Timothy Zahn

Conquerors' Heritage

 

Conquerors Saga, book 2

 

1

"Searcher Thrr-gilag?"

Slowly, Thrr-gilag lifted his gaze from his contemplation of the stained restraint suit resting across his legs. "Yes, Ship Commander Zbb-rundgi?"

"The Diligent is ready to lift," Ship Commander Zbb-rundgi said. "We're waiting on your arrival."

"Thank you," Thrr-gilag said. "I'll be just a few hunbeats longer."

Zbb-rundgi's eyes flicked around the alien study group's private conversation room. "The disassembly crew can deal with the rest of the equipment, Searcher," he said. "There's nothing here you have to supervise."

"I understand," Thrr-gilag said. "As I said, I'll be a few hunbeats longer."

Zbb-rundgi's midlight pupils might have contracted slightly. At his distance Thrr-gilag couldn't tell for sure. "The Overclan Prime's instructions were quite clear, Searcher," the ship commander said. "We were to leave as soon as we were ready."

"And we're not yet ready," Thrr-gilag told him. "You may return to the ship and make any final prelaunch preparations. I'll be there in a few hunbeats."

This time there was no doubt about the pupils. "As you wish, Searcher," Zbb-rundgi said stiffly. Turning, he stalked out of the room.

"That was foolish," a distant voice said in the silence. "Ship Commander Zbb-rundgi holds great favor among the leaders of the Cakk'rr clan, as do the Elders of his family. It is not wise for one in your position to antagonize him."

"My position is that of duly appointed speaker of this mission, Chrr't-ogdano," Thrr-gilag reminded him, fingering one of the darklight sensors in the restraint suit, still partially caked with red dirt from the Human Pheylan Cavanagh's escape attempt. "Until the Overclan Seating revokes that appointment, I'll do whatever I deem necessary. Whether it irritates Ship Commander Zbb-rundgi or not."

"Thrr-gilag, you will look at me."

With a sigh Thrr-gilag raised his eyes to the faint shape floating in the air before him. Chrr't-ogdano, Elder of the Kee'rr clan and chief observer here on Base World 12. And if the look on his mostly transparent face was any indication, he had even less respect for Thrr-gilag's official standing right now than Ship Commander Zbb-rundgi did. "Don't play word games with me," the Elder bit out. "By title you may still be speaker of the mission. The position I refer to is that of the Zhirrzh whose actions allowed the Human prisoner Pheylan Cavanagh to be rescued by his people."

"The blame for that will fall wherever it may," Thrr-gilag said. "Until that time I don't think a certain degree of respect is too much to ask."

Chrr't-ogdano's tongue flicked out in scorn. "Authority is something that can be assigned; respect is something one must earn. If you're too young or too drunk with the taste of power to understand that, then perhaps you shouldn't have been given the speakership in the first place."

Thrr-gilag pressed his tongue against the top of his mouth, choking off the words that wanted to come out. "I'm sorry if I've disappointed you," he said instead. "I did the best I could."

Some of the hardness faded from Chrr't-ogdano's face. "What has happened has happened," he said, his voice heavy with resignation. "Only history now can judge your actions."

Which was not to say, of course, that Chrr't-ogdano hadn't already made up his mind about history's likely evaluation. Or that Ship Commander Zbb-rundgi and the rest of the mission hadn't, either.

And to be honest, Thrr-gilag couldn't really blame them. True, the scheme he'd improvised to recapture Pheylan Cavanagh had worked out exactly as he'd anticipated, a point he planned to emphasize when he presented his case before the Overclan Seating. They'd let the Human into the alien spacecraft and allowed him to activate it, giving the watching Elders valuable information about its operation. Then, again as anticipated, a sudden, clear look at one of the Elders had distracted the Human long enough for Thrr-gilag to slash away his restraints and inject a minuscule amount of tongue poison into his shoulder. New information, a prisoner recaptured with minimal trouble, it should have been little more than a sidelight to the day's report.

But none of them had known about the Human fighter warcraft poised overhead to strike. And the fact remained that if the prisoner had been safely under guard in his cell when the enemy swooped down a few hunbeats later, the rescue might have been thwarted.

Or maybe the Humans would simply have demolished the encampment, raised every Zhirrzh in the mission to Eldership, and taken Pheylan Cavanagh back anyway.

Thrr-gilag shivered, the edge of his tongue scratching lightly against the inside of his mouth at the memory. Those fighter warcraft had been unbelievable. Incredibly fast, incredibly maneuverable, incredibly destructive. In coloration and performance they'd matched perfectly the warcraft that had slashed to a sudden halt the beachhead advance on the Human world of Dorcas, warcraft his brother Thrr-mezaz had suggested might be the mysterious Copperhead warriors mentioned in the Human recorder.

Or could they possibly have even been the exact same warcraft?

