The Enemy Papers Read online

  "Binswanger's ?" it asks.

  I nod in defeat. "Binswanger's," I answer.

  Alri Gan lands the craft in a tunnel at the base of a huge structure that looks like an enormous glittering ball sitting on the ice. In one last blast of cold, we leave the craft and enter the place where we are met by the owner, a thin, balding human named Abraham J. Binswanger, who escorts us and waits upon us personally.

  Binswanger's is a many-leveled wonderland of riches, each level connected to the others through a complicated web of moving walks and sliding stairs. To me it seems like the land of the Irrvedan must have seemed to Uhe and the starving ancient Mavedah, like the Promised Land must seem to the humans. Coats, hats, boots, shirts, sleeping clothes, undergarments, child clothes, baby clothes all of it new. Scents, jewels, furniture, pictures, machines for transportation, entertainment, work and business, tools, farming implements and supplies, flowers, equipment and uniforms for sports, and towers and towers of books, none of them ever having been opened.

  I touch the books and ache to fill my mind with the contents of them all. Before entering Binswanger's establishment I never saw a new book. Here I think I feel something of what the ancients must have felt when they discovered the universe.

  There are copies of the English translation of The Talman. I turn a copy over and on the back is a picture of the human, Willis E. Davidge. His hair is dark turning to gray, great streaks of gray in his beard at the corners of his mouth. In the picture his mouth is open in laughter. Next to those books are maps and brochures advertising tours of the cave where, during the war, USEF fighter pilot Willis E. Davidge and Drac fighter pilot Jeriba Shigan made their home and Shigan's child Zammis was delivered by the human. I point at the brochure and turn to Jeriba Zammis. "Is this Zammis your nameparent?"

  Zammis looks at the brochure and grimaces. "It's terrible how they've commercialized the area. Yes, this was my nameparent." It looks at me, eyebrows raised in resignation. "That's why Uncle found another cave far from here, and why we moved the Jeriba estate closer to it."

  "Another cave? The human still lives in a cave?"

  Zammis smiles and nods as its eyes focus on treasured memory. "Yes," it answers. "The human still lives in a cave."

  I look back at the leaflet and see that part of the tour includes the original gravesite of Jeriba Shigan and Shigan's parent, Gothig. This fighter pilot, then, was the nameparent of the Ovjetah of the Talman Kovah.

  "We have all of these on reader buttons, as well," offers Abraham Binswanger. I look at him, confused. Undev Orin reaches into a pocket and withdraws a small flat plastic box. Orin opens it and inside are several multicolored discs, each one the size of a fingertip, as well as a player mounted with a screen.

  "You can get a reader and quite a few buttons for what a book costs," offers Jeriba Zammis's retainer.

  "I want the book," I answer.

  Jeriba Zammis faces Abraham Binswanger and says, "He wants the book."

  While Undev Orin arranges for the purchase of the book, Zammis, Binswanger and I move on to the department for clothes. In the end I am clad in completely new garments from the skin out and have outerwear that seems capable of withstanding a bath in liquid nitrogen. Mentally preparing to high-grade the purchases, keeping only what I absolutely need and can afford, I ask Binswanger the price of it all. He holds out his hands, smiles, and says, "It has all been taken care of."

  Back in the craft, Jeriba Zammis says that it will take into midafternoon before we reach the Jeriba estate and there are business matters that need tending. In moments Zammis is talking with a business colleague, working through a computer index, and writing notes all at the same time. By overhearing conversations I manage to learn how Jeriba Zammis earned its blue stripe. Zammis is a financier, Jetah of Colony Reserve. When there is a lull in the activity, I turn to Zammis.

  "My apologies for interrupting, Jetah."

  It looks up from its work and faces me. "Yes?"

  "Do you do any business with Earth IMPEX?"

  Zammis's eyebrows rise. "Of course. It's the largest mineral exploration and development corporation in the quadrant. Why do you ask?"

  I think of the stars, and my tears. "I met someone on the ship. A human named Michael Hill. Do you know him?"

  The brows come down. "I know him very well. He represents IMPEX on Friendship. I've done business with IMPEX through him for ten years or more. He is very well respected among those who do interplanetary trade in First Colony. Is there a difficulty?"

