Concept YUS (Cross-World Murder Cases Book 1) Page 8

  “I don’t know. Maybe just an extreme vitality.”

  “Why ‘maybe’? Don’t you study them?”

  “Of course, we study them. We study them all the time. We burn them, cook them, cut them, poison them. Not only them but also those trees over there—everything that we come across. You know the appropriate response to such situations, don’t you? When you encounter something unknown, you put on a laboratory coat and a mask and—go!”

  “Why don’t you suggest better ways if you don’t like that response?”

  “The point is I don’t know any,” Elia admitted frankly.

  The field ended, and the green strip I had seen before in the distance turned out to be the beginning of a vast terrain covered with fernlike plants as tall as a man. We drove down a narrow, steep road that cut through them. Interestingly, around the base of each plant grew a nest of light-pink fluff similar to the hairs covering the stems of that “extremely vital” grass.

  As the road descended steeply, Elia turned off the engine. We rode in almost complete silence, the oncoming air fluttering our hair. I closed my eyes and imagined myself back on Earth at some quiet spot filled with familiar greenery.

  Some time later, I commented, “I still don’t understand why you were praising the Yusians.”

  “Never mind,” Elia shrugged. “Just suppose it’s the role I have taken here, and I will keep playing it regardless of your presence.”

  “What about applause? Do you get any recognition for your performance?”

  “I’d consider the hiss of fools a surer sign of success.” Frowning, Elia stared at the road ahead.

  I didn’t let her brood long, although her profile was as appealing as the full face view. “When did you learn of my arrival?”

  “About”—she checked her little gold bracelet watch—“about an hour ago.”

  “So the Yusians gave you the message?”

  “Yes, but it came from Earth.”

  “Are you trying to say—”

  “Look, Terry,” Elia interrupted me with annoyance, “it’s easy. Our people prepared the message and asked the Yusians to give it to us when you reached Eyrena, along with the meeting’s coordinates. That’s it.

  “Hey, Ehrlich! Ehrlich!” she shouted abruptly, waving her hand jubilantly.

  I looked ahead of us just in time to see a tall bony man reluctantly emerging from the ferns by the side of the road. We stopped next to him. He also gave no sign that he expected to see a robot with me.

  “Where are you heading this early?” Elia asked him briskly.

  “You took the jeep, and now you ask me!” the man said, growling.

  “But I had to meet the inspector, Ehrlich. I had to do it right. And you could have waited for us. Why this hurry? By the way”—Elia turned to me and continued solemnly—“Inspector Terence Simon, allow me to introduce to you our exobiologist, Ehrlich Reder!”

  I climbed out of the jeep and crossed to him. Lowering his huge bag to the ground, he came to attention, tapped his heels, and nodded briskly. About forty years old, he had a long ascetic face with a high forehead and an arched nose that resembled a bird’s beak. His thin lips stiffened into an artificial smile; unusually round and inexpressive eyes stared into mine as if they were looking at empty space.

  “I am sorry I didn’t wait for you, Inspector.” Reder spoke with a husky voice and seemingly randomly emphasized some of his words. “I have been very busy lately.”

  “It’s only six or seven kilometers to the base, Ehrlich.” Elia echoed his pattern of emphasis, as if mocking him. “Come with us, and then you can have the jeep.”

  I calculated that Reder must have left for this place right after the message about my arrival came. And what was he carrying in the bag? I wanted to check but knew from experience that such a rough beginning would complicate my job further.

  “Thank you, Elia,” he responded, his voice ice cold. “I will continue on foot.”

  “Well, I’m sorry! I took this route only because I thought we would run into you, but I see now it was just a waste of time.”

  “Good-bye, Inspector! I’ll see you around noon.” Reder tapped his heels again, picked up the bag, and headed up the road.

  Elia grinned behind his back. Once I returned to the jeep, she immediately slammed the gas pedal. The road was still descending, but she was no longer content to coast down.

  “Ambushes, eh?” I asked casually.

