"Now then, who requires my services first?"
Like Pulaski and a handful of others, Gutierrez was among those drawn the next morning by an announcement of Eichra Oren's first public session as a p'Nan assessor. Moral debt had been much on the general's mind over the past few days, especially the past few hours, and especially in connection with the amateur paleontologist. He knew she was unhappy with the assignment he and Empleado had imposed on her. What she didn't knowwhat thousands of years of military tradition would never have allowed him to tell herwas that he despised himself for having given her the order.
"I do, Eichra Oren."
Something flowed from an edge of the crowd. Gutierrez's first impression was of a human stick-figure rendered in red-orange pipe cleaners with an extra leg standing in place of its head. His second, a product of hundreds of nature documentaries watched with half an eye and half a mind, was of a deep-sea brittle starfish with long, sinuous arms and a ceramic-looking pentagonal "torso" where the arms met. Its voice was human enough, even pleasant.
For the most part, the general's mind was elsewhere, still focused on Pulaski. However reluctantly, he was acting on secret orders, direct from the American KGB, through a watcher-of-the-watchers code-named "Iron Butterfly," officially unknown to him until minutes before his meeting with Toya. "Officially" was a flexible word: Gutierrez had made it his business from the first premission training day to know his people, including the backup undercover agent charged with keeping an eye on the expedition's overt political officer, Arthur Empleado, as well as its first-string covert operative, Richardson. What he hadn't realized until now was that it was also Iron Butterfly's job to report to the Banker on everyday activities and attitudes of the expedition's thirty-odd surviving "heroes."
"Very well," the debt assessor replied, "and you are?"
The creature approached on two of its delicate limbs and suddenly relaxed onto the ground beside him. "I'm Clym Pucras."
"Greetings, Clym Pucras." Eichra Oren entwined an arm with it and released it. "Will you tell me your profession?"
"I'm a machine-tool designer."
Gutierrez also knew (never mind how, he thought) that Iron Butterfly was a bitter, twisted spirit. Contrary to the agent's officialand completely phonybackground story, Iron Butterfly's homeland was a Caribbean satellite which had almost broken free from Russian influence just before America had willingly adopted Marxism, spoiling everything for the little island nation. That this should make Iron Butterfly a more zealous instrument of Soviet policy didn't make a lot of sense, but it was a common, extremely human reaction, reflecting a certain vindictive fatalism.
"Would you describe yourself," Eichra Oren went on, "as a sovereign individual of fully intact sapience?"
Clym Pucras lifted a tentacle and splayed the tip into a five-fingered hand. "Without undue modesty, I would."
"Does anyone dispute this?" The man lifted his eyes to the crowd. The muttering of a single individualanother starfish creaturearose and died without any real dispute being offered.
The general had every confidence that Empleado's sources kept him well aware of Iron Butterfly's machinations. He regarded Empleado as a tolerable moderate, unmoved by any humanitarian spirit but by a physical squeamishness which produced the same results. The tragedy (for the expedition, anyway) was that to keep himself above suspicion, he must now pursue his job with a zealand crueltyhe wouldn't otherwise have exhibited.
"That being established," Eichra Oren returned to his client, "where do you live, Clym Pucras?"
The creature waved a limb again, part of its body language, Gutierrez guessed. "I presently make my home on the south side of the uppermost branch level of the third tree west of the matter-energy converter."
"Within the Elders' Settlement on the asteroid known as 5023 Eris?"
"Yes, that's correct."
Thus, between them, Iron Butterfly, to whom brutality came naturally, and Empleado, fearful and ambitious, had already combined to make life miserable for Pulaski. Gutierrez feared that she was only the first such victim.
"So much for formalities," came the reply. "What can I do for you?"
Clym Pucras rose a centimeter or so, turned slightly, and resettled himself. Or herself, the general thought. Or itself. "I request that you render an assessment with regard to appropriate restitution, inasmuch as I've recently trespassed against the physical property of one Babnap Portycel, creating on my part a state of moral indebtedness to him."
"You committed this trespass willfully," Eichra Oren raised his eyebrows, "against that being's plainly expressed wishes to the contrary?"
"I'm afraid I did." Clym Pucras' limbs drooped.