  "No." I return to looking through the window, remembering Hill's comment about making plans and hearing God laugh. The vehicle streaks away from the city, far from the flashing lights of visual directional beacons. Soon the other traffic is left behind, as well. In moments we are over a steel-gray ocean, its angry waters whipped into frothy caps by an incredible storm that the craft's computers neutralize into a calm passage. In moments I close my eyes and sleep.

  THIRTEEN

  Considering the power, wealth, and influence of the Jeriba line, the estate is quite modest. Perched on a high cliff overlooking the ocean, it reminds me of a miniature castle. It has only eight or ten attendants and retainers and cannot maintain much more than twenty or thirty guests in luxurious splendor at one time. The room I am given and the repast both are magnificent. The welcome, however, is restrained.

  In addition to Zammis, in residence are Jeriba Ty, Zammis's adult child and estate manager, and Jeriba Haesni, Ty's child. Estone Nev, the fighter pilot Shigan's aged sibling, is in residence, as well. Nev, almost sixty years old, is far from frail and is the retired Ovjetah of Friendship's Talman Kovah.

  They all look upon me and my mission with mistrust. After stiff introductions are passed, Zammis excuses itself to do some work, Estone Nev retires to do its meditation, and Haesni puts on its outerwear to run down to the cave to tell Uncle that he has a visitor. Ty remains.

  "Yazi Ro, I apologize if we seem protective of Willis Davidge, but the value we place upon his life is incalculable. If it weren't for him, the Jeriba line would be ended and this world would be a much different place. As I came to adulthood under Uncle's care, the line of my parents back six generations lived in a cave, grew and learned line, life, and Talman from Willis E. Davidge. My child, Haesni does the same now."

  I hold out my hands. "I am here at the wishes of Jeriba Shigan to deliver a manuscript. That is all."

  "You are a piece of a puzzle, Yazi Ro. I think you know that."

  "Yes."

  Ty walks to a large window overlooking a distant point of land, its cliffs extending into the boiling waters of the sea. I walk until I am next to Ty. I see Haesni, growing smaller with each step, running across the snow and ice toward the point. "Davidge is another puzzle piece, as is the manuscript you carry, Yazi Ro. A talma is being gathered, put in motion." Ty looks over at me. "May I be told the object?"

  "Peace," I answer. "Peace on Amadeen."

  "You look as though you stand between beliefs."

  "Jeriba Ty, your parent's parent is the Ovjetah of the Talman Kovah. It has all of the science of the Diea at its disposal. Jeriba Shigan believes there is a possibility for peace."

  "But you have doubts," Ty insists.

  "Even Shigan has doubts." I feel my shoulders shrug. "Jeriba Ty, I have waded through the blood of Amadeen ever since my birth. The knives there make cuts that cannot heal. If there is a path along which peace can be achieved on Amadeen, either I cannot see it or the Ovjetah's meaning for the word `peace' is considerably different from my own. I have no scientific skills. I have yet to stand the rites of adulthood, I do not know why I am here."

  Ty studies me for a long time then glances toward the point. "There are the truths of Zineru, Yazi Ro. That is why you are here." It places a hand on my shoulder and says, "I will take you to see Davidge."

  As I follow Ty to the robing chamber, I feel the shame fill my face. I unclearly recall a Zineru in The Talman, but I cannot remember who it was, what it d
id, or what its truths have to do with me. I am too ashamed to ask Ty what it means.

  As we walk the path to the point, the wind blows ice crystals around us in whorls and clouds. Somewhere from the past I remember my parent telling me the story of the teacher, Maltak Di, who asked its students about paths. It would draw two shapes and connect them with two lines. It would ask the first student how many paths there are between the two shapes. In a peculiar warp of mind, the years fade and I am in Avo's arms as it reads from the tiny cube that hangs from a golden chain around its neck.

  "...how many paths are there from the circle to the square?"

  "There are two paths, Jetah."

  "Nyath, you may not stay; you cannot learn."