Thrr-gilag frowned as that ominous thought struck him. If the Copperhead warriors had been able to slip out past the Dorcas encirclement force... "I want to speak with my brother," he told Chrr't-ogdano. "Thrr-mezaz; Kee'rr, commander of the Zhirrzh ground warriors on Dorcas."

"Now?" Chrr't-ogdano asked, taken aback. "Wouldn't it be better to speak with him from the Diligent?"

"To appease Ship Commander Zbb-rundgi, you mean?" Thrr-gilag asked pointedly.

"To appease the dictates of common sense," Chrr't-ogdano shot back. "Or do you wish to still be here when the Human warcraft return in greater numbers?"

Thrr-gilag sighed. "They won't be returning anytime soon," he said. "As I've already explained to Ship Commander Zbb-rundgi. It's been nearly six tentharcs since the rescue—if the Humans had had more warcraft nearby, they would certainly have attacked by now. Any future attack must therefore be coming from one of their worlds. At least another fullarc away, probably more."

"That's an assumption."

"It's the consideration of a specialist in aliens and alien cultures," Thrr-gilag snapped, suddenly tired of all these arguments. No one had questioned Svv-selic like this when he'd been in charge. "A pathway to Thrr-mezaz, if you please."

"I obey," Chrr't-ogdano said, glowering, and vanished.

Across the room the door opened, and one of the technics came in pushing a carrier. "Anything new on our prisoners?" Thrr-gilag asked her.

"They're still asleep," the technic said as she pushed her carrier over to one of the three remaining tissue-analysis units. "But their metabolic levels seem to be recovering from the trauma of the transfer aboard ship. The healers think a few more hunbeats should do it."

"Good," Thrr-gilag said, finding a minor flicker of gratification in the fact that this, at least, seemed to be working out. It wasn't the taste of power on his tongue that was delaying their departure, as Chrr't-ogdano and Zbb-rundgi both seemed to think. It was, rather, an overriding concern that their two new alien prisoners might die from their mysterious injuries before they even made it off the planet. Transferring them aboard the Diligent had been risky enough, in the healers' opinion, and Thrr-gilag wanted the aliens to have as much time as possible to settle in before they were subjected to the stresses of liftoff.

Ship Commander Zbb-rundgi hadn't been able to grasp that concept. Or was simply too nervous about anticipated Human attacks to care about healers' warnings. But as long as Thrr-gilag stayed outside the Diligent, he retained the final word on when the ship lifted. "Have the Elders been able to learn anything about their injuries?"

"They're still doing studies," the technic said, the last word almost lost in the brief screech of ceramic against ceramic as the tissue analyzer came up off the floor and onto the carrier. "So far they're as puzzled as the healers are."

There was a flicker beside Thrr-gilag, and Chrr't-ogdano was back. "I have a pathway to Commander Thrr-mezaz," he growled. "Begin."

"This is Thrr-gilag," Thrr-gilag said, wondering what had taken Chrr't-ogdano so long. There was supposed to be a permanent straight-line pathway between here and all three of the Zhirrzh beachheads. Had something gone wrong? "Base World Twelve was attacked about six tentharcs ago by Human fighter warcraft of the type described in your last report. Question: are you certain both of those warcraft are still on Dorcas?"

Chrr't-ogdano nodded and vanished again. Thrr-gilag waited, watching the technic maneuver the tissue analyzer to the door and counting the time to himself. It would take around fifteen beats, he estimated, for each repetition of the message, beginning with whichever communicator Chrr't-ogdano had made contact with on the Zhirrzh homeworld of Oaccanv. From that Elder, then to another, and possibly another, until the message reached the shrine of someone who was also serving as communicator with the Dorcas ground force. Then a similar delay as Thrr-mezaz's return message wended its way back along the same route. The last time he'd talked with someone at the Dorcas beachhead, the round trip had taken roughly 120 beats. It ought to be something similar this time.

He was up to 190 beats when Chrr't-ogdano reappeared. " 'Both warcraft are still here,' " he delivered the message. " 'Are you injured, my brother?' "

Thrr-gilag flicked his tongue in a wry smile. That was Thrr-mezaz, all right. He would be the overprotective worried big brother until both of them were raised to Eldership. Probably even after that. "I'm fine," he said to Chrr't-ogdano. "You?"

" 'Last I checked, I was still here,' " the reply came back a hunbeat later. At least Thrr-mezaz hadn't lost his dry sense of humor. " 'How badly was your base damaged?' "

"Hardly at all," Thrr-gilag said. "It was an extremely precise attack."

" 'They were somewhat less so here. How many spacecraft did they use?' "

"We saw only five fighter warcraft," Thrr-gilag said. "Though there might have been others outside our detection range. Why? Is the number important?"

" 'It could be,' " the answer came back. " 'If we had some idea of how many warcraft the Humans had committed to their search, it might give us an idea of the size of their overall force. Unless they were just checking systems at random and had immensely good luck.' "

"I doubt that was it," Thrr-gilag said. "We know they also looked at Survey World Eighteen. The Diligent and Operant nearly caught that group, but they got away."

