Descending Road - YOU’RE ALL WASTING TIME by Dana W. Paxson

YOU’RE ALL WASTING TIME

1563 4D

Alone again, Arlen spoke. “Trenzil, achai’n s turinast. Ghurish‘al.” The metallic sentry extended its tendrils in a spreading array toward the ceiliing. Time to call for action. He waited in silence as a clear vertical panel the size of a large table rose from the floor to eye level, and one by one a series of faces appeared on the panel, each face against its own patch of backdrop.

He read their expressions, assigning the likeliest animal to each: Enrit, the regional governor, an annoyed marmot; Talizirin the City chief minister, an apprehensive wolf; Durlow of DurCorp, a defensive bear; Uill of UniCorp, a bored skunk; Frintar the City militia commandant, an angry mother panther; Tren Tarz the regional militia overlord, a torpid steer; five other corp leaders, a pack of anxious well-bred rats; sundry regional and city agency heads, an inscrutable gray-faced crew of assorted rodents; a blank where he expected Rhin from RhoCorp; and finally Gullinder, the senior interagency advisor and top intelligence officer for the region, a stonefaced bull with eyes that stabbed. Gullinder looked away for a moment and yawned.

“We have a problem,” Arlen said to them. “I have reliable reports of a sudden and massive weapon buildup in Sobi Zone, purpose unclear. The quantities involved are well in excess of the usual smuggling.” He fed Parthren‘s datacard into the base of the panel and scanned the resulting reactions. Mixed. “I recommend moving immediately to seal off the zone and search for the weapons and their possessors. Whatever their motives, this cannot be allowed.” He paused. What would stir these officials? “The zone adjoins the South Power Complex, which must be protected for the whole city. I further recommend that to facilitate search and confiscation we cut power to the zone throughout the operation. Given the quick appearance of these munitions, this should be done before one more day passes.” With surprise Arlen noticed the walls of his chamber darkening into a rain forest, lightning flashing through the upper greenery. A sliver of his mind marveled at the seeming support of his words.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve suggested this,” Gullinder said, as Arlen knew he would. “The last time, it was a hunt for spies from out of the region. All we got from supporting that was a bad reputation in Sobi and Rumchi and Poly Town for killing, and now we can’t even get agents in any of those places. Forget any sealing off.”

“Look at the evidence,” Arlen said. “And this ties in with the firefight at the ore terminal the other day. Something big is going on, and I want to stop it before we all lose a lot.”

Several voices started in at the same time. Arlen‘s jaw clamped down. The same old thing: committee rule means no rule. Through the gabble, he waited.

"…and we’ll verify all this, we’ll verify all this,” Talizirin was saying, as Frintar nodded her head, “And then we’ll, well, we’ll move in and search with the help of the locals.”

Arlen snorted. “Help from the locals? When was the last time you got real help from them? Come on.”

“I agree with Talizirin,” Uill said slowly. “This should be done carefully. We can’t afford to alienate the people there.”

“You mean you can’t afford it,” Arlen cut in. “You’ve got a lot invested there in equipment, don’t you? And concessions.” Uill scowled. Arlen knew Uill owned the werecyclase and decatrophinyl traffic. Slavery drugs, traded behind a street remodeling front.

“You have concessions there, Uill?” The city trade commissioner arose heavily from her hibernation.

“Yes. Urban reconstruction.” Uill‘s expression closed into blankness. Arlen smiled inwardly. A little threat of disclosure worked as well as cutting Uill out of the linkup.

“I’m afraid I have to side with Arlen on this one.” Durlow. Arlen almost raised an eyebrow, then realized that Durlow had been anticipating him, afraid Arlen would move alone and grab Sobi. “The Power Complex in Armeni Zone is vulnerable to approach from Sobi below it. And,” he smiled, “I know Arlen‘s stake in the Complex.” Damn him. Why did he have to remind them of that just now?

“We can’t afford to lose any part of the Power Complex there, or even jeopardize it,” said Gullinder. Numerous gray faces nodded in unison, some noses making brief sniffing movements. Arlen kept his smirk inside. “This is delicate. The wrong fast move, Arlen, and we may lose all power for half the City, hydroponics included. And too long a delay, and we may lose control of the situation.”

