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they have started their blasphemous Rim city."
One of his aides, a slender young Gowachin in the front rank, ventured a
cautious question which had been repeated several times by other chastened
aides during the night.
"If we move too strongly against Humans in the Warrens, won't that feed the
unrest that . . ."
"We'll have more riots, more turning of Gowachin against Human and Human
against Gowachin," Broey agreed. "That's a consequence we are prepared to
accept."
This time they understood that Broey used the royal "we." Broey would accept
the consequences. Some of his aides, however, were not ready to accept a war
between the species within the city's walls. One of the aides farther back in
the ranks raised an arm.
"Perhaps we should use only Human troops in the Warrens. If we . . ."
"Who would that fool?" Broey demanded. "We have taken the proper steps to
maintain our hold on Chu. You have one task and one task only: find that
store of food and those hidden factories. Unless we find them we're finished.
Now, get out of here. I don't want to see any of you until you can report
success!"
They filed out silently.
Broey stood looking down at the blank screen of his communicator. Alone at
last, he allowed his shoulders to slump, breathed heavily through both mouth
and ventricles.
What a mess! What a terrible mess.
He knew in his node of nodes that he was behaving precisely as Jedrik wanted
him to behave. She had left him no alternatives. He could only admire her
handling of the situation while he waited for the opening which he knew must
come. But what a magnificent intellect operated in that Human head. And a
female at that! Gowachin females never developed such qualities. Only on the
Rim were Gowachin females used as other than breeders. Human females, on the
other hand, never ceased to amaze him. This Jedrik possessed real leadership
qualities. Whether she was the one to take over the Electorship remained to
be seen.
Broey found himself recalling those first moments of terrible awareness in the
Graluz. Yes, this was the way of the world. If one chose the survivors by
other than a terrible testing process, all would die. It would be the end of
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both species. At least, it would be the end of them on Dosadi and only Dosadi
mattered.
He felt bereft, though. He felt betrayed by his God. Why had God failed to
warn him? And when questioned, how could God respond that only evil could
penetrate the mind of a fanatic? Wasn't God omnipotent? Could any awareness
be closed to God? How could God be God then?
I am your God!
He could never forget that voiceless voice reverberating in his head.
Was that a lie?
The idea that they were puppets of a false god was not a new one. But if this
were the case, then the other uses of those like Pcharky eluded him. What was
the purpose of being a Gowachin in Human form or vice versa if not to elude
the God of the Veil? Quite obviously, Jedrik operated on such a premise.
What other motive could she have than to prolong her own life? As the City
was to the Rim, so was the power to elude the God (false God or true) to those
of the City. No other assumption fitted a Dosadi justification.
We are plagued by a corrupt polity which promotes unlawful and/or immoral
behavior. Public interest has no practical significance in everyday behavior
among the ruling factions. The real problems of our world are not being
confronted by those in power. In the guise of public service, they use
whatever comes to hand for personal gain. They are insane with and for power.
-From a clandestine document circulated on Dosadi
It was dark when a disguised Jedrik and undisguised McKie emerged onto the
streets. She led them down narrow passages, her mind full of things McKie had
revealed. Jedrik wore a blonde wig and puff-out disguise which made her
appear heavy and hunched.
As they passed an open courtyard, McKie heard music. He almost stumbled. The
music came from a small orchestra -- delicate tympany, soft strings, and a
rich chorus of wind instruments. He did not recognize the melody, but it
moved him more deeply than any other music of his experience. It was as
though the music were played only for him. Aritch and company had said
nothing about such magnificent music here.
People still thronged the streets in numbers which astonished him. But now
they appeared to pay him little notice.
Jedrik kept part of her attention on McKie, noting the fools with their
musical dalliance, noting how few people there were on the streets -- little
more than her own patrols in this quarter. She'd expected that, but the
actuality held an eerie mood in the dim and scattered illumination from
lighted corners.
She had debated providing McKie with a crude disguise, but he obviously didn't
have the cunning to carry off the double deception she required. She'd begun
to sense a real intelligence in him, though. McKie was an enigma. Why had he
never encountered the opportunities to sharpen that intelligence? Sensing the
sharpness in him, she could not put off the thought that she had missed
something vital in his accounts of that social entity which he called the
ConSentiency. Whether this failure came from actual concealment by McKie or
through his inadequacies, she was not yet willing to judge. The enigma set
her on edge. And the mood in the streets did nothing to ease her emotions.
She was glad when they crossed the line into the area completely controlled by
her own personal cell.
The bait having been trailed through the streets by one who would appear a
tame underling, Jedrik allowed herself a slight relaxation. Broey would have
learned by this time about the killing of Tria's double agent. He would react
to that and to the new bait. It was almost time for phase two of her design
for Broey.
McKie followed her without question, acutely aware of every strange glance
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cast their way. He was emptied of all resistance, knowing he could not
survive if he failed to follow Jedrik through the smelly, repellent darkness
of her streets.
The food from the restaurant sat heavily in his stomach. It had been tasty:
a stew of odd shapes full of shredded greenery, and steaming hot. But he
could not shake the realization that his stew had been compounded of someone's
garbage.
Jedrik had left him very little. She hadn't learned of the Taprisiot, or the
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