Read Operation Haystack Page 5

centralnervous system."

  "How horrible," whispered Diana.

  Orne's mind felt suddenly like a fish out of water. He found himselfgrasping at a thought that flopped around just out of reach. "Dad was inpolitics," he whispered. He felt as though he were living in a dream.His voice stayed low, shocked. "From when I first began to talk, Motherstarted grooming me to take his place in public life."

  "And you didn't like politics," said Diana.

  "I hated it!" he growled. "First chance, I ran away. One of my sistersmarried a young fellow who's now the member for Chargon. I hope heenjoys it!"

  "That'd be Maddie," said Diana.

  "You know her?" asked Orne. Then he remembered what Stetson had toldhim, and the thought was chilling.

  "Of course I know her," said Diana. "Lew, what's wrong with you?"

  "You'd expect me to play the same game, you calling the shots," he said."Shoot for the top, cut and scramble, claw and dig."

  "By tomorrow all that may not be necessary," she said.

  Orne heard the sudden hiss of the carrier wave in his neck transceiver,but there was no voice from the monitor.

  "What's ... happening ... tomorrow?" he asked.

  "The election, silly," she said. "Lew, you're acting very strangely. Areyou sure you're feeling all right." She put a hand to his forehead."Perhaps we'd--"

  "Just a minute," said Orne. "About us--" He swallowed.

  She withdrew her hand. "I think my parents already suspect. We Bullonesare notorious love-at-first-sighters." Her overlarge eyes studied himfondly. "You don't feel feverish, but maybe we'd better--"

  "What a dope I am!" snarled Orne. "I just realized that I have to be aNathian, too."

  "You _just_ realized?" She stared at him.

  There was a hissing gasp in Orne's transceiver.

  "The identical patterns in our families," he said. "Even to the houses.And there's the real key. What a dope!" He snapped his fingers. "_Thehead!_ Polly! Your mother's the grand boss woman, isn't she?"

  "But, darling ... of course. She--"

  "You'd better take me to her and fast!" snapped Orne. He touched thestud at his neck, but Stetson's voice intruded.

  _"Great work, Lew! We're moving in a special shock force. Can't take anychances with--"_

  Orne spoke aloud in panic: _"Stet! You get out to the Bullones! And youget there alone! No troops!"_

  Diana had jumped to her feet, backed away from him.

  _"What do you mean?"_ demanded Stetson.

  _"I'm saving our stupid necks!"_ barked Orne. _"Alone! You hear? Orwe'll have a worse mess on our hands than any Rim War!"_

  There was an extended silence. _"You hear me, Stet?"_ demanded Orne.

  _"O.K., Lew. We're putting the O-force on standby. I'll be at theBullones' in ten minutes. ComGO will be with me."_ Pause. _"And you'dbetter know what you're doing!"_

  It was an angry group in a corner of the Bullones' main salon. Louveredshades cut the green glare of a noon sun. In the background there wasthe hum of air-conditioning and the clatter of roboservants preparingfor the night's election party. Stetson leaned against the wall beside adivan, hands jammed deeply into the pockets of his wrinkled, patchedfatigues. The wagon tracks furrowed his high forehead. Near Stetson,Admiral Sobat Spencer, the I-A's Commander of Galactic Operations, pacedthe floor. ComGO was a bull-necked bald man with wide blue eyes, adeceptively mild voice. There was a caged animal look to hispacing--three steps out, three steps back.

  Polly Bullone sat on the divan. Her mouth was pulled into a straightline. Her hands were clasped so tightly in her lap that the knucklesshowed white. Diana stood beside her mother. Her fists were clenched ather sides. She shivered with fury. Her gaze remained fixed, glaring atOrne.

  "O.K., so my stupidity set up this little meeting," snarled Orne. Hestood about five paces in front of Polly, hands on hips. The admiral,pacing away at his right, was beginning to wear on his nerves. "Butyou'd better listen to what I have to say." He glanced at the ComGO."_All_ of you."