"Babnap Portycel is also a resident of the Settlement on 5023 Eris?"
"Yes," Clym Pucras answered, "also of the third tree west of the matter-energy converter, on the south side of the uppermost branch levelsave one."
The assessor looked at the crowd again. "Is Babnap Portycel here today?"
"He is," Clym Pucras told him.
Eichra Oren showed a palm. "Let's have him answer for himself, shall we? Babnap Portycel, will you identify yourself? Are you present?"
The former mutterer arose on wiry limbs. "Reluctantly, Eichra Oren."
"Wait a minute," Pulaski turned to the general, whispering. "It's the trespasser, not the property owner, who's bringing suit? Against himself?"
"Shhh!" Gutierrez answered impatiently.
Not having heard the byplay, Eichra Oren went on. "Your reluctance is duly noted. Clym Pucras, one more question before we begin. Do you object to your assessment being rendered in public, as an example to our human guests?"
"Not at all," answered the starfish-creature. "I intended it to be exemplary. I'd be honored."
Pulaski whispered again. "What does he mean `begin'? This character has already admitted to the crime. What else is left but the sentence?"
"Shhh!" replied Gutierrez, the same as before.
"All right, Clym Pucras, you might start by telling me about the trespass in your own words. Try to be brief, but I want the whole story."
As if struggling against its own weight, it tilted itself until the pentagonal portion of its body, now diagonal, could be seen. "Gladly, Eichra Oren. I was pacing the balcony of my dwelling yesternoon, preoccupied with the repeated failure of certain plasma drills I had designed for Mister Thoggosh, when I missed my stepI'm not quite sure what happenedand fell over the rail. My species are somewhat frail of constitution compared to othersI make no excuse, mind youand a fall of that distance to the ground would certainly have killed me. I took the only chance I had and seized the rail of Babnap Portycel's balcony as I passed it, one branch level below."
"I see," Eichra Oren told the creature. "Please go on."
"Babnap Portycel saw me from within. He rushed out complaining that I was on his property without permission and demanded that I let go the rail."
"In order to fall to your death." Gutierrez knew Eichra Oren well enough by now to see that he was suppressing some facial expression, although he wasn't sure which. "I gather that you didn't comply."
"I considered it, letting go the rail, thinking that I might stop my fall again on the next level below. But by that time I had grown fatigued and feared that I might not be able to save myself that way twice. As I say, I make no excuse for my unprincipled behavior."
"That, too, is noted," observed the man, "although I suggest that you leave the final judgment to me. You're paying me to make it, after all. What did you do?"
Clym Pucras gave a shrug. "I pulled myself onto his balcony, entered his dwelling, and made my exit in a conventional manner, out his front door and up the spiral staircase which services all the dwellings on that tree."
"I see. Did Babnap Portycel resist you, either when you pulled yourself over the rail or made your exit through his apartment?"
"No, and I'm grateful. He continued to complain bitterly. I acknowledge that he'd have been within his rights to push me off or shoot me."
"Indeed he would." Eichra Oren nodded. "Did you linger in his apartment or proceed straight to the door?"
"The latter. Babnap Portycel's rather shrill voice was giving me pain in my auditory organsalthough I concede that he was well within his rights."
Eichra Oren looked up. "Babnap Portycelyou needn't risehas Clym Pucras accurately described what happened yesterday?"
Gutierrez happened to be closer to this member of the species and had a better view of it. Neither seemed to be wearing the transparent plastic moisture suits affected by many aquatic species, but they did speak through thin-film sound transducers affixed to their carapaces.
"He has, Eichra Oren, although now that the damage is done, I wish he hadn't bothered! He violated my rights! I don't want his restitution!"
"I don't suppose you do, Babnap Portycel." Eichra Oren's voice was suddenly weary, as if he'd heard it all a thousand times. "I suspect you'd find it far more satisfying to have him remain in your moral debt for the rest of his life. Well, as an assessor of the p'Nan school, I can't permit that, and I won't. Civilization rests on the ability and willingness of individuals to pay their moral debts to one another."
Babnap Portycel made a snorting noise which, despite his utterly alien shape, reminded Gutierrez of Grumpy from Snow White.