" 'Then they must have covered all the likely systems in the area around the battle site,' " Thrr-mezaz concluded. " 'That's a huge number of systems.' "

"Much too huge," Thrr-gilag agreed, frowning. "They must have had some way to narrow the possibilities down."

" 'I concur,' " the answer came back. " 'Unfortunately, that leads to two troubling conclusions. First, that they were able to get extremely detailed readings of our environmental requirements from the survey ships; and second, that they have a detailed catalog of all the systems in this region. I can't see how else they could have limited their search enough to have succeeded so quickly.' "

Thrr-gilag grimaced. "I'm afraid I have to agree with you," he said. "Unless they've found a way to track ships through the tunnel-line. That would have done it, too."

" 'Don't even joke about such things,' " his brother warned. " 'That's how rumors get started; and the more impossible the story, the faster it spreads. I presume you're evacuating your base?' "

"Yes," Thrr-gilag said. "We've been ordered back to Oaccanv. Where I'll no doubt be called before the Overclan Seating."

" 'No doubt. Be careful how you speak to them. The Too'rr clan was not at all happy with you for taking Svv-selic's place as speaker of the study group.' "

At least that was one thing they couldn't blame on him. "Not my doing," he told his brother. "Our Elders demanded Svv-selic be demoted after he let the Human get too close to the pyramid."

" 'Be careful anyway.' "

"Of course." Thrr-gilag frowned. "Is anything wrong there? The pathway seems longer than it was five fullarcs ago."

The delay this time seemed even longer; and Thrr-gilag was just wondering if he should send one of the other Elders to try to get Chrr't-ogdano back when he reappeared. " 'We've lost the pathway you and I spoke through back then,' " the Elder repeated Thrr-mezaz's words, his faint voice gone suddenly grim. " 'One of our communicators disappeared two fullarcs ago. Prr't-zevisti; Dhaa'rr.' "

Thrr-gilag felt his midlight pupils narrow with shock. "How in the eighteen worlds did that happen?"

" 'Human warriors raided one of the pyramids and took his fsss cutting,' " the reply came. " 'We tracked him back to their encampment, at which point his reports via his family shrine abruptly ended.' "

"They killed him?"

" 'Or else somehow managed to capture him. All we know is that in the fullarcs since then he hasn't been heard from. Not here, nor at his family shrine on Dharanv.' "

"I see," Thrr-gilag murmured. "How did the Humans breach your defense perimeter?"

" 'They didn't have to. As it happens, all four pyramids are outside the encampment.' "

"Outside?" Thrr-gilag echoed. "Whose flat-headed idea was that?"

" 'Mine. It was an experiment to see if the Elders could help supplement the sentry line.' "

Thrr-gilag flicked his tongue. "The Dhaa'rr leaders aren't going to be at all happy about this."

" 'Their unhappiness has already been expressed to me,' " the dry response came. " 'I expect they'll be expressing it to you, as well, once you're up before the Overclan Seating.' "

"I appreciate the advance warning," Thrr-gilag said, checking the time. The alien prisoners should have had enough time to recover now. At least as far as they were going to. "I have to go now, my brother. Keep yourself safe, and I'll speak with you again soon."

" 'I'll be careful,' " Chrr't-ogdano repeated the words. " 'You, too. Farewell.' "

"Farewell." Thrr-gilag nodded to the Elder. "Thank you, Chrr't-ogdano. You may release the rest of the pathway now. It's time to go."

"Good," Chrr't-ogdano grumbled. He gestured toward the door with his tongue. "What about the pyramid? Are you still planning to leave it here?"

"We're hardly going to be able to watch the Humans when they return without it," Thrr-gilag pointed out, frowning at the worried expression on the Elder's face. "Why? Are you afraid?"

"After what happened to Prr't-zevisti?" Chrr't-ogdano countered. "Of course I'm afraid. You would be too."

Thrr-gilag grimaced, reaching behind his head to touch the small scar at the base of his skull, arguments and soothing words swirling through his mind and dissolving into silence on his tongue. Theoretically, of course, nothing the Humans did to an Elder's fsss cutting there should have any effect on the rest of the finger-sized organ, safely nestled in its shrine niche 250 light-cyclics away. At the first sign of danger, all Chrr't-ogdano and the other Elders should have to do would be to flick back to their shrines, and they'd be perfectly safe.

But theory was one thing. A group of nervous Elders worried for their survival was something else entirely. And to be fair, as far as Thrr-gilag knew, the theory had never been tested.

"The observers on Study World Eighteen," Chrr't-ogdano said. "Remember the report? They felt the pain of the Human Elderdeath weapons."

"But they were still anchored at their cuttings watching the Humans," Thrr-gilag reminded him. "But you have a point. Very well. Inform Ship Commander Zbb-rundgi that I've reversed my decision and that the pyramid is to be taken back home. And tell him we'll leave as soon as it's aboard."

"I obey," Chrr't-ogdano said, looking more than a little relieved.

