"My thanks, Piva. May we continue?"
"Of course. Let us say that since Amadeen is the root of this war, we should hear first from the Front and the Mavedah."
Nicole felt Benbo stand up. "I think I can save some time here. The positions of the Mavedah and the Front are similar. The Front won’t be satisfied until every last Drac on Amadeen is either dead or removed from the planet." He sat down.
Tora Kia spoke. "And the Mavedah will settle for nothing less than the human population on Amadeen being either dead or removed. How much room, Tora Soam, does that leave you for problem solving?"
"Apparently none, Kia. However, I think you already can see the error in depending upon the apparent for your answers. Joanne Nicole, would you state the position of the United States of Earth?"
She rubbed her temples and let the stories of The Talman race through her mind. So much of talma involved goal choices; fitting the desired within the possible. She could not separate the formulas in her mind. "I would hear, first, the position of the Dracon Chamber."
A murmur of approval came from the Dracs. Then Zigh Caida spoke. "In gross phrases, then, we would see an end to the fighting-at least a confinement of the fighting to the immediate area of Amadeen. The Drac fleet would stand armed, as would the USE forces. But there would be no fighting."
"A cease-fire?"
"Yes."
Nicole thought upon Zigh Caida’s words. "If war could continue upon Amadeen without our two sides fighting, why is there fighting now? The truce must include a truce upon Amadeen. A separation of the combatants by a policed, demilitarized zone."
Zigh Caida asked, "And, Joanne Nicole, who shall have the responsibility for policing this zone?"
"A third party we could both agree upon; or a joint Drac-human force."
"Emmmm. This is… agreeable; but it does not solve the problem upon Amadeen. Amos Benbo?"
"Yes?"
"If we could establish a truce with a demilitarized zone in the manner described by Joanne Nicole, what would the Front’s position be?"
"No change. The Front won’t put down its weapons until every last Drac on Amadeen is dead."
"What of the demilitarized zone?"
"What of it?"
Nicole shook Benbo’s arm. "Amos, quit fooling around."
She could feel the rock-hardness of Benbo’s muscles. "I am not joking. Tora Kia knows that I am not joking."
Zigh Caida’s voice changed direction. "Tora Kia?"
"The human speaks the truth. The Mavedah has many old scores to settle. The Mavedah can settle for nothing less than Amadeen free of human life."
Tora Soam spoke. "Amos Benbo, your position does not allow the machinations of talma to work. There must be at least some degree of flexibility on your part; otherwise there can be no resolution."
"Let the Mavedah be flexible."
Tora Kia laughed. "My parent, you are more blind than Joanne Nicole. Can you not see that the Front and the Mavedah are way beyond rules? Beyond talma? They are beyond ultimate objectives. They are even beyond what will ultimately serve their own best interests. The Mavedah wants the Front dead; the Front wants the Mavedah dead."
"That serves nothing, Kia."
"My parent, until you have put in your time upon Amadeen, you have no idea what such position serves. But I will tell you what such a position serves. It serves death. On Amadeen, death must be served."
Nicole heard Kia’s footsteps move from the room. Later, Benbo talked to Tora Soam, saying much the same things said by Tora Kia. But while he talked, Nicole remembered that moment upon Storm Mountain when the Tsien Denvedah was falling back.
The universe was extremely small at that moment. There were absolutely no considerations beyond the fact that the Dracs were falling back. Cooler heads would have seen that any resistance at that point was futile. But on Catvishnu, there were no cooler heads. No one was thinking about anything other than scoring against the Dracs, and to hell with other considerations.
Tora Soam spoke, and its words filtered through her growing headache. "Joanne Nicole, do you have a comment?"
She stood. "I would return to my apartments. Tora Soam?"
"Yes?"
"Your game has failed. And it is not because anyone of us wanted it to fail. It failed because it had to fail. If a truce should happen, it will die as it has to die. The war, then, will resume. Before there is any solution, much more blood must be spent." Nicole held out her hand. "Baadek. Baadek!"
A Drac hand enclosed hers. "Yes?"
"Take me to my apartments. I have had enough of this foolishness."
TWELVE
"Without a key, a door is a wall. Without a door, a key is but matter. A door with a key in the presence of mind is an opening. Without mind, neither the key, the door, nor the opening can exist."
That night she awakened; the edges of some dream-sired horror still touching her; Mallik’s name still on her lips. There was a sound from the corridor-boots moving against the stone floor; then the boots moving slowly away. On her bed with all doors closed, Nicole breathed easily and allowed her thoughts to move at their own initiative. And as Eam’s thoughts spoke to it of the eventual end of life upon the planet Sindie, Nicole’s thoughts spoke to her.
There was a fierce, lonely ache in her body. When she recognized that the ache was for Mallik, she shut it off. Other things… there were other things to think about.
Tora Soam’s dinner party game. It had been a disaster. A human of similar rank, entertaining a roomful of equivalent human brass, would have been mortified. The guests would have been mortified as well. But as Baadek was leading her away, Nicole could hear the Dracs renewing the conversation in amiable, unconcerned voices.
They were discussing the game, the game, much as, in the past, Nicole had seen humans chewing over a bridge or poker hand that had been completed. That was some sort of danger signal to her, because they were not humans; and they were not playing games.
But the… alienness of those creatures is the thing that keeps escaping me. They could be human.
Baadek had left Nicole at her door to return to the corridor and drive Benbo and Mitzak to their quarters. She would have liked to have talked with them more; but when she wanted the peace of her apartments, she reached out and called for Baadek.
Why?
She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Ever since her lights had been extinguished, she had been categorizing her experiences with the Dracs into analogs with humans.
Vencha Eban, the Drac who cleaned the floors at the Chirn Kovah. It made no difference that it was a Drac and that I knew it was a Drac; I always think of Vencha as "the cleaning lady." Eban is a simple, hardworking, "Maggie the Mop."
Baadek, the long-suffering family retainer. In my mind Baadek is every bit the comedic representation of the ex-slave running down the dirt road, tears in his eyes, blubbering his welcome as massa done come home fum de wawh.
"Dammit, and what is Tora Soam?"
The darkness around her absorbed the question, letting her see the answer. Mallik’s father, Eliem Nicole. Ever since she could remember, Eliem Nicole was the fishing village of Kidege’s sole lawyer. Quiet and thoughtful, it was a rare problem of any size in the town that didn’t eventually find its resolution on Eliem Nicole’s desk.