Bright New Universe by Jack Williamson

Author:Jack Williamson [Williamson, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ace
Published: 1966-12-31T22:00:00+00:00

VII

The fan droned through the hot, accusing quiet. Somewhere out in the caserío, a rooster crowed three times. The jaded Jamaicans threw her apron over her ravaged face and fell wailing at Caine’s feet.

“One of us a Judas?” the bare-skulled Turk growled thickly. “Allah be merciful!”

The black Swan had helped Caine into his chair. He swayed weakly forward, resting on his elbows, searching the circle of stricken faces with glazed and burning eyes.

“I know you have not yet learned the transgalactic culture,” his broken whisper rasped. “I know you cannot help the things you do. I try to understand what one of you has done to me. I try to forgive. But it is hard, hard!”

Nobody looked at anybody else.

“Skin me!” A flash of hope in his greenish eyes, Solomon Smith turned suddenly to Polly Ming. “With all your cosmic science, can’t you cure him? Now that you know what this hairy sickness is!”

“We have failed.” The exotic Eastern accent had vanished, leaving her voice cool and bright as the clink of pebbles in a stream. “The virus was cleverly tailored to match a stolen sample of Caines own blood, so that he has no immunity. So far we cannot kill the virus without killing him. If we had more time—”

“We have no time,” Caine’s harsh whisper interrupted her. “Shall we get on with the question of contact?”

“That is our business tonight.” Sadly, slowly, her long eyes swept the circle. “I suppose there is a spy among us, but our decision will be no secret anyhow.”

With an unexpected courtliness, Solomon Smith seated her at the head of the table and sat down at her left. The Jamaicans was still whimpering through her greasy apron, but Jesus Sabin came bowing with dishes for them. As deftly as Pedro, Polly folded her tortilla to make a spoon for her frijoles.

“You understand the conditions.” Her lilting voice held a cool assurance now. “To open contact, we must have the agreement of two teams. The human team was Jason Caine and Tom Jett. Contact has been delayed because they failed to agree.”

“But Jett ain’t playing fair,” Smith put in. “Not when he sends his skinnish killers after Jason.”

“True.” She nodded beneath a halo of rainbows. “Jett has disqualified himself—the spy must tell him that I Her

limpid eyes moved down the table, from Smith to Adam himself. “He has violated the conditions of contact.” Adam flushed before her probing gaze. She looked tantalizingly human. Knowing that she was not, hearing the ring of sure authority in her voice, he felt a chill of awe.

“The virus is a violation because it is an artifact from the outside culture.” Her grave eyes returned to Jason Caine. “At the Man First Headquarters, I observed other violations. Perhaps Jett failed to realize that his own clandestine misuse of ideas and artifacts from the external culture would have to be interpreted as a sanction of contact.”

Jason Caine sat up eagerly.

“You approve?” he gasped. “That is your decision?” “Not yet.” Judicially, she shook her head.

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