  Admiral Spencer stopped pacing, glowered at Orne. "I have yet to hear agood reason for not tearing this place apart ... getting to the bottomof this situation."

  "You ... traitor, Lewis!" husked Polly.

  "I'm inclined to agree with you, Madame," said Spencer. "Only from adifferent point of view." He glanced at Stetson. "Any word yet onScottie Bullone?"

  "They were going to call me the minute they found him," said Stetson.His voice sounded cautious, brooding.

  "You were coming to the party here tonight, weren't you, admiral?" askedOrne.

  "What's that have to do with anything?" demanded Spencer.

  "Are you prepared to jail your wife and daughters for conspiracy?" askedOrne.

  A tight smile played around Polly's lips.

  Spencer opened his mouth, closed it soundlessly.

  "The Nathians are mostly women," said Orne. "There's evidence that yourwomenfolk are among them."

  The admiral looked like a man who had been kicked in the stomach. "What... evidence?" he whispered.

  "I'll come to that in a moment," said Orne. "Now, note this: theNathians are mostly women. There were only a few _accidents_ and a fewplanned males, like me. That's why there were no family names totrace--just a tight little female society, all working to positions ofpower through their men."

  Spencer cleared his throat, swallowed. He seemed powerless to take hisattention from Orne's mouth.

  "My guess," said Orne, "is that about thirty or forty years ago, theconspirators first began breeding a few males, grooming them for reallychoice top positions. Other Nathian males--the accidents wheresex-control failed--they never learned about the conspiracy. These newones were full-fledged members. That's what I'd have been if I'd pannedout as expected."

  Polly glared at him, looked back at her hands.

  "That part of the plan was scheduled to come to a head with thiselection," said Orne. "If they pulled this one off, they could move inmore boldly."

  "You're in way over your head, boy," growled Polly. "You're too late todo anything about us!"

  "We'll see about that!" barked Spencer. He seemed to have regained hisself-control. "A little publicity in the right places ... some keyarrests and--"

  "No," said Orne. "She's right. It's too late for that. It was probablytoo late a hundred years ago. These dames were too firmly entrenchedeven then."

  * * * * *

  Stetson straightened away from the wall, smiled grimly at Orne. Heseemed to be understanding a point that the others were missing. Dianastill glared at Orne. Polly kept her attention on her hands, the tightsmile playing about her lips.

  "These women probably control one out of three of the top positions inthe League," said Orne. "Maybe more. Think, admiral ... think what wouldhappen if you exposed this thing. There'd be secessions, riots,sub-governments would topple, the central government would be torn bysuspicions and battles. What breeds in that atmosphere?" He shook hishead. "The Rim War would seem like a picnic!"

  "We can't just ignore this!" barked Spencer. He stiffened, glared atOrne.

  "We can and we will," said Orne. "No choice."

  Polly looked up, studied Orne's face. Diana looked confused.

  "Once a Nathian, always a Nathian, eh?" snarled Spencer.

  "There's no such thing," said Orne. "Five hundred years' cross-breedingwith other races saw to that. There's merely a secret society of astutepolitical scientists." He smiled wryly at Polly, glanced back atSpencer. "Think of your own wife, sir. In all honesty, would you beComGO today if she hadn't guided your career?"

  Spencer's face darkened. He drew in his chin, tried to stare Orne down,failed. Presently, he chuckled wryly.

  "Sobie is beginning to come to his senses," said Polly. "You're aboutthrough, son."

  "Don't underestimate your future son-in-law," said Orne.

  "Hah!" barked Diana. "I _hate_ you, Lewis Orne!"

  "You'll get over that," said Orne mildly.

 
"Ohhhhhh!" Diana quivered with fury.

  "My major point is this," said Orne. "Government is a dubious glory. Youpay for your power and wealth by balancing on the sharp edge of theblade. That great amorphous thing out there--the people--has turned