  “Well, yes! See how I’m helping you? You just arrived, and there you go, meeting the first suspect! In such a hurry with that big bag on his shoulder—”

  “What was that about the jeep?” I interrupted her babble. “Don’t you have any other means of transportation here?”

  “Oh, we do! Plenty. But Ehrlich wouldn’t use anything else, even in a fire or flood.”

  “Why?”

  “The others are Yusian—that’s why—and he violently detests anything Yusian. If you knew how he felt in the starship.”

  “I think I do understand,” I replied. “But tell me, Elia, was everyone at the base when you left?”

  “No. The mission commander has been at the research field since yesterday.”

  “And the other two?”

  “My colleague was asleep. I guess the deputy chief won’t be available either. He was very drunk. We were having drinks with him when we got the message.”

  “It’s obvious you don’t let your work schedule interfere with parties and sleeping,” I added.

  “It’s night now, Terry. That ugly light up there is Shidexa. Ridon won’t rise for more than four hours.”

  “Oh, I forgot you have two suns.”

  “It’s not a big luxury!” Elia pursed her lips with surprising malice.

  The fern fields ended as abruptly as had the grasslands. We entered an expanse of thick, leafless, cylindrical, deep-crimson plants. But for their rough, cracked husks, they would look exactly like pillars rising from the ground.

  “Are there animals here?” I asked Elia.

  “Unfortunately, we haven’t come across even primitive, unicellular organisms that are not plant related. Nor is the flora very diverse; we’re almost certain that only four kinds of plants grow on the planet. At least on land.”

  “And in the water?”

  “The river and the lake next to the base are as dead as—”

  “I meant seas and oceans.”

  “They will be studied by the future colonists,” she replied, clearly irritated, and drove even faster.

  We covered the remaining distance to the notorious base in silence. Hidden among monstrous trees with five trunks, its walls paneled with rough-hewn wood, the three-story building looked more like a hunting lodge than a research facility. A front terrace and french windows adorned the first floor, while the second and third floors boasted balconies with bronze railings that looked like stylized birds in flight. An old-fashioned new england weather vane, cock and all, perched on the orange slate roof. Above the main entrance hung a deer’s head, with a huge rack of antlers!

  “This, this”—I pointed with my finger because I had almost lost the ability to speak—“this was made by the Yusians?”

  Elia shrugged impatiently, as if to say my question was unnecessary.

  “Oh my God,” I cried, losing my temper. “What are they doing here, mocking us?”

  Elia shrugged again. She stopped the jeep, waited until Jerry and I climbed out, and then drove into the small garage decorated with intricate wood carvings. I gaped inanely after her.

  “Welcome,” I heard a rough voice behind me.

  I turned around. A man in a light suit stood on the terrace, inhaling deeply on the butt of a cigarette vanishing between his fingers.

  “Look at you, Phil! So you got your energy back!” Elia shouted from the garage. “Come on then, meet the inspector. I’m on the verge of total exhaustion! This is Philip Vernie, Terry. You can count on him for anything, as long as it doesn’t really matter and has nothing to do
with his work.”

  Vernie nervously flipped away his cigarette butt and crossed to me, extending his hand. We entered the building together, passed through a wood-paneled foyer, and climbed an elegantly curved staircase to the third floor. The thickly carpeted hall was lined on the right side by doors to apartments with balconies and on the left by windows offering views of the landscape, an unobstructed panorama of a stately forest rising up the hill behind the building.