He vanished. Alone again, Thrr-gilag stood up, pressing the edge of his tongue hard against the inside of his mouth as he draped the restraint suit across his shoulders. So here they were again: the Zhirrzh at war with yet another new alien race. Aliens who, like all the others who had gone before them, had attacked them on sight. Aliens with powerful explosive missiles and small but vicious fighter warcraft, who used Elderdeath weapons with a free hand. Aliens who owned twenty-four worlds, against eighteen worlds of their own, who held at least eight other alien races under their domination.

Aliens who wielded the terrifying weapon Pheylan Cavanagh had described for him. The awful killing device called CIRCE.

Taking one last look around the silent conversation room, Thrr-gilag headed for the door and the ship that lay beyond. And hoped fervently that Warrior Command and the Overclan Seating hadn't sliced off more than they could eat.

 

2

It was just over 250 light-cyclics to Oaccanv: nearly thirty-five tentharcs at stardrive speed. Three and a half long fullarcs for Thrr-gilag to lie in his cabin, studying the records of Pheylan Cavanagh's imprisonment and sharpening his knowledge of the Human language. And wondering what might be happening elsewhere as they flew through the darkness between the stars.

Fortunately, he didn't have to wonder in similar darkness. Ship Commander Zbb-rundgi had quietly instructed everyone aboard—unofficially, of course—to ostracize the young upstart searcher who had allowed the Human prisoner to escape and, probably more important, had treated the ship commander's advice with perceived contempt. But neither Nzz-oonaz nor Svv-selic seemed interested in taking the order seriously, and they kept Thrr-gilag up-to-date on the progress of the Zhirrzh expeditionary forces currently in Human space.

The Elders' reports were sparse but generally favorable. On all three Human target worlds the defending warriors appeared to have been taken by surprise, though that hadn't stopped them from counterattacking with their explosive missiles and Elderdeath weapons. But they'd been routed, usually after only a tentharc or two of fighting, fleeing out into wilderness areas. Beachheads had been established and encirclement forces deployed in orbit, and now it was largely a matter of securing the territory and waiting to see how the Humans would respond to this returning of the war to their gatestep.

If this was, in fact, merely a turning of the war back on its creators.

It was a disturbing thought, and one which occupied the corners of Thrr-gilag's mind throughout the voyage. He trusted the Elders, certainly, and the Elders' report had stated unequivocally that at that first contact the Humans had been the aggressors. But at the same time, Thrr-gilag found it hard simply to ignore the words of Pheylan Cavanagh, who seemed to have been equally convinced that it was the Far Searcher and the other Zhirrzh survey ships which had fired first.

Probably the Human was lying. Almost certainly the Human was lying. But still, a thin edge of doubt remained. Thrr-gilag could only hope that when he got to Oaccanv, he would be able to erase that edge.

 

"All rise and prepare for service," the intoning voice of the chamber hailer boomed out. The words echoed faintly from the loudspeakers throughout the huge room, an echo quickly drowned out by the scuffling of a thousand Zhirrzh rising from their couches. "The Overclan Seating of the Zhirrzh people is now in session," the hailer called over the noise. "All honor the Overclan Prime."

Behind the podium the doors swung open, and the Overclan Prime stepped into view. For a few beats he stood in the doorway, silently surveying the crowded chamber. Then, holding aloft a kavra fruit for all to see, he sliced through it twice in the ancient ritual of openness and trust. Placing the lacerated fruit on the low table beside the door, he wiped his fingers on a cleaning cloth and continued forward. He walked between the two shrines—the larger, in standard white ceramic, for the general Overclan family; the smaller, of carved black stone, for the Overclan Primes themselves—nodding with respect to each as he passed. "I greet the Speakers of the Thousand Clans," he said, seating himself on his couch and gesturing for the Speakers to do the same. "We are met to consider the disturbing events of four fullarcs ago that necessitated the evacuation of Base World Twelve. Searcher Thrr-gilag, Kee'rr; Searcher Svv-selic, Too'rr; Searcher Nzz-oonaz, Flii'rr: step forward."

His two colleagues beside him, Thrr-gilag walked up to the witness box beside the podium, the sweet-sour aftertaste of the poison-neutralizing kavra juice mixing with the acid nervousness on his tongue as he tried to read something—anything—from the Prime's expression. Hoping to get some idea where the titular leader of the Zhirrzh race stood on all this.

But the Prime's face was a mask. And small wonder. For five hundred cyclics, ever since the founding of the Overclan Seating, this family-without-a-clan had given its sons and daughters to live and work in the sprawling complex that served the Overclan, its members allied to no one, beholden to no one, favoring no one, opposing no one. No Zhirrzh could have risen through those select ranks to become Overclan Prime without long ago learning how to bury all personal thoughts and prejudices deeply within him.