He paused for a heartbeat, then said, “The current staged relocation is nearing its major ship-out date. The more people we can remove from the affected areas, the less impact any power takeover will have, and the less support it will get from the neighbors. Arlen, I expect you and Durlow to step up the moves and get as many people as possible out of your holdings in the zones adjacent to the Complex. Understood? Give me a committed schedule.”

The man attacked so quickly. Arlen‘s mind turned over the options; he said, “Naga areas and Upper Sobi, two days more. Others, four, the best I can get with transport bottlenecks.”

Gullinder nodded once. “Durlow?”

“Two days for Rumchi, the rest four.”

Gullinder rolled on. “Talizirin, never mind verification. What we need is detail, and quickly. I will personally see to it that the necessary detail is available in the next halfday. Expect a call from me then, and we will be able to act immediately.” He cut out of the circuit.

As the others all began to talk across each other, Arlen turned his face aside in disgust. His mind raced. Parthren would not be back in time for this. He jacked his voice gain control, faced the panel again, turning quickly to draw attention to his image, and spoke loudly and firmly. “You’re all wasting time.”

At the blast of words, they froze, and he eased his voice level back, saying, “Gullinder is right. I move we follow his example, get information from our own sources without creating suspicion, and be ready when he calls us together again.” Durlow‘s brow rose slightly, then settled. The rest, I can fool, but not him.

Nods began, and Talizirin said, “Very temperate, for you, Arlen. I agree. This is no time to debate further.” One by one they signed off and cut out, except for Durlow, whose image stared blandly back at Arlen.

Durlow spoke. “Very temperate. Ha.” And with a sneer and a raised eyebrow, he cut off.

Arlen lowered the panel out of sight again. “Mentrius,” he said to the ceiling. He waited a few breaths. A rasping low voice spoke from the air.

“Mentrius here.”

“Bring me your planning and enforcement officers, right now, and the latest topo of Sobi Zone and environs. And I need your best estimate of muster for tonight and the next five days. We have both battle planning and relocation speedup to arrange.”

“In ten minutes, done. Acceptable?”

“Yes.” Arlen turned to Trenzil again. “Trenzil, achai’n s Durlow.”

The panel rose again, and Durlow‘s image appeared. “I was waiting for this. Well?”

“You and I both stand to lose from this approach to fighting in Sobi. My reasons are plain, and I know yours: the utilities easements through Sobi into Rumchi.” Durlow looked pained. Perfect.

“I won’t waste time asking you how you knew that. What do you propose?”

“Taking the initiative. Even if we don’t move directly on Sobi, let’s get our police into key positions around and between the zones. We can stay out of Poly Town — the zones surround it. I suggest the following.” Arlen summoned a rough topo of the zones, marking intersections and corridors in his and Durlow‘s colors. The topo floated in front of the screen.

“With a few adjustments,” Durlow responded, sketching changes that appeared on Arlen‘s topo, “it makes sense. What about the timing? Relocation routes may be a problem.”

“The relocation schedule will have to move up, fighting or not. Let the rebels worry about where their beams go. We need soldiers in place in six hours, before the militia starts their survey for position,” Arlen said. “I think Gullinder is going to jump the gun too. Can you do it?”

“Jumping the gun is a specialty of mine,” Durlow said, with a deadpan look.

A warning surfaced in the words: Don’t try it on me. Arlen said, “Understood. How about a progress report in three hours?”

“I’ll call you.” They broke off together. Minutes later, Mentrius and his officers arrived with datasheets and cards. Arlen had them on their way in an hour, positions and orders settled. Durlow always guessed right; but even when he anticipated, it came too late. Arlen flopped into a chair the size of a bed, turned his face to the ceiling, and called, “Innnndrio.”

