"Probably already set," I nodded, picking up on the cue. "Give the Pravilo a couple more weeks to get ready, a day or two to destroy the Invaders and confirm they're all gone, and maybe two more weeks to quietly get all the top people out of the system in case you decided to retaliate. Four or five weeks—no more—and it'll begin."

There was hatred in Adams's eyes. Blistering, alien hatred... but for the first time, there was also fear. "They will not escape," he whispered.

I shook my head. "It doesn't matter. Even if you could kill everyone on Solitaire, it's a price the rulers of the Patri would be willing to pay to finally have free access to the system. Human pride alone would dictate that you be punished for the way you've manipulated us all these years."