"Searcher Thrr-gilag," the Prime said, those deep eyes boring into him. "As designated speaker of the alien specialist group on Base World Twelve, you bear the ultimate responsibility for the events of four fullarcs ago. Events that resulted in the escape of the Human prisoner of war, the evacuation of an importantly placed Zhirrzh base, and the raising of eight Zhirrzh to Eldership. We have read your reports, along with the comments and opinions of your communicators and those Elders who were assisting in your studies. Now we wish to hear your thoughts."

And my excuses? Thrr-gilag wondered. But again the Prime's face gave him no clue as to what the other might be thinking. "You have heard the facts of the incident," he said, forcing himself to look out at the rows and rows of clan Speakers gazing back at him. The Speakers, and the hazy cloud of silent Elders that filled the domed ceiling above the couches. "The Human prisoner was able to block the sensors of his obedience suit with mud," he continued, "and was able to seize both myself and one of my technics before we could move away. He held us as shields against the warriors and demanded entry to the newly arrived alien spacecraft."

"And did you so fear Eldership that you called off the warriors?" a voice growled from the first row of couches.

Thrr-gilag focused on him. It was a very well-known face: Cvv-panav, Speaker of the powerful Dhaa'rr clan. "I did not fear Eldership, Speaker," he said. "Indeed, I'd already risked that result by ordering the warriors to use flashblind weapons against the Human. They proved ineffective."

"Then you should have ordered them to use lasers," Cvv-panav insisted.

"Perhaps," Thrr-gilag said. "I agree, the situation was potentially dangerous. But I also saw in it a way to gain valuable information."

Cvv-panav sniffed. "We were already gaining valuable information—"

"The Speaker for Dhaa'rr will be silent," the Prime interrupted mildly. "What information do you refer to, Searcher Thrr-gilag?"

"The alien spacecraft had been damaged during its capture," Thrr-gilag said. "Zhirrzh observers had watched as its crew brought it to a landing, but that crew had been severely injured, and it was not known how long they would survive. It occurred to me that if we allowed the Human aboard the craft, our Elders would be able to see how the flight sequence was initiated. I therefore gave the order to allow him access to the craft."

"A dangerous risk," one of the other Speakers said. "And for so slight a gain. Our warrior searchers would surely have been able to learn the craft's secrets."

"Besides, the aliens have survived," Cvv-panav added. "Which means that the risk was for nothing at all."

"Perhaps," Thrr-gilag said. "But I didn't know that then. As for the aliens, their survival is still greatly in doubt."

"What is not in doubt is the fact that your gamble failed," Cvv-panav shot back. "The Human has returned to his people with knowledge about the Zhirrzh. You should have killed him."

"That may not have done any good," Thrr-gilag said, bracing himself. Here it came; and it was not going to be well received. "In my opinion it is not impossible that the Humans have Elders of their own."

He'd expected a roar of outrage from the assembly, or at least a hissing gasp of astonishment. The deathly silence was more unnerving than either of the other two reactions would have been. "Have you proof?" the Prime asked.

"Not as yet," Thrr-gilag said, trying to keep his voice and tail steady. "But there are indications. The Human was quick to notice our fsss scars, asking many questions about them. Furthermore, he also had a similar scar just so"—he traced the place on his abdomen—"indicating a spot from which a fsss-sized organ had clearly been removed."

"An interesting location for a fsss organ," the Prime commented. "Was this removal determined by medical instruments or direct Elder observation?"

"Both," Thrr-gilag said. "I ordered the Elder observation after our discussion about the fsss with the Human."

"A discussion which I stated at the time should not have occurred," Svv-selic put in. "It provided information—"

"The searcher will be silent," the Prime said. "Allow me to point out, Searcher Thrr-gilag, that five other Human bodies were briefly examined after the space battle. None showed any sign of such scars."

"Yes, I know," Thrr-gilag said. "And if the Humans do indeed have Elders, that might indicate that they're socially still in an extremely primitive state."

"Impossible," Cvv-panav snorted. "They have a highly advanced technology."

"Technology level and social structure are not necessarily related," Thrr-gilag said. "The Human Pheylan Cavanagh was apparently equivalent in rank to a Zhirrzh ship commander. If he, and he alone of all his warriors, had had his fsss removed, it might indicate that the Humans are at a stage comparable to Zhirrzh society before the First Eldership War."

For a few beats the chamber was silent. "Considering the barbarism of that era, that would be unpleasant news indeed," the Prime said at last. "Yet it would be consistent with the savagery of their attack on our survey ships. Can we assume we're dealing with a clan-structured feudal system, then?"

"Possibly," Thrr-gilag said. "But we mustn't forget that they're aliens. We can't simply project our own history onto them."

"And we similarly mustn't forget that wisps of imagination don't condense into hard ceramic," Cvv-panav said contemptuously. "To spin such a theory from a single Human scar walks the line between fever dream and stupidity."

"Perhaps," Thrr-gilag said, feeling his midlight pupils narrow with annoyance. "I would remind the Speaker that one of the Human's first actions was to try to reach the pyramid of our observers and communicators. That would imply some knowledge of its purpose."

