AN ALTERNATIVE PROPOSAL

1563 4D

Andrew walked in with Jeddin between the doors of twisted steel. Behind them came Ezzar and Torre and Raffina, then Jirinai, Nazrelo and Marande, and last, Cortevail with Rion, his skin mottled with deep-red blisters from Trenzil‘s ministrations. All of them wore the brown coverall of the Coll Union. A far-off melody crept through Andrew‘s mind like a returning flight of orneys against an evening of dark pearl.

Out of a deep-black infinite distance, the room’s walls spilled a flood of starlight into the softly-illuminated center of the room, where a wide oval table stood. At the center of the table stood a slim iridescent vase containing a huge red street orchid. On one wall hung a box, shrouded in a long silvery cloth. Arlen‘s portrait was gone. A pair of military guards flanked the steel doors. Across the table from Andrew and his companions stood an array of military, corporate and administrative officials, regional and City alike.

One Director in ArCorp uniform, tall, wide-faced and solid, looked somehow familiar; when he saw Andrew his eyes widened, but he said nothing. Andrew couldn’t place him.

Overgroup Manager Frintar stood in the middle of the group, next to a broad, bull-like man with piercing eyes. Andrew drew a breath in very slowly, wondering what he was doing facing these people. Turiosten said, anticipating him, I’m here with you. Count on me now. I know most of them. That bull-man you noted is Gullinder, more powerful than Arlen was. But you hold more than he does, now.

Andrew stopped when he arrived at the table, putting his hand on the smooth, fleshy back of a soft pale chair. He gave a brief nod, and Jeddin spoke.

“We are here at your request. What do you want to discuss at this meeting?”

Frintar answered, her eyes on Andrew, ignoring Jeddin. “At this meeting we will negotiate the establishment of proper means of researching the technology of the alien vessel you have confiscated. We also wish to extend an offer to you to serve as pilots for this vessel until we have learned how to reproduce its technology.

“We are prepared to offer you, Andrew Luce, ten million coin on your own terms for the first year of work with us.” She turned her gaze to Torre and Jirinai. “For you, we wish to offer a grant of seventeen percent of Arlen Darghelo Sangrai‘s holdings, in horizontal strata of vital type, to insure you unimpeded access to all needed components of an independent society, if you wish it. Subdivision of this grant is up to you and your chieftains and their representatives.” Here she inclined her head toward Raffina, then Ezzar. “In return, the ship.”

“These are unconditional offerings?” Andrew‘s heart pounded. The walls shone black and pinpoint light.

“That is our purpose here: to negotiate them.” Frintar gestured at the chair in front of Andrew. “May we begin?”

They sat down, Andrew flanked at left by Jeddin, then Torre, then Jirinai, then Rion, and at right by Ezzar, then Raffina, then Cortevail. Nazrelo and Marande stood by the military guards at the great doors. Opposite Andrew sat Frintar, with the bull-like man on her right.

For a moment a playful urge came over Andrew, and he wanted to name all the people on the far side of the table. Gullinder, the bull, stared unmoving at him; Frintar, now she looked feline; there sat Talizirin, with an alert wild-dog glance… interrupting his train of images, Frintar spoke again.

“The ship is of paramount importance to us. We will not negotiate any other issues until you have granted us access to the alien vessel for study and proper use. We know that the vessel requires fuel which only we can supply. If you refuse to respond positively to this request, we will use force and any other means necessary to achieve what we are asking for. What offer do you make us?” Her eyes flicked briefly down to the vase standing on the table directly between her and Andrew.

Andrew took the vase in his fingers. He brought the orchid to his nostrils and inhaled its syrupy aroma. His head swam for a moment. “So you’ll either get what you want peacefully or take it. You offer no alternatives to these?”

“We see no acceptable alternatives.”

“What assurances do I have that all of you will honor this agreement?”

“What do you want?”

“I want my family back. My wife and children alive again. But you can’t give me that, so I’ll settle for the ship. Riches for death.”

Jeddin said, “For the andros tormented and destroyed and dead, the ship.”

From Andrew‘s left, Torre‘s voice grated. “We all have reparations claims which must be settled. The ship.”

Talizirin burst out, “You mean you committed no crimes, killed no one, hurt no one, in your war on us? No nerve bombs, no beamers? No children and innocents dying in your fire in Aswar Tyrae? Who will pay their reparations?”

The orchid stood tall from the vase. Andrew set the vase back on the table and took the orchid’s stem firmly in his hand, and the orchid became the rose. “I have an answer for your statement,” he said to Frintar, squeezing the stem tight. “An alternative proposal.”

Pain from the stem’s concealed thorns ate slowly into his skin and bones. The star-pricked walls of Arlen‘s chamber unreeled in a flash of darkness. Andrew‘s skin welled red, his blood dripping down inside the narrow neck of the vase to stain its water crimson.

From the chamber deep in the rock of the City, the ship rose slowly through granite toward the surface. A stately, familiar melody wound itself like roots into the arterioles of Andrew‘s heart.