"Now, Clym Pucras," Eichra Oren continued, "ordinarily I wouldn't ask this question and you're certainly not obliged to answer, but our guests may find what you have to say enlightening. If Babnap Portycel doesn't want any restitution, why did you come to me?"
"I want my other neighbors to know that, despite what I did to Babnap Portycel, I continue to respect their right to property and privacy, just as I respect his. I want them to understand that, like any decent individual, I'm willing to pay my debts in full, moral and otherwise. Also, Eichra Oren, I'd rather not remain indebted to a curmudgeon like Babnap Portycel."
This time the man couldn't resist a chuckle. "I can't say that I blame you. Anything else?"
"Now that you mention it. I feel self-conscious saying this in the presence of a famous debt assessor who deals with this sort of thing every day, but I was concerned about the precedent that might be set by Babnap Portycel's refusal to accept restitution."
"Nor can we force him, since that would establish an even worse precedent. On this Earth it's called `eminent domain.' But I believe I know what you mean. Would you mind explaining for our guests?"
The pentagonal shape with five sinuous tentacles sprouting from its sides swiveled to face Gutierrez. "Thinking afterward, I was deeply troubled. It had been an emergency. But my use of Babnap Portycel's property, if it were to become generally acceptable, would inevitably be abused. The time is long past when anyone who lives among the Elders may assert his need as a claim upon the lives of others, as I gather is customary among humans. The word `emergency' is subjective: people would begin cutting through a neighbor's propertymine, for examplemerely for the sake of convenience. Such violations are habitual and progressive. Before long we'd be living like animals, reduced to the level of . . ." Clym Pucras swiveled to Eichra Oren, "I can't remember the human expression."
" `Socialism,' " stated the assessor, "and I fully agree. Your trespass was understandable in the circumstances and Babnap Portycel's refusal to help at least unkind. But as one of the few great human philosophers once observed, one's need doesn't constitute a mortgage on someone else's life. Babnap Portycel was not morally obliged to tolerate your presence, let alone to help you.
"Now on one hand, the purpose of property rights in particular and of moral codes in general is to support the lives of sapients. On the other, they must support the lives of the specific sapients they belong to, or they're without meaning. You acted to preserve your life, something we can all sympathize with and, in a different context, even commend. However, as you say, should need become a general excuse for violating individual rights, then all of our lives, in effect, would eventually be forfeit, defeating the whole reason for having moral codes in the first place. Your concern was well-placed."
"Thank you, Eichra Oren.
He raised a hand. "Don't thank me yet. I also agree with your choice of words. Babnap Portycel is as curmudgeonly a being as I've heard of. Of course, that's his right. And curmudgeons, whether they intend it or not, do all of us a favor. In many cultures, miners take small birds into the earth to warn themthrough their fragile metabolismsof poison gases or a lack of oxygen. Curmudgeons are their moral equivalent. Any culture which fails to uphold the rights of curmudgeons, no matter how inconvenient, no matter how tempting it is to cut corners `this once,' degenerates until no one has any rights, not even nice people.
"Now, Clym Pucras," asked the assessor, "how long would you estimate you occupied Babnap Portycel's property without his permission?"
"I'm not certain. Perhaps a minute, perhaps two."
"To be safe," declared Eichra Oren, "I advise that you offer him five minutes' rent on his rail, balcony, and dwelling at the most exorbitant rate being charged in that neighborhood. I estimate that this should come to five hundred copper sandgrains. Have you that much with you?"
"Yes, Eichra Oren, I believe I have." One tentacle held out five copper coins, another proffered a token of gold. "And enough to pay you, as well."
"You and I can settle later, Clym Pucras. Go ahead and pay him now."
Clym Pucras arose, approached Babnap Portycel where the latter now sat alone in a clear area in the middle of the crowd, and offered him the copper coins. Babnap Portycel slapped them from his cosapient's manipulator.
"I told you, I don't want your money!"
Clym Pucras turned expectantly to Eichra Oren.
The assessor nodded. "You've done your best, Clym Pucras. Babnap Portycel has refused restitution in front of witnesses. Go home now and see whether the neighbors whose good opinion you value don't agree that the moral balance has been restored."
" `Go thou,' " Pulaski whispered, " `and sin no more.' "