The Dosadi Experiment

"I treated him well," she said.

Her companions gri

The lobby and its radiating hallways were empty.

Good.

Her agent in this building deserved a promotion.

They took a stairway rather than trust an elevator.  It was only three short flights.  The upper hallway also was empty.  Tria led the way to the designated door, used the key her agent had supplied.  The door opened without a sound and they surged into the room.

Inside, the shades had been pulled, and there was no artificial illumination.  Her companions took up their places at the closed door and along both flanking walls.  This was the most dangerous moment, something only Tria could handle.

Light came from thin strips where shades did not quite seal a south window.  Tria discerned dim shapes of furniture, a bed with an indeterminate blob of darkness on it.

"Jedrik?"  A whisper.

Tria's feet touched soft fabric, a sandal.

"Jedrik?"

Her shin touched the bed.  She held a weapon ready while she felt for the dark blob.  It was only a mound of bedding. She turned.

The bathroom door was closed, but she could make out a thin slot of light at the bottom of the door.  She skirted the clothing and sandal on the floor, stood at one side, and motioned a companion to the other side.  Thus far they had operated with a minimum of sound.

Gently, she turned the knob, thrust open the door.  There was water in a tub and a body face down, one arm hanging flaccidly over the edge, fingers dangling.  A dark purple welt was visible behind and beneath the left ear.  Tria lifted the head by the hair, stared at the face, lowered it gently to avoid splashing.  It was her agent, the one she'd trusted for the intelligence to set up this operation.  And the death was characteristic of a Gowachin ritual slaying:  that welt under the ear.  A Gowachin talon driven in there to silence the victim before drowning?  Or had it just been made to appear like a Gowachin slaying?

Tria felt the whole operation falling apart around her, sensed the uneasiness of her companions.  She considered calling Gar from where she stood, but a feeling of fear and revulsion came over her.  She stepped out into the bedroom before opening her communicator and thumbing the emergency signal.

"Central."  The voice was tense in her ear.

She kept her own voice flat.  "Our agent's dead."

Silence.  She could imagine them centering the locator on her transmission, then:  "There?"

"Yes.  She's been murdered."

Gar's voice came on:  "That can't be.  I talked to her less than an hour ago.  She . . ."

"Drowned in a tub of water," Tria said.  "She was knocked out first - something sharp driven in under an ear."

There was silence again while Gar absorbed this data.  He would have the same uncertainties as Tria.

She glanced at her companions.  They had taken up guard positions facing the doorway to the hall.  Yes, if attack came, it would come from there.

The cha

Who will pay? Tria wondered.

She was begi

Gar came back on:  "Are you in immediate danger?"

"I don't know."  It was a reluctant admission.

"Stay right where you are.  We'll send help.  I've notified Broey."

So that was the way Gar saw it.  Yes.  That was most likely the proper way to handle this new development.  Jedrik had eluded them.  There was no sense in proceeding alone.  It would have to be done Broey's way now.

Tria shuddered as she issued the necessary orders to her companions.  They prepared to sell themselves dearly if an attack came, but Tria was begi

***

The military mentality is a bandit and raider mentality.  Thus, all military represents a form of organized banditry where the conventional mores do not prevail.  The military is a way of rationalizing murder, rape, looting, and other forms of theft which are always accepted as part of warfare.  When denied an outside target, the military mentality always turns against its own civilian population, using identical rationalizations for bandit behavior.

McKie, awakening from the communications trance, realized how he must've appeared to this strange Gowachin towering over him.  Of course a Dosadi Gowachin would think him ill.  He'd been shivering and mumbling in the trance, perspiration rolling from him.  McKie took a deep breath.

"No, I'm not ill."

"Then it's an addiction?"

Recalling the many substances to which the Dosadi could be addicted, McKie almost used this excuse but thought better of it.  This Gowachin might demand some of the addictive substance.

"Not an addiction," McKie said.  He lifted himself to his feet, glanced around.  The sun had moved perceptibly toward the horizon behind its streaming veil.

And something new had been added to the landscape - that gigantic tracked vehicle, which stood throbbing and puffing smoke from a vertical stack behind the Gowachin intruder.  The Gowachin maintained a steady, intense concentration on McKie, disconcerting in its unwavering directness.  McKie had to ask himself:  was this some threat, or his Dosadi contact?  Aritch's people had said a vehicle would be sent to the contact point, but . . .

"Not ill, not an addiction," the Gowachin said. "Is it some strange condition which only Humans have?"

"I was ill," McKie said.  "But I'm recovered.  The condition has passed."

"Do you often have such attacks?"

"I can go years without a recurrence."

"Years?  What causes this . . . condition?"

"I don't know."

"I . . . ahhhh."  The Gowachin nodded, gestured upward with his chin.  "An affliction of the Gods, perhaps."

"Perhaps."

"You were completely vulnerable."

McKie shrugged.  Let the Gowachin make of that what he could.

"You were not vulnerable?"  Somehow, this amused the Gowachin, who added:  "I am Bahrank.  Perhaps that's the luckiest thing which has ever happened to you."

Bahrank was the name Aritch's aides had given as McKie's first contact.

"I am McKie."

"You fit the description, McKie, except for your, ahhh, condition.  Do you wish to say more?"

McKie wondered what Bahrank expected.  This was supposed to be a simple contact handing him on to more important people.  Aritch was certain to have knowledgeable observers on Dosadi, but Bahrank was not supposed to be one of them.  The warning about this Gowachin had been specific.

"Bahrank doesn't know about us.  Be extremely careful what you reveal to him.  It'd be very dangerous to you if he were to learn that you came from beyond the God Veil."

The jumpdoor aides had reinforced the warning.

"If the Dosadi penetrate your cover, you'll have to return to your pickup point on your own.  We very much doubt that you could make it.  Understand that we can give you little help once we've put you on Dosadi."

Bahrank visibly came to a decision, nodding to himself.

"Jedrik expects you."

That was the other name Aritch's people had provided.  "Your cell leader.  She's been told that you're a new infiltrator from the Rim.  Jedrik doesn't know your true origin."