  There were only two lines and poor Nyath could only see two paths. The next student could see several paths if the two drawn paths were repeated turn-in-turn. Maltak Di allowed the second student to stay because it might be able to learn. The third student was told it must stay because it might be able to teach. The third student had said that between the two shapes there was a number of paths without finite limit.

  From the estate to the cave there is an infinite number of paths. Down into the ocean, under the ground, through the air, into space, by way of Draco, by way of Amadeen. We walk the paths we see, however, because they are the ones we see. When a better path is discovered, perhaps the Jeriba line will walk it. First it needs to be found.

  Zenak Abi thinks it might have found a path from war to peace on Amadeen. Jeriba Shigan thinks it sees it, too. What does it have to do with an old human, a Mavedah killer, and the story of a woman called Joanne Nicole?

  Almost to the point, Ty leads us down a natural set of stairs opening onto a narrow ledge high above the rocks and breakers below, the wind pressing us against the cliff. The heights make me strain back from the edges as I hold my breath. Around one turn and another, and the ledge widens a bit. I lean out a bit and look down from the edge of the sheer wall to the rocks far below. A false step here and Yazi Ro would be no mo'. I become dizzy again and press my body against the wall.

  "This is the entrance," says Ty. I turn from the deadly drop and face the wind- and ice-carved opening in the rock wall. Ty leads us into it. When we reach the back of the opening, Ty opens a door made of sticks and strips of leather and enters. Beyond the door is a passage. I feel the warmth from the cave beyond and suddenly am afraid.

  I think for a moment and find that my fear is that my life will be forever changed by entering this cave. Before taking any kind of path, I want to see its destination. The Ovjetah said, though, that knowledge of the path might close it. Is that because if I knew where the path leads I would refuse to go?

  "Hey!" calls an unfamiliar voice. I see a human walk around a turn in the passage. He is clad in rigged skins and has a cap made of the same skins on his head. His hair is long as is his beard. I recognize him from his likeness on the book. It is Willis E. Davidge. He looks at me and points toward the entrance. "Were you born in a goddamned barn?"

  "What?"

  "Close the door!" He shakes his head, turns and disappears down the passage. I close the door and follow, my path set.

  FOURTEEN

  We are in crudely made chairs sitting around the large hearth fire, which provides the chamber's heat and only illumination. The smoke from the fire is drawn through a crack in the chamber's ceiling, but the smell of smoke is strong in the air. Wood for the fire is stacked along the wall behind me and there are chests and large wooden boxes next to the beds behind the human's chair. The beds are made of skins thrown over piles of branches. Webbed nets, leather sacks, and other objects hang from wooden pegs hammered into cracks in the walls. Nearly everything appears to be handmade of wood, leather, bone, or plant fiber.

  Davidge sits in his leather and stick throne like some sort of primitive tribal chief. He looks over the tops of his reading glasses at me, then shifts his gaze to Ty and Haesni, returning it to the manuscript, the reading surface cocked toward the flames.

  "So, Yazi Ro, you taking this book to me is supposed to stop a war." The tone sounds mocking and I remain silent. Davidge glances up at me. "I don't suppose Shiggy told you how we're supposed to do it."

  "Shiggy?"

  "Shigan. The Ovjetah? The guy who sent you here? Work with me, Ro; life is too short, especially for Dracs."

  I feel the anger rising. "No. It did not tell me how."

  The human wrinkles up his forehead and holds up his hands. "If we don't know how, what are we supposed to do?"

  Ty leans forward in its chair. "Uncle, perhaps you are supposed to figure it out for yourself."

  "Damned silly. I mean, if Shiggy knows a way, why doesn't it just tell me?"

  "The Ovjetah," I interrupt, "told me that knowledge of the path might close it."

  The human flips through a few pages and shakes his head. "Shiggy always was a little smart aleck." Davidge's eyes suddenly look up at me. "It was well?"

  I fold my arms as I accept two truths: Davidge does not like me and I do not like Davidge. "I am not a healing Jetah. The Ovjetah's fitness is not within my area of expertise."

  The human sits back in his chair, both of his hands resting upon the closed manuscript on his lap. "Did Shigan seem well?"

  "I detected no bleeding wounds or consequential diseases, Uncle Willy."

