“Did you enjoy it when you were chosen by Old Harvey?” Hellstrom asked, keeping his voice flat.
Saldo swallowed. Had he done something wrong? There’d been a prying coldness about that question. Had he put the Hive in peril? But Hellstrom was smiling faintly, a thin movement of his mouth beneath the nightmask.
“I enjoyed it,” Saldo admitted, but there was uncertainty in his tone.
Hellstrom heard that self-questioning quality in the younger man’s voice, and he nodded. Uncertainty bred caution. One could go from liking authority into a gambler’s stance: overconfident. Hellstrom explained this now in a quiet voice that carried only between them. When he’d finished, Hellstrom said, “Tell me everything you have ordered here.”
Saldo thought for a moment, then took up his account where he had left off. He spoke with noticeable hesitation, questing in his own mind for possible errors, for needed corrections.
Hellstrom interrupted to ask, “Who was first to see the Outsider female?”
“Harvey,” Saldo said, recalling the motion of the old man’s hand, the upthrust pointing finger to denote his discovery. A trickle of perspiration ran down Saldo’s cheek. He wiped at it irritatedly and the action burned his wound.
“What orders did he give then?” Hellstrom asked.
“He had told us earlier that we were to circle her when we found her. We carried that out without orders.”
“What did Harvey do then?”
“He had no chance to do anything. The female turned on her light and immediately began shooting.”
Hellstrom looked down at the ground between them, glanced around. Several nearby workers had left their tasks out of curiosity and had moved closer to listen. “Why aren’t you workers doing as your leader ordered?” Hellstrom demanded. “Your leader gave you specific instructions. Carry them out.” He turned back to Saldo.
“They are tired,” Saldo said, defending his workers. “I will make a personal inspection of their work before leaving.”
This one is a jewel, Hellstrom thought. He defends his people, but not too much. And he takes personal responsibility without hesitation.
“Exactly where were you when she began shooting?” Hellstrom asked.
“I was at the other end of the sweep from Harvey. When we closed the loop, I found myself beside him.”
“Who knocked her out of the tree?”
“The workers across from us where her light did not reach. The rest of us were dodging.”
“And Harvey gave no more commands?”
“I believe he was the first one hit. I heard her first shot and—” he hesitated, shrugged, “for just an instant, I froze. Then I was hit and we were all rushing about. I saw Harvey go down and I started toward him. There were more shots and suddenly it was all over. She fell out of the tree.”
“Your confusion is understandable because you were wounded,” Hellstrom said. “I notice, however, that you kept your sense of balance sufficiently to prevent the killing of the captive. You have lived up to my expectations. But always remember what happened here. You have had a good lesson. The hunting of an Outsider is never the same as the hunting of any other animal. Do you understand that now?”
Saldo knew he had been both praised and censured. His attention went to the tree in which the female had concealed herself, then, reluctantly, back to Hellstrom. Presently, Saldo saw the slight lift of Hellstrom’s mouth that denoted pleasure. Sure enough, Hellstrom said, “You caught the female alive and that’s the important thing.” He pursed his lips. “She carried a weapon and Harvey should have anticipated that. He should’ve brought her down the instant he saw her. He was within range. Do you know bow to use such Outsider weapons, Saldo?”
“Yes—yes, I know. Harvey trained me himself.”
“Learn to use them well. The Hive could have need of such abilities. Let’s see, you’re thirty-two years old, isn’t that correct?”
“Yes.”
“You still could pass for a youth among Outsiders. It may be that we will send you out to one of their schools before long. We have ways of doing such things. You know about this.”
“I have not spent much time Outside,” Saldo said.
“I know. What experiences have you had?”
“Only with others, never alone. About a month in all. I spent a week in the town once.”
“Work or training?”
“Training for myself and others.”
“Would you like to go Outside alone?”
“I don’t think I’m ready for it.”
Hellstrom nodded, pleased with the candor of that answer. Saldo would make a superb security specialist. He already was far and away the most intuitively accurate among the new breed. Give him a bit more experience and there would be none to compare with him. He possessed that beautiful Hive candor. He wouldn’t lie, not even about himself. He was a leader to be preserved and nurtured. Hive conventions demanded this and the present circumstances required that Hellstrom begin that nurturing.
“You are doing very well,” Hellstrom said, speaking loud enough for the others to hear. “When the present crisis is over, we’ll make arrangements to send you Outside for further education. For now, report to me when you’ve finished out here.” He turned slowly, strolled back toward the Hive, pausing occasionally to glance around. Every movement said he was satisfied to leave matters in Saldo’s hands.
For a moment, Saldo watched Hellstrom go. The Hive’s first counselor, leader in every crisis, the prime male, the one to whom all others turned when in doubt-even those who guided breeding and food production and tool fabrication-the chief worker among them all had come out on a fact-finding expedition and had approved what he found. Saldo returned to overseeing the cleanup with a new sense of elation strongly tempered by a deeper respect for his own limitations. That, he realized, had been a major purpose of Hellstrom’s visit.
Minutes of the Hive Council.
Interview with Philosopher-Specialist Harl (translated from Hive-sign): Again, Philosopher Harl, we must disappoint you by telling you we have not come to take you to the blessed vats. Your great age, greater than that of any other worker in the Hive, the artificial means we must use to keep life burning within you, and all the other things your wisdom uses in its arguments that we give you the release of the vats, all of this is difficult to refute. We respectfully request that you cease these arguments and recall the Hive’s great need for your wisdom. We come again to ask your advice on how the Hive should employ the results of a successful Project 40. We can anticipate your first question and must answer it by saying that Project 40 is not yet fruitful. The specialists charged with the project say, however, they can assure us of success. They say it is only a matter of time.
The words of Philosopher-Specialist Harclass="underline" Possession of an ultimate weapon, of an ultimate threat to all of the life that shares this planet, brings with it no guarantee of supremacy. The very act of threatening to use such a weapon, based on certain conditions, puts control of that weapon into the hands of all those who control the conditions. You face the problem of what to do when these others say to you, “So use your weapon!” In this manner, many will have the weapon. Even more to the point, anyone able to threaten the possessor of such a weapon also possesses it. Thus, an ultimate weapon is useless unless those who control it can temper the weapon’s violence. The weapon must have degrees of application that are less than ultimate. Take your lesson from the defense mechanisms everywhere visible in the insects who provide us with our pattern for survival. The spikes and prickles, the stingers and thorns, the burning chemicals and poisoned spears that jut angrily into the air, all of these are, first, defense mechanisms. They say, “Don’t threaten me.”