  When we stopped in front of a window, Vernie opened it and abruptly started to speak, randomly pointing at objects in the hollow. “Over there are the laboratories. We have only three. The medical building is across from here. The tennis court, swimming pool, and gym are on the side. As you can see, the Yusians decided that the sports complex should take up more space than the laboratories. As if to say, ‘Pay more attention to your physique, boys and girls! You’re not evolved enough for science yet.’ And these are the garages. Pretty big, ha? They supplied us with all kinds of vehicles: cargo transports, aircraft. We can’t complain, can we? And those arched buildings—maybe we can call them block buildings?—are for storage. In half of them we stored our own materials, but those are empty now. We used up everything! Those on the other side are still packed with all kinds of materials, but not from Earth, you know. But we don’t go in there. Only robots go there. We have plenty! Long live essiko company, right? Everything belongs to the company! But the laboratories, as you saw for yourself, are small. Other than that, they are perfectly equipped, but—”

  Philip Vernie slammed the window shut and headed down the hall, a short, chubby man with stubby arms and legs, walking so clumsily I thought he might fall. His rumpled suit coat didn’t fit him well. His curly brown hair was parted on the side, apparently with a wet comb.

  “I am now the deputy commander of this base,” he said, turning to me. “Larsen went to the research field. Alone, of course!” He gave me a mysterious wink and then continued, “So here you are now—while I am in charge! What a surprise, ha? I decided to put you in Fowler’s apartment. It’s not bad. The location, I mean. Here it is!” He gestured me through a wide open door. “As soon as Elia left to meet you, I ordered the robots to prepare it for you. Please! Make yourself at home!”

  He made another expansive welcoming gesture, as though he were a hotel proprietor. When we entered the living room, he dove into the first armchair he saw and energetically rubbed his hands together. Jerry then appeared in the company of a robot, who was carrying my suitcases.

  “Leave the suitcases in the bedroom and get lost!” Vernie shouted.

  The robot rushed to carry out his order.

  “This place is literally infested with robots,” Vernie found it necessary to point out again. “When we need them, we can call them right away. But if we don’t need them, why should they be in our way? Am I right?”

  I nodded in agreement and at the same time considered the possible implications of what he said. Was he implying that he knew I had destroyed the robot assigned to me?

  “But come to think of it,” he added, “you’re probably not used to them yet. Where on Earth can you have such luxury?”

  “I’ll get used to them,” I said. “I think I’ll get used to them quickly.”

  I waited to give him an opportunity to reply, but since he restrained himself, I started checking out the apartment. I soon recognized its similarities to the one in the starship—the same floor plan, even the same style of furniture. Apparently Yusians didn’t have much imagination. I came back into the living room and asked, “Well? Are we going out?”

  “No,” he replied. “We can talk here. Fortunately the whole base is constructed solely of materials from Earth, so we managed to take precautions against eavesdropping in the lodge and at all other important places around the complex.”

  “Finally, something good.”

  “Well, yes! At least as far as antisurveillance is concerned, our technical equipment works perfectly. As you know, we have made great progress in that area, especially during the last ten years.”

  We exchanged a look of complicity.

  “Hey, you’re probably hungry,” suggested Vernie, remembering to play the gracious host. “Let’s go to the dining room.”

  I politely refused and sat across from him, hoping that we would get right down to business. But he jumped to his feet and rushed into the kitchen, muttering, “Just a moment.”

  He soon returned, carrying a tray containing three plates of sandwiches, two glasses, and a bottle of wine. He put the tray on the table in front of me, took one of the plates, and put it in front of Jerry.

  “I love animals.” Vernie reclaimed his previous spot with a sigh. “I like all kinds of animals but dogs most of all. And out of all dogs, I like cocker spaniels the best. This one is purebred, I guarantee it! Who gave him to you?”

  “An acquaintance.”

  “I see. Looks like it was a close acquaintance.”

  “Probably.”

  “Exactly—‘probably’! One can never be sure of anything. If you trust anyone too much—you’re lost! Just like me. Because I trusted myself! I overestimated myself, and that’s why I came here. Do you know how I looked before? Like you! I was still shorter than you, of course, but in every other way, I was like you: young, healthy, strong, and handsome. Oh! But now? Look at me. I ruined myself! Just look!”