Story List	SURPRISE ME	Author Page
USER SURVEY	PUZZLE ME	MAKE ELM MARK

HOVER Lucida Bright BARE	HOVER Lucida Bright FULL	HOVER Palatino Linotype BARE
HOVER Palatino Linotype FULL	HOVER Times New Roman BARE	HOVER Times New Roman FULL
PAD Arial BARE	PAD Arial FULL	PAD Lucida Bright BARE
PAD Lucida Bright FULL	PAD Times New Roman BARE	PAD Times New Roman FULL


	YOU’RE ALL WASTING TIME 1563 4D Alone again, Arlen spoke. “Trenzil, achai’n s turinast. Ghurish‘al.” The metallic sentry extended its tendrils in a spreading array toward the ceiliing. Time to call for action. He waited in silence as a clear vertical panel the size of a large table rose from the floor to eye level, and one by one a series of faces appeared on the panel, each face against its own patch of backdrop. He read their expressions, assigning the likeliest animal to each: Enrit, the regional governor, an annoyed marmot; Talizirin the City chief minister, an apprehensive wolf; Durlow of DurCorp, a defensive bear; Uill of UniCorp, a bored skunk; Frintar the City militia commandant, an angry mother panther; Tren Tarz the regional militia overlord, a torpid steer; five other corp leaders, a pack of anxious well-bred rats; sundry regional and city agency heads, an inscrutable gray-faced crew of assorted rodents; a blank where he expected Rhin from RhoCorp; and finally Gullinder, the senior interagency advisor and top intelligence officer for the region, a stonefaced bull with eyes that stabbed. Gullinder looked away for a moment and yawned. “We have a problem,” Arlen said to them. “I have reliable reports of a sudden and massive weapon buildup in Sobi Zone, purpose unclear. The quantities involved are well in excess of the usual smuggling.” He fed Parthren‘s datacard into the base of the panel and scanned the resulting reactions. Mixed. “I recommend moving immediately to seal off the zone and search for the weapons and their possessors. Whatever their motives, this cannot be allowed.” He paused. What would stir these officials? “The zone adjoins the South Power Complex, which must be protected for the whole city. I further recommend that to facilitate search and confiscation we cut power to the zone throughout the operation. Given the quick appearance of these munitions, this should be done before one more day passes.” With surprise Arlen noticed the walls of his chamber darkening into a rain forest, lightning flashing through the upper greenery. A sliver of his mind marveled at the seeming support of his words. “This isn’t the first time you’ve suggested this,” Gullinder said, as Arlen knew he would. “The last time, it was a hunt for spies from out of the region. All we got from supporting that was a bad reputation in Sobi and Rumchi and Poly Town for killing, and now we can’t even get agents in any of those places. Forget any sealing off.” “Look at the evidence,” Arlen said. “And this ties in with the firefight at the ore terminal the other day. Something big is going on, and I want to stop it before we all lose a lot.” Several voices started in at the same time. Arlen‘s jaw clamped down. The same old thing: committee rule means no rule. Through the gabble, he waited. "…and we’ll verify all this, we’ll verify all this,” Talizirin was saying, as Frintar nodded her head, “And then we’ll, well, we’ll move in and search with the help of the locals.” Arlen snorted. “Help from the locals? When was the last time you got real help from them? Come on.” “I agree with Talizirin,” Uill said slowly. “This should be done carefully. We can’t afford to alienate the people there.” “You mean you can’t afford it,” Arlen cut in. “You’ve got a lot invested there in equipment, don’t you? And concessions.” Uill scowled. Arlen knew Uill owned the werecyclase and decatrophinyl traffic. Slavery drugs, traded behind a street remodeling front. “You have concessions there, Uill?” The city trade commissioner arose heavily from her hibernation. “Yes. Urban reconstruction.” Uill‘s expression closed into blankness. Arlen smiled inwardly. A little threat of disclosure worked as well as cutting Uill out of the linkup. “I’m afraid I have to side with Arlen on this one.” Durlow. Arlen almost raised an eyebrow, then realized that Durlow had been anticipating him, afraid Arlen would move alone and grab Sobi. “The Power Complex in Armeni Zone is vulnerable to approach from Sobi below it. And,” he smiled, “I know Arlen‘s stake in the Complex.” Damn him. Why did he have to remind them of that just now? “We can’t afford