Throughout Mondrian’s reply there had been a slow stirring within the Tinker Composite. As he ended there came a burst of speech, so fast that the computers cut in to decipher and re-translate it.
“Why? gabbled the Tinker. “Why, why, why? In the name of Security, you humans have produced a danger to yourselves and to all the other species of the Stellar Group. Why does anyone need a Morgan Construct? Consider yourselves. You have been exploring the region around your Sun for six hundred of your years. We have watched that exploration for more than three centuries, ever since humans discovered our world and offered us space travel. And what have we seen? The Perimeter now encloses a region one hundred and sixteen lightyears in diameter, with more than two thousand star systems and a hundred and forty-three life-supporting planets. And nowhere, at any place within that vast region, has any species been found that is in any way murderous or aggressive — except your own. You humans are lifting a mirror to the universe, seeing your own faces within it, and declaring the cosmos terrifying. We, the Tinkers, say two things: First, until you created your Morgan Constructs there was no danger anywhere. Second, tell us why you continue this insane rush to expand the Perimeter. It now ends fifty-eight lightyears away from Sol. Will you humans be satisfied when it has reached eighty lightyears? Or one hundred lightyears? Will you stop then? When will you stop?”
Esro Mondrian looked to MacDougal. He saw no support there. “I cannot answer your general questions, Ambassador. However, I can make a relevant point. I have long suggested that the Perimeter be frozen, or at least the expansion slowed. You say that the region within the Perimeter has no dangers to any of us—”
“Had none.” The Tinker was a blizzard of components, flying furiously about the central cluster. “Had none until your species created one.”
“—but the region outside the Perimeter may contain absolutely anything. Who knows how dangerous it might be, to all of us?” Mondrian turned to face the Terran area of the atrium. “With all respect, Ambassador MacDougal, I must say that I agree completely with the Tinker Ambassador. I know that such decisions are made at levels well above mine, but as long as expansion does proceed, something like the Morgan Constructs is essential. We must take measures to protect ourselves against whatever lies — ”
“That’s enough.” Dougal MacDougal moved one hand, and the lights illuminating Esro Mondrian were instantly extinguished. “Commander, you are removed from the witness stand. You were brought here to present a statement of a situation, not to offer your personal — and unsound — views on human exploration. , MacDougal moved out of the atrium, and turned so that he could be seen by the other three ambassadors of the Stellar Group. “Fellow Ambassadors, my apologies to all of you. As you have heard, both these men bear fault in permitting this serious problem to arise. Their own words convict them of error and of negligence. As soon as this meeting is over, you have my word that I will move at once to have them removed from office. They will never again be in a position to—”
“No-o-o.” The word came rolling from the Angel, delivered slowly and heavily through its computer link. “We will not permit such action.”
Rarely for him, MacDougal was caught off balance. “You mean — you do not want me to dismiss Commander Mondrian and Commander Brachis?”
“No indeed.” The topmost frond of the Angel went into slow but wide-ranging oscillation. “That cannot be. The punishment must fit the crime. We, the Angels of Sellora, request a move at once to Closed Hearing. We request full closure, without staff. There should be no one but Ambassadors present.”
“But then the record—”
“There must be no record. The subject for discussion is a question so serious that it can be pursued only in full closed hearing. For this, we invoke our ultimate Ambassadorial privilege.”
Even as the Angel spoke, an opaque screen was flickering into existence around the atrium. The lighted areas around the four Ambassadors were visible for a few seconds more, then there was nothing in the center of the Star Chamber but a ball of scintillating darkness.
Luther Brachis stepped forward to stand next to Esro Mondrian. The two men were alone, outside the dark sphere. Within it sat the four Ambassadors of the Stellar Group. Their earlier meeting had been the first full audio and visual meeting in twenty-two years. Now came the first Closed Hearing in more than a century.
Chapter 2
Mondrian and Brachis had clearly been excluded from the Ambassadorial meeting. Just as clearly, they had not been given permission to leave the Star Chamber. There was nowhere to go, nothing to do.
That should have been no problem. With overlapping areas of jurisdiction, the two men had a thousand points of shared responsibility and a hundred disputes to settle.
But not today. They remained speechless, Brachis pacing and Mondrian sitting in brooding silence, until after two long hours the opaque screen shivered away. The atrium mat it revealed had only two places occupied. The Pipe-Rilla and Dougal MacDougal were still in position, but the Angel and the Tinker Composite had vanished. Even MacDougal’s presence was debatable. He sat crumpled in his seat, like an empty bag of clothes from which the occupant had been spirited away.
The Pipe-Rilla gestured to Brachis and Mondrian to step forward. “We have reached agreement.” The high-pitched voice was as cheerful as ever, but that was no more than an accident of the production mechanism. The Pipe-Rillas always sounded cheerful. The nervous rubbing of forelimbs told a different story. “And since the others are gone, and your own Ambassador appears to be indisposed, it is left to me to tell you the results of our discussions.” The Pipe-Rilla gestured around her, at the two empty places and then at the shrunken, miserable figure of Dougal MacDougal.
“What happened to him?” asked Brachis.
“There was a point of dispute between your Ambassador and the Ambassador for the Angels. The Angel has forceful means of persuasion, even from a distance of many lightyears. I do not understand them, but Ambassador MacDougal will — I trust — recover in just a few of your hours.” The Pipe-Rilla waved a clawed forelimb to dismiss the subject. “Commanders Brachis and Mondrian, please give me your closest attention. I must summarize our deliberations, and our conclusions. First, on the subject of your own blame …”
Mondrian and Brachis froze while the Pipe-Rilla stood, head bowed, for an interminable period. If a human had done such a thing, it would have been by design. But with a Pipe-Rilla …
“All the Ambassadors agree,” said the Pipe-Rilla at last. “You are both responsible in this matter. Commander Mondrian for initiating a project with such enormous potential for danger. Commander Brachis, for failing to make sure that the monitoring for which he had responsibility was suitably carried out. You, and Livia Morgan herself, are culpable in high degree. The willingness of both of you to accept responsibility does you credit, but it is not ultimately relevant. You are guilty. The suggestion of your own Ambassador was that you should be relieved of all duties, dismissed from security service, and stripped of all privileges.”