"Coincidence," the Speaker said. "Or simple curiosity."

"Was it also coincidence that the Human warcraft who found Study World Eighteen immediately sought out and attacked the observers' pyramid with Elderdeath weapons?" Thrr-gilag countered. "Or coincidence that the Human forces on Dorcas deliberately stole a fsss cutting?"

He paused for breath... and as he did so, he suddenly noticed that all eyes in the vast chamber seemed to be frozen on him. He glanced at the Prime, back at the first row of speakers, settled on the thunderous expression of Speaker Cvv-panav...

He looked back at the Prime, feeling his tail begin to speed up. Was Prr't-zevisti's disappearance supposed to have been a secret?

"Your initial testimony is hereby at an end, Searcher Thrr-gilag," the Prime said, his voice and face still unreadable. "You will stand down and await further examination. The Overclan Seating thank you for your time."

"The honor is mine, Overclan Prime," Thrr-gilag said, a sinking feeling at the base of his tongue as he stood up from the couch. His words were long gone into the air, with no way to retrieve them. If the expression on Speaker Cvv-panav's face was anything to go by, Thrr-gilag might soon wish he could vanish along with them.

 

The other testimony was finished, and the Speakers were filtering out for the midarc meal, when the summons Thrr-gilag had been dreading finally came.

"You are called to the private office of the Overclan Prime," the Elder told him, his voice and manner short. "Follow me."

Thrr-gilag sighed silently. "I obey," he said.

It was a long, lonely railcar ride—nearly half a thoustride long, in fact—down the deserted underground tunnel that led from the rear of the Overclan Seating chamber back to the two main office buildings of the complex. Eventually, they reached the end and returned to ground level. Leaving the railcar, Thrr-gilag followed the Elder to an elaborately carved door with large wooden rings in place of the usual doorknobs, and the look and smell of great age. "Enter," the Elder said, gesturing to the door. Taking a deep breath, Thrr-gilag gripped the ancient wooden ring and pulled the door open.

The room turned out to be a small, intimate conversation room, furnished with no tables and only a handful of couches. Three Zhirrzh were waiting for him: Cvv-panav, the Speaker for Dhaa'rr; Hgg-spontib, the Speaker for Kee'rr; and the Overclan Prime himself. None of their expressions were especially encouraging. "Come in, Searcher," the Prime said gravely, gesturing to a row of kavra fruit on a ledge beside the door. "I presume you know the Speakers for Dhaa'rr and Kee'rr."

"Yes, Overclan Prime," Thrr-gilag said, nodding politely to each of them in turn. Picking up one of the kavra fruit, he sliced through it twice with the cutting edges of his tongue and dropped it into the disposal container beneath it. "How may I serve you?" he asked, wiping his hands on the cleaning cloth hanging beneath the ledge.

"The alien prisoners have been brought to the complex," the Prime told him. "They're being prepared for interrogation in the medical center."

"I see," Thrr-gilag said. He'd instructed the healers to let the aliens recover from the stresses of landing before moving them: strictly speaking, he should have been informed of any transfers. Under the circumstances he wasn't really surprised that he hadn't. "How well did they withstand the journey across from the landing field?"

"I'm told they're quite weak, but that their metabolic readings are stable," the Prime said. "I expect to be able to speak with them in a few hunbeats." He eyed Thrr-gilag. "Before we do, though, Speaker Cvv-panav has some questions concerning your testimony of this premidarc."

"More specifically, concerning your glaring breach of security," Cvv-panav bit out. "I want to hear what you know about the Prr't-zevisti incident on Dorcas. And how you learned of it."

"I spoke with my brother, Commander Thrr-mezaz, just before we were evacuated from Base World Twelve," Thrr-gilag said. "He told me that Prr't-zevisti's fsss cutting had been captured and that Prr't-zevisti himself had not been seen since then. That's all I know."

"And did Commander Thrr-mezaz happen to mention that this incident was to be kept a secret?"

Thrr-gilag felt his tail speed up. "No, Speaker, he didn't."

"Do you generally consider discussions with warrior commanders to be the stuff of casual conversation?" Cvv-panav persisted.

"Not at all, Speaker," Thrr-gilag said. "I've always treated such information as private and privileged."

"And yet you simply blurt out this private and privileged information without any thought whatsoever?"

Thrr-gilag looked him straight in the eye. "I would not have thought, Speaker, that testimony before the Overclan Seating would be considered casual conversation."

"I would agree," Speaker Hgg-spontib spoke up from his couch on the Prime's other side. "In fact, I'd venture to say there are many other Speakers wondering why it required a slip of a young searcher's tongue for us to learn of this incident. One might think the Dhaa'rr were attempting to keep vital information to themselves, for their own private purposes."

"The death of a Dhaa'rr Elder is a private matter for the Dhaa'rr clan," Cvv-panav growled back. "Not a gossip item for idle conversation."

