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"Dalt will do nicely."
"Mr. Dalt, then," Petrical smiled with relief. "There's one question I must ask you, for
my own sake if not for humanity's: Are you really The Healer?"
Dalt paused, considering his answer. Then, "Does it really matter?"
Furrows appeared on Petrical's brow but Lenda straightened in his chair with sudden
comprehension.
"No, it doesn't." He glanced at Petrical. "At least not for practical purposes. By now
most of Occupied Space considers him The Healer and that's all that matters. Look what
happened: A lone man, outnumbered fifty to one, turns back a murderous assault on
helpless bathers. And that man happens to look exactly like The Healer. The incident
has proven more than enough for the Children of The Healer and I believe it is quite
enough for me."
"But how could you be The " Petrical blurted, but Dalt stopped him with an
upraised hand.
"That is not open for discussion."
Petrical shrugged. "All right. We'll accept it as our basic premise and work from
there."
"To where?"
"That will be entirely up to you, Mr. Dalt," Lenda said.
"Yes. Entirely." Petrical nodded, taking the lead.
"You may or may not be aware of what has been taking place during the last three
standard days. Federation Central has been bombarded with requests for information on
the Clutch incident from all corners of Occupied Space. The isolated slaughters which
until three days ago had been of interest only to the victim planets and even in those
cases of only passing interest are fast becoming a major concern. Why? Because the
Children of The Healer, a group that has previously been of mere sociological interest
because of its origin and its sheer size and long thought defunct has undergone a
tremendous resurgence and is applying political pressure for the first time in its
history."
Dalt frowned. "I never knew they were still around in any number."
"Apparently the group never died out; it just became less visible. But they've been
among us all along, keeping to themselves, growing and passing along the article of
faith that The Healer would one day return in time of crisis and they should be ready to
aid him by whatever means necessary."
"I'm gratified," Dalt said quickly, "but please get to the point."
"That is the point," Lenda said. "People in and around Fed Central have recognized
these assaults as the first harbinger of interstellar barbarism. They see a real threat to our
civilization but have been powerless to do anything about it as you well know. They
could no longer find a common thread among the planets. But the thread was there all
along: your followers. The Children of The Healer form an infrastructure that cuts across
all boundaries. All that was needed was some sort of incident 'sign,' if you will to
activate them, and you provided it down there on the beach. You, as The Healer, took a
stand against the butchery of these assaults, and that suddenly makes opposition to
them a cause for your followers."
"They're working themselves up to a frenzy," Petrical added, "but totally lack
direction. I sent representatives from the Federation Defense Force with offers of
cooperation, but they were uniformly rebuffed."
"That leaves me, I suppose," Dalt said.
Petrical sighed. "Yes. Just say the word and we can turn a rabble into a devoted,
multicentric defense force."
"Blasterfodder, you mean."
"Not at all. The civilians have been blasterfodder for these assaults to date. They're
the ones being slaughtered and they're the ones we want to protect."
"Why don't they just protect themselves?" Dalt asked.
"First off, they're not set up for it. Secondly, the assaults take place in such a limited
area when they hit that there's a prevailing attitude of 'it can't happen here.' That will
eventually change if the number of assaults continues to rise at its present rate, but by
then it may be too late. The biggest obstacle to organizing resistance remains our
inability to name the enemy."
"Weren't there any clues left down on the beach?"
Petrical shook his head. "Nothing. The bodies were completely incinerated. All we
know about the marauders is that they're carbon-cycle beings and either human or
markedly humanoid. The weapons they carried had a lot of alien features about them,
but that could be intentional." He grunted. "A bizarre transport system, strange
weapons, and bodies that self-destruct ... someone's trying awfully hard to make this
look like the work of some new alien race. But I don't buy it Not yet."
Dalt shifted in his chair. "And what do you expect me to do about all this?"
"Say a few words to the leaders of the planetary Healer sects," Petrical replied. "We
can bring them here or to Fed Central or wherever you'd like. All we have to tell them is
they'll see The Healer in person and they'll come running."
"And what's in all this for you?"
"Unity. We can perhaps go a step further beyond a coordinated defense. Perhaps we
can bind the planets together again, start a little harmony amid the discord."
"And inject a little life into the Federation again," Lenda added.
Dalt turned on him, a touch of the old cynicism in his voice. "That would make you
the man of the hour, wouldn't it?"
Lenda reddened. "If you harbor any doubts about my motives which might prevent
you from acting, I will withdraw myself completely from the picture."
Dalt was beginning to see Josif Lenda in a new light. Perhaps this errant politician
had the makings of a statesman. The two species were often confused, although the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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