  Davidge's head goes back a degree as he stares at me with very blue eyes. He nods once, opens the manuscript to the first page, and begins reading. As he turns the page he says, "That's a big stick you have up your ass, Yazi Ro. Try not to scratch the chair."

  Ty, its jaw clamped shut against its laughter, stands, grabs its coat, and walks to the entrance, barely nodding at me along the way. Haesni, less successful at suppressing its laughter, makes a snorting sound and hurries to the back of the chamber where the child vanishes into another passage. I feel a cold draft against my legs as Ty opens the door. It stops as the door is closed. I hear muffled laughter coming from outside the cave.

  I sit fixed in the chair, glaring at the human, until I think I must look as big a fool as I feel. I stand, close my coat and put up my hood as I storm toward the cave's opening. When I go through the entrance into the cold, I look at my hand holding the door as a debate rages within me: Should I close it or leave it open?

  Leaving it open would be childish. It would, however, feel quite good. Perhaps to end a war I must work with this human, and warring with him over a silly door might close Zenak Abi's path to peace before it opens. It would, however, feel thoroughly good. Involuntarily I emit a growl and slam the door shut. As I turn away I hear Davidge's voice call, "Thank you."

  In the harsh wind at the top of the cliff, my gaze on the tortured waters below, the questions stand before me. Is this human the great teacher of the Ovjetah of the Talman Kovah? Is this the mentor of the Jeriba line? Is that creature one of the founders of this planet, refuge of 'harmony between the peoples of the quadrant? I see something all too mortal.

  I know myself. I am no mountain of wisdom. Now I have seen enough of the human. No matter what Zenak Abi and Jeriba Shigan think they see, we are not the ones who will find peace for Amadeen.

  "You are disappointed."

  I hear Ty's voice coming from behind me. Without turning I answer. "I have seen the size of war, Jeriba Ty. I have felt its breath on my face. I know its power, its complexity, its pain, its fear." I turn and face the firstborn of Jeriba Zammis. "In a moment of intense anguish I went to an old fool to find peace. That old fool sent me to another old fool who sent me here to yet another old fool."

  "I don't think you always thought of them as fools."

  I look back at the sea. "After I met Zenak Abi, the traitor on Amadeen, I did not believe in its possibilities for peace, It was old, foolish-looking, and ran with a pack of renegade Dracs and humans. I took on its mission because it was my only way off Amadeen."

  "You believed the Ovjetah, though," interrupted Ty.

  "Yes. I believed Jeriba Shiga
n. The Ovjetah did not look foolish and it had all of the wisdom of the Jetah Diea honoring it. A part of me believed that the Ovjetah might know a way to peace." I raise my hand and wave it toward the sea with a certain degree of violence. "Yazi Ro, take a copy of the Koda Nusinda to this great teacher, this giant of wisdom, on Fyrine IV. Put this manuscript together with this great mind and that act will take thirty years of blood and horror and bring it to an end." I look back at Jeriba Ty. "I believed that. That's how big a fool I am."

  Ty smiles sympathetically. "Poor Ro. You came to Friendship looking for a god and Willis E. Davidge turns out to be only a man."

  "And such an ordinary man," I add. "Is this what the machinations of the Ovjetah's talma would have me find!"

  Ty places its gloved hand on my arm and bursts out with a laugh. "I certainly hope so, my friend. Uncle gave you his very best I'm just plain folks routine." It looks at me, laughs again, and cocks its head toward the estate. "Come along. It's almost time for the repast. Uncle will be occupied for hours and Haesni will be eating smoked snake in the cave. It will be good to have more company at the house. Falna should be there by now. The ship from Draco eventually came in and Falna was on it."

  Falna, the child of Estone Nev's namechild, is at the table for the repast. It is tall, beautiful, and so brilliant I keep silent for fear of sounding like the fool I feel. Although Falna is so far above my aspirations it might as well be back on Earth, I listen, captivated by its words, its laugh, the devil look to its eyes. Once Falna's gaze meets mine and I see it smile as I turn away, my face hot with embarrassment. Also at the table are Jeriba Zammis, Ty, and Estone Nev. As the most senior, Nev stands at its place and leads the ceremony of the repasts, something I had not seen since my parent's death.