THE FOREVER HERO.

THE SILENT WARRIOR.

L.E. MODESITT, Jr.

I.

TECHNICALLY, THE ROOM was not supposed to exist, for it appeared neither on the official floor plans of the Admiralty, nor in any of the references, nor even in the classified briefing materials provided to the Admiral of the Fleets.

The Admiral of the Fleets knew of the room with its unique equipment, as did the man called Eye. That they did was obvious from their presence within.

The interior walls were not walls, but an arrangement of polygons upon which other equipment remained focused. The soft flooring was designed as well to resist echoes and any duplication or recording of the proceedings.

The admiral wore dress blacks, as he often did. The three others around the table were garbed in black full fade cloaks with privacy hoods. The man called Eye was distinguished only by the seat he had taken at the head of the five sided table.

"You called the meeting, Admiral." The scratchy tone of the voice indicated that Eye employed a voice distorter.

"I did. I have a commission. The file is there." He pointed to the blank cover of the folder on the table in front of Eye.

No one said a word as the Intelligence chief read the material, then passed it to the figure on the right, who in turn scanned the contents before passing it back to the last Intelligence controller.

"We have some questions," began Eye. The hooded heads of the other two nodded in agreement.

"Questions yet?"

Eye said nothing, and with the face lost in the shadows of the hooded cloak, the admiral wondered if he had pushed too far.

Finally, Eye cleared his throat, and his distorted voice, low and even, responded.

"We probably know more about the subject than you do. We considered him as a candidate for Corpus. We chose not to pursue the matter, and based on your material, I would agree that choice was probably wise.

"For many of the same reasons, we are concerned about reopening any possible involvement here, and question the advantage to the Service of doing so."

"Would you feel free to explain?" the admiral asked, not pleading, but with his tone making the other aware that he was asking so far, not demanding.

"His personality is stable, except under extreme stress. Under such stress, he will lose all sense of restraint, common morality, and go for the jugular. His level of stress is higher than anyone ever tested, however, which offers us all protection. His reflexes are naturally better than any single agent, possibly by a factor of two or three, and he has spent at least the last fifty stans teaching himself virtually every single personal weapon known.

"He is adept at circuit design, is probably a goodjourneyman systems breaker, and is one of the best pilots in Service history. We checked the drives of the Sanducar after she was returned. Although they tested normally, indications were that the grav governors had been reset to a higher tolerance, then returned to normal. Given any amount of time, he could do the same to any ship. We do not know what level of acceleration he could tolerate and still function at peak efficiency, but it is high enough to give him an insurmountable edge over any ship fast enough to pursue . . ."

The admiral nodded, not quite impatiently.

". . . also has contacts within the Court able to gain him an open portal to any installation. With his skills, only access would be necessary."

"But the man sleeps, doesn't he?"

"He may. Remember there are at least eight other so called devilkids fully trained, most of whom have similar skills, who remain within Recorps. All are fanatically loyal to him, and he has charged them with carrying out the reclamation effort on Old Earth. That means that they are effectively neutralized at this time."

Eye's hood lifted, and although the admiral could not see the man's eyes, he felt a chill in spite of himself.

"Don't you see, Admiral," asked the Intelligence head, "where this all leads? Do you understand why I am reluctant to take on a commission that could lead to eight totally unrestrained fanatics declaring war on us? It could take a full battle group to catch and subdue each. And for what? Because your subject made you look silly? His actions are centered on one planet. Those actions are considered idealistic by the majority of the Imperial citizenry, by the majority of the Court, and probably by the majority of the I.S.S. officer corps. Farther, he has removed himself from the scene in order to prevent any reprisals at him from affecting the reclamation effort. With all that, you ask that we stir up the mess by trying to remove him?"

"Yes. No individual should be bigger than the Empire. No individual should be able to manipulate public sentiment to break Imperial laws with impunity."

"He didn't, Admiral," added Eye, his voice even softer. "He renounced any claim to return to his planet, even in death. For someone that dedicated, that is punishment. Perhaps not what you wish, but punishment nonetheless. More important, it is regarded as punishment by the majority of the older devilkids. Some of the more recently commissioned officers, as you know, still opted for the Service, and I seriously hope you rereview their records and expunge the Board of Inquiry findings."

The last sentence was nearly a command, and the admiral stiffened. "Are you telling me what to do?"

Eye shook his hooded head. "No. Just hoping you would understand all the factors Intelligence must consider. The man wants to restore his planet. He used force only when necessary and went to elaborate lengths to avoid injury to Imperial personnel. He willingly gave all tile credit to the Emperor, and I might add that such news was worth a plus ten week rate for nearly a month. The Emperor knows that and appreciates it."

"But he stood the Service on end."

"That I doubt. He did upset the High Command. The Service is alive and well." Eye cleared his throat. "Do you want its to deal with the problem?"

"Yes."

Eye turned to the figure on his left.

"Clause five," suggested the cloaked figure, and even with the voice distorter, the softness of tone suggested that the speaker was a woman.

Eye returned his attention to the admiral, whose fingers drummed on the table with scarcely concealed impatience.

"We will solve the problem in our own way. subject to clause fine of our charter."

"That means . . . ?"

"We undertake to solve the problem, either within or without the solution suggested, subject to the Emperor's personal review."

"Which means?" asked the admiral again.

"It means, Admiral, that I will not undertake an ill advised removal action surely geared to cause severe casualties to both Eye section and the Service, as well as public relations and public opinion reversals of the first order, just to soothe the wounded pride of the High Command. Because you feel so strongly, however, I will take action to insure that the Emperor is protected. If my decision is incorrect, I will be removed. Removed, not replaced."

Eye nodded to the figures who flanked him. The admiral's eyes widened, trying to focus on all three figures simultaneously, on the way the two at Eye's sides lifted their robed hands, with the strange devices.

"No-"

The admiral could feel the sudden constriction in his chest, feel the alternative waves of red and black washing up over him.

"Get him back to his office, and call a medical tech. I believe the admiral is suffering a massive heart seizure, poor man."

Clause five. That was the admiral's last thought.

Clause five.

II.

There was in those times a prophet, and when the people asked his name, he answered not, saying instead, what I do should be remembered, for in deeds there is truth, and that truth should be remembered and live, even as men die.

A man from Denv asked the prophet this question.

If a mountain is called a mountain, men call that a fact, for the mountain is, and they can see it is. Likewise a wilderness. Likewise the stars. But when a man calls his deeds truth, are they?

When he calls a mountain the ocean, all can tell he is mistaken. But when he calls himself a prophet, or allows others to call him a prophet, no man can prove or disprove his naming.

Should the prophet walk on water and heal the sick and raise the dead, no one can say whether he is prophet or no, whether he is sent by the angels or the devils, or whether he is master or slave.

Goodness may be done by the evil to ensnare the unwary, and evil by the good to test the worthiness of the people. So by what measure can any person weigh the truth of another's deeds?