Hgg-spontib's midlight pupils visibly contracted. "Are you suggesting that members of the Overclan Seating have nothing better to do than indulge in idle gossip?"

"What the Seating does or does not do hardly matters at this point," Cvv-panav snapped. "There were probably two thousand Elders observing the meeting, not counting those of the Overclan itself. Thanks to this loose-tongued young fool, the news is probably all over the Elder community by now."

"You overstate your case somewhat, Speaker Cvv-panav," the Prime spoke up mildly. "For one thing, you know perfectly well that nothing connected with a war can be considered the exclusive property of a single family or clan. For another, the first leaks most likely occurred four fullarcs ago, when Searcher Thrr-gilag first learned of Prr't-zevisti's disappearance. The pathway for that conversation included an Elder with only marginal warrior security classification."

"Really," Cvv-panav said, throwing a cold look at Thrr-gilag. "About as I would have expected."

"Perhaps," the Prime said. "But before you become too indignant, let me point out that the reason Searcher Thrr-gilag was using a nonsecure pathway was that the Dhaa'rr had not yet provided another properly secure Elder to fill the pathway gap left by Prr't-zevisti's disappearance. Two entire fullarcs after that disappearance, I might add."

It was Cvv-panav's turn to narrow his midlight pupils. "And how would you know that, Overclan Prime?"

The Prime met his glare without flinching. "Because the Overclan has been monitoring all nonwarrior pathways between Zhirrzh outposts and expeditionary forces ever since that first contact with the Human warcraft."

Cvv-panav threw Hgg-spontib a look. "I don't recall the Seating being consulted on this matter, Overclan Prime."

"That's because it wasn't," the Prime said. "I considered it a matter of Zhirrzh security, and therefore acted without consulting the Seating. As was both my right and my duty."

"I'm not sure all the Speakers would accept such an interpretation of the Agreements," Cvv-panav said. "One might think the Overclan was attempting to keep vital information to itself, to paraphrase my colleague Hgg-spontib. For its own private purposes."

"Walk carefully, Speaker," the Prime warned him quietly. "Inflammatory accusations can be as damaging as any security breach."

"So can the appearance of impropriety, Overclan Prime," Cvv-panav countered. He glanced at Thrr-gilag, as if suddenly remembering that there was a low-level witness sitting in on this high-level argument. "But this isn't the time for such discussions," he added. "We should instead be seeing if our prisoners are ready to answer some questions."

"Yes," the Prime said. "Communicator?"

An Elder appeared. "Yes, Overclan Prime?"

"Go speak with the healers in the medical center. See if all is prepared."

"I obey."

Thrr-gilag cleared his throat. "I would remind the Overclan Prime that the prisoners are still very weak," he said. "If pushed too hard, they may die."

"All the more reason to question them while we can," the Prime said. "In any event, that decision is now in the hands of Searcher Nzz-oonaz."

Thrr-gilag felt his tail twirling faster. "May I assume, then, that I've been removed as speaker of the mission?" he asked, just to make it official.

"Be thankful you haven't been removed from the mission entirely," Cvv-panav put in acidly, his tone making it clear that he'd argued for precisely that outcome. "By all rights, the escape of your Human prisoner should have earned you far more than simply a demotion. A public censure at the least; perhaps even criminal charges."

The Elder reappeared. "All is prepared, Overclan Prime," he said. "The healers and alien-specialist group are waiting."

"Very good," the Prime said, rising from his couch. "Speakers, Searcher: come."

The medical center turned out to be a somewhat more compact version of the room on Base World 12 that the technics had hurriedly converted into a prison for Pheylan Cavanagh. In the middle of the room, lying on rolling beds and covered by a portable glass security dome, were the two prisoners. Nearly forty Zhirrzh were present, busy at the various monitoring consoles along the walls or gathered four-deep around the dome gazing at the aliens. Thrr-gilag spotted Svv-selic and Nzz-oonaz standing beside the glass, along with a number of the technics and healers who'd been with them on Base World 12. Only a handful of the observers appeared to be Speakers from the Overclan Seating.

And standing off to one side, Thrr-gilag spotted someone else, someone he hadn't seen for several cyclics. Gll-borgiv, an alien specialist from the Dhaa'rr clan.

"Searcher Nzz-oonaz will perform the interrogation," the Prime said as a technic by the door handed each of the newcomers a translator-link earphone. They crossed to the dome, a respectful path opening up for them through the crowd as they did so. For a few beats the Prime gazed at the aliens, then nodded to Nzz-oonaz. "You may begin."

"I obey, Overclan Prime," Nzz-oonaz said, sounding more than a little nervous. "During their brief conscious period back on Base World Twelve we established that they spoke at least some of the language of our Human prisoner. I'll try that first."

He pressed a little more closely against the dome and cleared his throat self-consciously. "Aliens of the Mrachani," he said in the Human language. "I am Nzz-oonaz; Flii'rr. Can you hear me?"

