“He’s controlling this habitat’s government, then?”
“To a large degree, yes.”
“I see,” said Abbott. He pursed his lips, glanced up at the ceiling of his office, squirmed uncomfortably in his desk chair.
At last he said, “Actually, I’m here at your habitat at your request. I’m not a citizen of Haven. I shouldn’t get involved in your politics.”
“But this wouldn’t involve you in our politics,” Umber replied. “All you would be doing is sending a message from me to Harvey Millard, the IC’s executive director. Let him know that I want to converse with him.”
“And you think that Waxman will let my message go through to him?”
“I hope so. He can’t be blocking all of the habitat’s communications with Earth.”
“You think not?”
“I hope not.”
Abbott stared at Reverend Umber’s round, pinkish face. The man seemed sincere enough. More than that. He looked determined, desperate.
“I know Millard,” he said. “He’s a decent chap.”
“Then you’ll call him?”
“It might be better if I didn’t try to reach Millard directly. I’ve been sending progress reports to my people Earthside. I’ll slip your request into one of them. My next one, in fact. It’s due to go out tomorrow.”
Umber broke into a grateful smile. “God bless you, Dr. Abbott! God bless you!”
Syon Shekhar hated it when his meetings broke into a hassle of individual arguments. He stood in front of his twelve local organizers, who packed his living room, taking every chair in his quarters and even sitting on the carpeted floor. Hands on his narrow hips, he watched his subordinates gabbling at one another.
Like a pack of stupid chickens, he thought. This idea has unsettled them all. It’s like nothing they’ve ever heard of.
Despite his distaste, he let them squabble for a full five minutes before calling the meeting to order again.
Standing before them, he said, “There’s nothing much to argue about.” The twelve men and women looked up at him with expressions of surprise, uncertainty, even outright fear on their faces.
“Just sit there and let them hit us?” cried one of the men.
“We could get hurt!”
“Or killed!”
Shekhar waved them to silence. “You saw Reverend Umber’s vid, same as I did. He’s asking for our help. Do we give it or not?”
“We can’t order our people to let themselves get beaten!”
“No,” agreed Shekhar. “It’s all got to be completely voluntary.”
One of the women, her voice quavering, said, “Just sit there and let them hit us?”
“That’s what Reverend Umber is asking of us. He’s asking all the people in the habitat. What’s our answer going to be?”
“I think it’s crazy!”
Another of the women scrambled to her feet. “Listen. The security goons are people like you and me. They’re not going to kill us.”
“No, they’ll just make us wish we were dead.”
Shekhar realized this debate could go on indefinitely. Raising his hands, he asked, “All right, all right. Will you tell your people about this? Ask them to show up when Reverend Umber wants us to?”
They reluctantly agreed. Very reluctantly.
SUSPICION
“I don’t like it,” said the security chief. He was sitting at his desk, as usual, but the expression on his hard-bitten face as he stared at his office wall screen showed suspicion, doubt, worry.
“They’re up to something,” the chief muttered.
Sergeant Jacobi, sitting in front of the chief’s desk, nodded agreement. “Yeah, but what?”
The wall screen showed a section of the habitat’s main passageway filled with men and women walking along. But instead of their usual pairs or individuals, most of them were clustered in groups of five or six or more. They were chattering among themselves, too low for the security microphones set into the ceiling to pick up more than a random snatch of a phrase. Worse, they would occasionally glance up at the cameras and microphones and lower their voices even more.
“They’re up to something,” the chief repeated, his chiseled features set in a grim, hard expression.
Jacobi suppressed an urge to ask again, But what?
The chief focused his steel-blue eyes on Jacobi. “What have you heard?”
With a shrug, the sergeant replied, “Not a helluva lot. Something’s in the wind, that’s for sure. But what it is…” Again he shrugged. “…we don’t know yet.”
“Your informers haven’t picked up anything?”
“I’ve picked up a few hints about ‘passive resistance.’ But what the hell that is and how it fits into the situation here is pretty much a mystery.”
“Passive resistance,” the chief repeated. “Doesn’t sound very dangerous.”
“Maybe not. But just about everybody in the whole damned habitat seems to be in on whatever the hell they’re buzzing about.”
“Everybody except us,” the chief growled.
“We could pick up a couple people at random and squirt ’em with truth serum.”
“And have Umber come howling down on us?” The chief shook his head.
“Maybe if we question the reverend himself…”
“On what grounds? We still have to follow the law. We can’t start an investigation before we know what we’re looking for. This isn’t Chicago, for God’s sake. Or Hitler’s Germany.”
Jacobi didn’t answer. But he was thinking, Umber knows what’s going on. If we could just squeeze him a little, he’d spill his guts.
“So what do we do?” Jacobi asked.
Obviously unhappy, the chief said, “We watch and wait. And lean on our informers.”
We follow the law, Jacobi said to himself. The hoi polloi can keep secrets and we have to try to find out what the hell they’re up to without stepping on any of their precious goddamn rights.
Raven felt the man’s presence, skulking along the passageway behind her. She had put in a full day’s work with Alicia at the boutique, trying hard to keep their plan a secret. Many of the women who came into the place wanted to talk about the passive resistance plan. Raven hushed them and told them to talk to their neighbors in the privacy of their quarters.
Now, as she and Alicia walked along the passageway toward their quarters, Raven said quietly, “We’re being followed.”
Alicia started to turn her head but Raven said, “No! Don’t let him know!”
“You’re sure somebody’s following us?” Alicia whispered.
“He’s been trailing along behind us since we left the shop.”
With a tight little grin, Alicia said, “Well, let’s see what he wants.”
“No!” Raven snapped.
“We’re not doing anything wrong. Let’s ask him why he’s following us.”
Alicia stopped walking and turned to stare at the man approaching them. He was slim, dark-haired, good-looking except for an oversized nose.
He stopped a dozen paces behind the two women, looking suddenly embarrassed, confused.
Alicia called out to him, “Are you following us?”
He coughed once, glanced down at his shoes, then admitted, “Yes, ma’am. I was.”
“What for?” Raven burst. “What gives you the right—”
“Reverend Umber told me to make sure you got home okay. With nobody bothering you.”
“Reverend Umber?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m one of his assistants. He thought that with tomorrow being the big day and all, he didn’t want anything to happen to you two.”
Alicia admitted, “You frightened us… sort of.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”