to lose any part of the Power Complex there, or even jeopardize it,” said Gullinder. Numerous gray faces nodded in unison, some noses making brief sniffing movements. Arlen kept his smirk inside. “This is delicate. The wrong fast move, Arlen, and we may lose all power for half the City, hydroponics included. And too long a delay, and we may lose control of the situation.” He paused for a heartbeat, then said, “The current staged relocation is nearing its major ship-out date. The more people we can remove from the affected areas, the less impact any power takeover will have, and the less support it will get from the neighbors. Arlen, I expect you and Durlow to step up the moves and get as many people as possible out of your holdings in the zones adjacent to the Complex. Understood? Give me a committed schedule.” The man attacked so quickly. Arlen‘s mind turned over the options; he said, “Naga areas and Upper Sobi, two days more. Others, four, the best I can get with transport bottlenecks.” Gullinder nodded once. “Durlow?” “Two days for Rumchi, the rest four.” Gullinder rolled on. “Talizirin, never mind verification. What we need is detail, and quickly. I will personally see to it that the necessary detail is available in the next halfday. Expect a call from me then, and we will be able to act immediately.” He cut out of the circuit. As the others all began to talk across each other, Arlen turned his face aside in disgust. His mind raced. Parthren would not be back in time for this. He jacked his voice gain control, faced the panel again, turning quickly to draw attention to his image, and spoke loudly and firmly. “You’re all wasting time.” At the blast of words, they froze, and he eased his voice level back, saying, “Gullinder is right. I move we follow his example, get information from our own sources without creating suspicion, and be ready when he calls us together again.” Durlow‘s brow rose slightly, then settled. The rest, I can fool, but not him. Nods began, and Talizirin said, “Very temperate, for you, Arlen. I agree. This is no time to debate further.” One by one they signed off and cut out, except for Durlow, whose image stared blandly back at Arlen. Durlow spoke. “Very temperate. Ha.” And with a sneer and a raised eyebrow, he cut off. Arlen lowered the panel out of sight again. “Mentrius,” he said to the ceiling. He waited a few breaths. A rasping low voice spoke from the air. “Mentrius here.” “Bring me your planning and enforcement officers, right now, and the latest topo of Sobi Zone and environs. And I need your best estimate of muster for tonight and the next five days. We have both battle planning and relocation speedup to arrange.” “In ten minutes, done. Acceptable?” “Yes.” Arlen turned to Trenzil again. “Trenzil, achai’n s Durlow.” The panel rose again, and Durlow‘s image appeared. “I was waiting for this. Well?” “You and I both stand to lose from this approach to fighting in Sobi. My reasons are plain, and I know yours: the utilities easements through Sobi into Rumchi.” Durlow looked pained. Perfect. “I won’t waste time asking you how you knew that. What do you propose?” “Taking the initiative. Even if we don’t move directly on Sobi, let’s get our police into key positions around and between the zones. We can stay out of Poly Town — the zones surround it. I suggest the following.” Arlen summoned a rough topo of the zones, marking intersections and corridors in his and Durlow‘s colors. The topo floated in front of the screen. “With a few adjustments,” Durlow responded, sketching changes that appeared on Arlen‘s topo, “it makes sense. What about the timing? Relocation routes may be a problem.” “The relocation schedule will have to move up, fighting or not. Let the rebels worry about where their beams go. We need soldiers in place in six hours, before the militia starts their survey for position,” Arlen said. “I think Gullinder is going to jump the gun too. Can you do it?” “Jumping the gun is a specialty of mine,” Durlow said, with a deadpan look. A warning surfaced in the words: Don’t try it on me. Arlen said, “Understood. How about a progress report in three hours?” “I’ll call you.” They broke off together. Minutes later, Mentrius and his officers arrived with datasheets and cards. Arlen had them on their way in an hour, positions and orders settled. Durlow always guessed right; but even when he anticipated, it came too late. Arlen flopped into a chair the size of a bed, turned his face to the ceiling, and called, “Innnndrio.”