Brian W. Aldiss by Bow Down To Nul

Author:Bow Down To Nul
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-08-24T18:46:28+00:00

9

MORNING CAME, but with it no word or sign from Rivars.

Since his visit to Rivars' hideout, Towler had deliberately avoided all his underground contacts, lest either he or they were under suspicion. They would get in touch with him when they needed to.

He prayed that the evidence would soon arrive. It would jolt him into making up his mind as to what he should do. Until then, he could only carry on, playing the part that Rivars had instructed him to play, wondering ceaselessly if Par-Chavorlem's offer could be trusted. Towler had no way of knowing that before the day was out a third offer would be made to him.

Whatever Rivars was doing, he was not idle. His troops, after a stiff engagement with the Starjjan force, had driven them back into die broken territory of the Varne Heights. All the while, Terekomy's forces were holding a line to keep the combat from swinging towards the not so distant City. Yet Rivars had foxed them. Leading a small mounted guerilla column himself, he had slipped through the Parrussian lines and devastated the small oil town of Ashkar, from which much of the City's oil was drawn.

Ashkar, unprotected by force screens, suffered casualities; nul and human. The blow to mil self-confidence and esteem was well-planned. Before the opposition could find him, Rivars' column was away again, fading into the night and the forest.

When Towler, primed by Terekomy and looking meeker than he felt, was brought before Synvoret and his retinue, the Signatory was preoccupied with the details of the Ashkar raid.

"You come of a bellicose species," were his first words to Towler.

"Yet we are not conquerors. We desire only peace, sir." "Then why don't you accept the peace Partussy offers you?"

Towler fell silent. For as long as was necessary he must act like a contented colonial. Par-Chavorlem would know of it if he did not—his officers loitered here now in this small council chamber—and he would be whipped away, unable to help anyone, even himself. His job must be to propitiate the Signatory as far as possible until the moment came to drop all pretences, reveal the incontrovertible evidence, and cast himself upon Synvoret's mercy.

Synvoret's hide, *at least where it was not cavered by his uniform, was a milky gray patterned with fine wrinkles. He loomed above Towler, adding his silence to the interpreter's until at last he spoke.

"By doing such things as destroying oil wells you spoil your own material heritage. How does this affect you personally?"

"How can I be responsible for such an act?"

"That is far from being an answer, Interpreter, and I hope you have wits enough to know it. Now let me ask you another question. Suppose you and I are as dissimilar inwardly as we are outwardly. For what reason then, when I am back on Partussy, should we not send each other letters?"

This baffled Towler, not knowing what order of answer was expected of him. On impulse, he answered with a faint smile. "Because there is no correspondence between us.

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