“Yes, that’s true,” said September.
Ethan shook inside. Instead of the expected protest at this slur on their friends, September had reacted with agreement and a beatific smile.
He thought furiously. Since September did nothing without good reason, it followed that he had one for concurring with the Commissioner. As Trell nodded in response, he saw that the Commissioner had been waiting for precisely the answer the big man had given him. But if their purpose in coming here was to convince the Commissioner that the Tran were worthy of associate Commonwealth status, they weren’t off to a very good beginning.
Or were they? Come to think of it, reacting emotionally instead of with reason would be the worst way to get the Commissioner on their side. “Longer on muscle than brains, but not stupid”, was an evaluation of the Tran with which Sir Hunnar himself might readily have agreed.
“Native affairs, you mentioned?” Trell looked at Ethan.
He rose. “We spent quite a number of months among them, sir.” Pacing the plushly carpeted room, he felt himself relax. As always, he was most at ease when punching a product he believed in. He believed in the Tran.
“Environment and ecology have conspired against the natives, sir. They’re widely dispersed, forced to cling to scattered, often barely accessible islands for survival. While they’ve adapted well to this harsh climate, their numbers don’t seem to be great. I don’t know why, but they aren’t as numerous as they should be. That also works to their disadvantage.
“And yet,” he continued enthusiastically, “Considering their extreme climate they’ve not only staved off extinction, but have advanced to a fair level of civilization. Their technology is unusually advanced in certain areas, such as iceship building and cold weather farming. Races inhabiting more pleasant worlds have not done as well.”
“I agree with you.” Ethan stopped pacing, astonished. First Trell described the Tran as having more muscle than brains, and now he was all but concurring with Ethan’s optimistic assessment of their accomplishments.
“Well then?”
“Well then what, Mr. Fortune?” Trell was watching him closely.
Ethan was forced to discard all the arguments he had mustered mentally to build a case for the Tran’s abilities and jump ahead. “If you agree with my assessment, sir, consider the benefits to this world of associate Commonwealth membership. They could send delegates to Council as observers. They’d learn a great deal and would be eligible for all kinds of government assistance for which they presently can’t qualify. That would raise the planetary standard of living, which in turn would…”
Trell raised a hand, and Ethan stopped short. “Please, Mr. Fortune.” The Commissioner’s gaze switched from Ethan to September, then back again. “Don’t you two realize that I would have been working for that very thing myself? Despite the natives’ obvious drawbacks, I admire them very much.” He gestured at his office.
“Look around you. I work here, relax here. Every item in this room not of an electronic nature is of local manufacture. The couches and chairs you rest upon, the decorative arts on walls and tables, everything. Personally I would enjoy nothing better than nominating my charges here for associate status. But,” and he shook an admonishing finger at Ethan, “though I agree with you where the locals’ scientific and artistic progress is concerned, let us objectively consider their handicaps. Social progress has lagged far, far behind everything else here.” He stood, unconsciously exchanging pacing territory with Ethan, who resumed his seat. Except that Trell moved straight to the nearest window-wall and stared out over town and harbor.
“You wish the Tran to have associate Commonwealth status. I wish them to have it.” He glanced back over a shoulder. “Which Tran, Mr. Fortune, do you refer to?”
Ethan started to reply, found his thoughts tangled by facts, and said nothing. September stared at him, silent and unhelpful…
III
“I SEE THE PROBLEM has struck home.” Trell turned from the window and the view beyond. “Arsudun was chosen to be the site of the Commonwealth outpost here because it was one of the larger islands located by first survey, and because it has a protected harbor which helps shield us here from the stronger winds off the ice ocean. However, further surveys could, I am certain, turn up forty other locations of equivalent suitability for Brass Monkey. Arsudun was lucky, not superior.
“Tell me… would it be fair to your friends from…?”
“From Sofold,” September told him.
“From Sofold. Would it be fair to them if all the delegates from Tran-ky-ky to Council were to be elected or appointed from Arsudun?”
“Of course not,” Ethan put in immediately. “All would vote and…” His voice trailed off.
Trell slumped back into his couch across from them. “Vote, Mr. Fortune? I don’t know if there’s a word in the Tran dialects for voting.”
“They elect Landgraves from time to time,” Ethan countered.
“Yes. When the offspring of former rulers are unacceptable. But you have a point, if what you say is true. I myself have never ventured from Arsudun. But if the sociologists who go out with the scouting parties are agreed on anything, it’s the Tran’s unwavering suspicion of his neighbor. They are belligerent and jingoistic.” He shook his head slowly.
“No. I’m sorry, Mr. Fortune. If the Tran are to claim associate status in the Commonwealth, they must present such a claim in some united fashion. There is no planetary government to deal with here. In fact,” he leaned forward, spoke with seeming excitement, “I won’t even require that. A dominant regional government would be sufficient, one comprised of a fairly diverse population and reasonable number of city-states. If that existed, then many of these other futile feudal states would fall into line. But you’re not going to find any such organization on this world. You’re just not.
“Hostility is a way of life on Tran-ky-ky. Not only don’t the inhabitants of one state care a k’nith’s hindquarters for their neighbors, what about these nomadic warrior groups?”
“We know about them,” Ethan admitted, thinking back to the siege of Sofold by the horde of Sagyanak the Death in which he and September and the others had participated in the destruction of that ancient enemy of Hunnar’s people.
“They’re entitled by the Commonwealth charter to fair representation also.” Trell stared expectantly at Ethan, as if the outcome of the discussion had already been decided. “Can you see the island dwellers allying themselves politically and culturally with those blood-hungry migratory bandits?” He shook his head again.
“No, I’m afraid not, gentlesirs. In a few thousand years, maybe even in a few hundred, they might mature enough to exchange breath with all their neighbors. But not now.” He threw up both hands in an unnecessarily melodramatic gesture.
“As things stand now there is no way I in my position as Resident Commissioner can recommend them for associate membership. Or even for wardship. They are too independent and advanced to qualify as charity cases. A large regional government even—but these bellicose little island states, no. It’s not workable or fair.” He rose. Ethan and September did likewise.
“I thank you for your interest, gentlesirs. I think that on reflection you’ll have to admit that personal emotion has played some part in your reasoning.” He was chiding them gently. “You’ve spent considerable time among these people. It’s only natural you’d want to help them. First, however, they must help them selves.