I could have explained it to him. I could have said, While 1 live I have a responsibility and a purpose, and they require of me strengths 1 no longer possess. It is not permitted me to stop with the job undone, but 1 cannot go on. Antizone rescues me from this dilemma. I embrace antizone with the the last of my will.
But the explanation itself was too much for me. I merely
nodded and said, "Yes. I will." s
"Good," he said. He then placed the package on the desk and carefully unwrapped it.
Inside there was a notebook with a yellow cover. There were no words on the cover. Triss pushed the brown paper to one side, placed the notebook directly in front of me, and said, "This was your brother's. He kept personal notations of various kinds in here, some just written out and others in code. It was his own private code."
I said, touching the yellow cover with my fingertips, "This belonged to Gar?"
"Yes."
I wanted to ask how this notebook had come to be here, but I was afraid; to ask anything, to think about anything, was only to open it all again, drive me once more into the struggle. Beneath my fingertips the yellow cover seemed warm, as though Gar himself had just put it down and gone away. I took my hand back and put it in my lap.
Triss said, "Toward the back there is a passage in code, headed by the word 'strike.' We know that on his last trip beyond the rim your brother made an important mineral find. The details of that strike, and the location of the site, are given in that code section. So far, no one has been able to break the code; it apparently had some specific personal equivalents for your brother that no cryptographer could possibly know or guess at. But you are his brother; it is just possible you will be able to give us the equivalents. I know some-
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thing about cryptography, and will be able to help you to an extent. When we get to Cannemuss tomorrow our crypto experts will be down from Ni, and they'll be able to help even more.
I said, "I don't know anything about codes." "But you knew your brother, that's the important thing." He flipped the notebook open. It lay on the desk in front of me, and he stood leaning forward and flipping the pages. "It's toward the back," he said.
I sat and watched the pages as they turned. It was Gar's writing; I recognized that neat and economical hand. Some pages had lists, others had long notes, still others merely had sequences of numbers.
I put my hand out and placed it flat on the notebook and stopped the flipping of the pages. "Wait," I said. I had seen my own name on one sheet as it had gone by. Triss said, "It's toward the back."
"Wait," I said. I turned the pages toward the front again, two pages, three pages, and there it was, a long paragraph with my name at the top of the page. It read:
rolf
I am going to have a second chance. This time, I have to do what is right with Rolf. I must not make believe nothing is wrong, I must not try to hide everything under the rug. He has just come from jail and we both know it. I know he'll be all right, but I must be strong. I wish I had Rolf's ability to face unpleasant facts. Maybe I can learn from him, and he can learn patience from me.
I still think it's best to tell Colonel Whistler the truth, even though that means Jenna will find out. But the question is, should I tell Rolf? It's ridiculous for me to think of protecting him, he's always been the one to protect me, but this time it might be better to keep silent, at least for a while. Let Rolf not have to put up that strong silent front he affects when he's embarrassed.
I must keep Rolf away from Jenna. She would push just to see him explode.
We're a couple of emotional cripples, Rolf and me. He's too involved with life, too volatile, too emotional,
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too caught up in everything, and I'm too bloodless, too remote, too bound up in my own inadequacies. Maybe this time Rolf and I can cure one another. God knows I owe him at least a good try, after all he's done for me. I wish I hated Jenna.
Triss said, "We don't have time for all that now. You can keep-the notebook when we're done, and read it cover to cover if you want."
Life will not leave us alone. Weariness draped itself on me like a blanket. Despite everything. I still must act.
I looked up at Triss. If I could have felt anger toward him, or his superiors, or anyone connected with him, it would have been so much easier. But I couldn't, there was no fury in me at all. There was only the responsibility.
I reached out and closed my hand around his throat. I said, "You will tell me about the notebook."
XXXI
it was difficult to get the story from him. Each time he recovered from my attentions he tried to scream for help, so that I finally had to adjust him and make it impossible for him to speak above a whisper. Then his recital was marred by general inconsistency and interrupted from time to time by faintings and bubblings up of blood. But I eventually did get the story and rearranged it into sensible and chronological order:
Behind the name Sledge was an inter-star corporation named Kemistek, an operation quite similar to the Wolmak Corporation and in fact in direct competition with Wolmak. Both Kemistek and Wolrnak maintained spies in the other's employ, and two such Kemistek spies working for Wolmak were Lingo, the entrance guard at Ice Tower in Ulik, and Piekow Lastus, the man who had accompanied Gar on his last trip.
Lastus had no technical education whatever. Although he'd been with Gar when Gar made his last important strike, Lastus could not subsequently have described what the strike
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was nor how to get back to it. All Lastus could do was secretly radio to Sledge, which he did.
Phail and Triss and Elman were sent to intercept Gar at Yoroch Pass. Triss insisted they were not sent to kill Gar but merely to bribe him if possible, or if bribery failed to attempt intimidation. I believe him, since those three were not by nature or occupation killers. If Gar's death had been requested or anticipated, Malik and Rose would have been the ones sent.
But death should always be anticipated on Anarchaos, where all legal and social restraints on individual behavior have been stripped away. Gar refused to be bribed, nor could this trio of puppies successfully intimidate him. Phail waved a gun around. Phail grew increasingly angry. It was surely significant that Phail had recently suffered personal problems, involving a woman on his home world whom he had not seen since coming to Anarchaos fifteen months before. All at once, Phail was shooting. Before anyone realized what was happening, Gar had been shot dead and Piekow Lastus himself was wounded and down on the ground.
At that point, Triss and Elman managed to disarm Phail and keep him from finishing the job on Lastus. Phail wanted Lastus dead because, in the shocked reaction to his deed, he wanted no witnesses. Triss and Elman, frightened of their companion by now, definitely wanted Lastus alive; so long as Lastus lived surely, Phail would not be thinking of killing Triss and Elman.
As to Lastus, he swore never to tell. And why should he tell? To do so, he would have had to admit his status as secret agent for Kemistek. Besides, Kemistek would not pay him a pension, in addition to the disability pension he would be eligible for from Wolmak.