  It was true. His face was far from young and handsome. But as far as I was concerned, that last epithet never would have fit him anyway. His forehead bulged, his nose was flattened, and his mouth was too wide. Not qualifications for conventional masculine beauty. Nonetheless, this face had something attractive about it. Pleasing and somehow vulnerable at the same time. At least that was the impression created by his eyes—big and warm brown, with a surprisingly childish look despite the red lids and swollen skin around them.

  “How old do you think I am?” he asked and, thank God, saved me from the trouble by answering himself, “Thirty-four! Yes, just thirty-four, but unfortunately you’d never know it now. She thinks I’m almost an old man!”

  “Who is ‘she’?”

  “It’s clear who—Elia.” Vernie poured himself a glass of wine and, with a grimace of deep sadness, took a few sips.

  Here’s Zung’s traditional love drama, I told myself, the short, plain man and the splendid indifferent beauty. Well, fine, I understood, but did the deputy base commander really have to begin with these totally inappropriate revelations?

  “Yes.” I shook my head. “I suppose it’s hard to live this way, far from Earth, and no regular contact—”

  “It’s not just ‘hard.’ It’s unbearable! The Earth is not just ‘far’ away—it’s galaxies away. And we not only have ‘no regular contact’—we have no contact at all!” Vernie specified zealously.

  “No contact? What do you want to say?”

  “I don’t want to say it, Simon! I am saying it. We have no direct contact with Earth. We…well…you probably know better than I do how things are here.”

  It would be tiring and useless to pretend I was thoroughly well informed, but to acknowledge openly that I didn’t know the main facts of the case would be a mistake as well. Once people realize that you expect to learn the truth from them, they can’t resist the temptation to hide or distort it, even when that does them no good. With very little doubt, at the Eyrena base lives at least one person who wouldn’t mind at all if I remained confused.

  “Look, Vernie,” I started, “my trip here was urgent and had to be arranged at the last minute, so I may have the wrong impression about some details. For example, I know you exchange information with Earth mainly through Yusians, but I didn’t know you had no direct contact. Didn’t they give you an independent channel?”

  “No. They didn’t.”

  “But why? Do they have technology problems?”

  “‘Problems’? No way! They can jump over light-years in minutes, and that’s when there’s no need to hurry. But we are not even allowed to cra
wl through their infamous information channels.”

  “But the agreement was signed anyway?”

  “Agreement?” Vernie gulped down his glass of wine. “What agreement are you talking about, Simon? You arrive here after about two weeks spent in a Yusian starship, so those bastards definitely must have tried to communicate with you. You saw some of their advanced technology—disgusting stuff. Well, what kind of agreement could there be in this case? How do you picture it: in black and white with articles, items, and paragraphs? Discussed by competent equals, carefully argued, and mutually negotiated? Signed by designated representatives of two ‘amicable’ civilizations—”

  I cut him off. “Whatever the procedure, clearly the decision to deny humans on Eyrena a direct connection with Earth is enforced by somebody. By somebody. And not necessarily the Yusians, right?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You probably have an opinion, though.”

  Vernie barely considered the question before snapping firmly, “No. I have no opinions. Absolutely no opinions about anything.”

  “Good for you!” I praised him ironically. “And how did you manage to achieve such detached enlightenment?”

  “It wasn’t easy,” he answered. “Only with great difficulty and gradually.”

  “You think this is the best way to behave, do you?”

  “And do you think you will be able to choose how you behave from now on?”

  I shrugged disparagingly. “No matter how hard some people try to deny it, a person always has an opportunity to choose.”

  “But must always choose what circumstances dictate,” Vernie said, with a sigh, and continued without a pause, “I hope you will feel comfortable here. It’s an end unit, and Stein lived on the other side, so—”

  “So I’ll be isolated here?” I guessed the thought he didn’t finish.

  He nodded calmly. He was really beyond all bounds!

  “I appreciate the fact that you made sure I won’t be disturbed, Vernie.”

  “I do my best to look after everyone,” he summarized. “You’re going to be too loud to be a good neighbor.”

  “Loud?”

  “Well, yes, especially in the morning.”