Free Polaris by Jack McDevitt Page B

smile for that one. “The Mazha.”
    He did a double take.
    I probably did, too. “He’s a thug,” I said. That got me a warning glance. Don’t make waves.
    The Mazha was the ruler of Korrim Mas, an independent mountain theocracy on the other side of the world. It was one of those places that never changed, that hung on generation after generation no matter what was happening around it, that steadfastly refused to seek admission to the Confederacy, largely because they couldn’t meet the democratic requirements.
    They believed that the end of the world was imminent and that the claim that humans had originated elsewhere was a lie. They denied the existence of the Mutes, insisting there were no aliens, and if there were, they wouldn’t be able to read minds. The population lived reasonably well except that some of them disappeared from time to time, and nobody ever criticized the authorities. It was the oldest continuing government on Rimway. It had always been an autocratic state of one kind or another, its people apparently incapable of governing themselves. Every time they got rid of one dynasty, another bunch of gangsters took over.
    â€œHe’s a head of state,” Windy said. She waited for a response, got none, and went on. “He’ll be arriving shortly. When he gets here, they’ll show him to the director’s suite in Proctor Union. We’ll be there, along with the other guests. And, if he’s not averse, we’ll wander over and say hello.”
    â€œGood of him,” I said. “What if I’m averse?”
    Alex sent another cease-and-desist signal. “Why are we involved?” he asked. “Is he here to see the artifacts?”
    â€œYes. And to be seen at a Survey event.”
    I commented that I thought he didn’t believe that starships existed.
    â€œYou’ll have to ask him about that.” She grinned, refusing to take umbrage. I knew her pretty well, and she would have skipped it herself had she been able. But Windy’s loyal. And she liked her job. “Actually, Alex, he’s heard of you. When the director mentioned you’d be here, he asked explicitly to be introduced.”
    The drinks arrived. A sea spray for Alex, red wine for Windy, and dark cargo for me. Windy raised her glass. “To Rainbow Enterprises,” she said, “for its unwavering efforts in the search for truth.”
    That was a little bit much, but we played along. I guess we needed a change of subject anyhow. I drank mine down and would have liked a refill, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to slow down my reflexes on a night when I was going to meet the most murderous individual on the planet.
    The bureaucratic workings, however, made the decision for me. A second round arrived. And I took the lead this time: “To the passengers and captain of the Polaris, wherever they are.”
    Alex drank his down, then stood, examining the glass. “I assumewe’ve given up. Is there any kind of effort at all still being made to find out what happened?”
    â€œNo.” Windy drew the word out. “Not really. There’s an ad hoc committee. But it’s not going anywhere. They’ll respond if anything turns up. And every once in a while somebody writes a book, or does a show on it. But there’s no concerted effort. I mean, Alex, it’s been a long time.” She put her glass down. “When it happened, they sent the entire fleet out there. To Delta Karpis. They searched everywhere. Checked everything they could think of for light-years in all directions.”
    â€œWith no result whatever?”
    â€œZip.”
    â€œWas there never any indication at all,” I asked, “what might have happened?”
    â€œNo. They never found anything.” She glanced down at a bracelet. “We better get going. He’s on the grounds.” She got up and opened the door for us.
    I hesitated. “I’m not