For a dozen beats nothing happened. Then, slowly, one of the aliens opened his eyes. "I hear," he said, his voice almost too soft to hear. A beat later the words were echoed by the translator-link in Thrr-gilag's ear slits. "I am Uhraus. Ambassador to your people from the Mrachanis."

"Did he say ambassador?" Hgg-spontib muttered from beside Thrr-gilag, pressing his translator-link tighter against the side of his head.

"Yes," Thrr-gilag confirmed, frowning at the aliens. Yet according to the warriors who'd captured it, the alien spacecraft had opened fire on them with the same Elderdeath weapons the Humans had used.

Nzz-oonaz was obviously thinking along the same lines. "Do Mrachani ambassadors usually attack unknown spacecraft on sight?" he demanded.

For another few beats the Mrachani's gaze seemed to drift around the crowd gathered before him. Almost, Thrr-gilag thought oddly, like a dramatist measuring an audience before beginning his performance. "We came to bring warning," the alien sighed at last, closing his eyes tiredly. "And to offer the assistance of the Mrachanis in your struggle against the Mirnacheem-hyeea."

Nzz-oonaz threw Thrr-gilag a questioning look. Thrr-gilag flicked his tongue in a negative: the word didn't mean anything to him. "What is this Mirnacheem-hyeea you speak of?" Nzz-oonaz asked.

"The Mirnacheem-hyeea are those who attempt to dominate all within their reach," the Mrachani said. "In their language the name means Conquerors Without Reason." He opened his eyes, closed them again. "The Humans."

Conquerors Without Reason. Thrr-gilag let the words roll around in his mind, tasting the implications. Ominous implications, indeed.

"We appreciate your warning," Nzz-oonaz said. "What assistance do the Mrachanis offer?"

"The Mrachanis need your help," the alien murmured, his voice fading even further. "We need your—" He took a deep, shuddering breath. "Help."

"What assistance do the Mrachanis offer?" Nzz-oonaz repeated.

There was no answer. "Healer?" Nzz-oonaz asked, looking over his shoulder at one of the consoles.

"He's gone back to sleep," the healer reported. "And their metabolic efficiency appears to be dropping again. Shall I attempt to awaken them?"

Nzz-oonaz looked at the Prime. "Overclan Prime?"

The Prime was gazing at the aliens, his face hard. "How much risk would there be to their lives, Healer?"

"I don't know," the healer admitted. "We still know very little about their biochemistry."

"We won't risk it, then," the Prime said. "Let them sleep, and we'll continue the interrogation later. I want a full watch to be kept, healers and Elders both."

"I obey," the healer said. Gesturing to a technic, he began issuing orders.

Cvv-panav took a step closer to the Prime. "I should like to continue our discussion of last fullarc, Overclan Prime," he said. Quietly, but with a note of insistence in his voice.

"No need," the Prime said, turning to Hgg-spontib. "I'm sure Speaker Hgg-spontib will not argue that this contact has grown far beyond the proprietary rights of the clans who first contacted the Humans." He looked over at the sleeping aliens. "Or perhaps we should call them the Human-Conquerors," he amended grimly. "It appears that would be a more appropriate name. At any rate, I'm assigning Gll-borgiv; Dhaa'rr, to this study group."

"I protest, of course," Hgg-spontib said. "The Dhaa'rr have yet to suffer any damage at the hands of either of these alien species. If any new searchers are added, they should be from the Cakk'rr, who at least have the claim of having captured these Mrachanis for us."

"I've already discussed the matter with the Speaker for Cakk'rr," Cvv-panav put in. "There is no searcher of the Cakk'rr of adequate expertise. She has therefore agreed to defer to the Dhaa'rr in this matter." His tongue twitched. "As the Overclan Prime said earlier, nothing connected with a war can be considered the exclusive property of a single family or clan."

Thrr-gilag pressed the tip of his tongue against the roof of his mouth, keeping his mouth firmly shut. The Zhirrzh alien-specialist community was a reasonably small group, and he could name at least three Cakk'rr experts right off the end of his tongue who would be capable of working with the Mrachanis. Clearly, putting a Dhaa'rr on the group was a political decision, not a scientific one.

"The Kee'rr still protest," Hgg-spontib said in the tone of one who knows a lost battle when he's lost it. "And what of Searcher Thrr-gilag?"

"The Dhaa'rr insist on a full investigation," Cvv-panav put in before the Prime could answer. "The escape of the Human—the Human-Conqueror—must be properly examined."

"Your insistence is premature," the Prime told him. "An inquiry board is examining all the records from Base World Twelve. Until they come to a decision, Searcher Thrr-gilag will be permitted to observe all proceedings involving the Mrachani aliens."

"But not to speak to them," Cvv-panav insisted.

"Proper protocol will of course be followed," the Prime said. "He may offer questions through Searcher Nzz-oonaz." He looked at Thrr-gilag. "Do you accept these limitations?"

As if he had a real choice. "I do," Thrr-gilag said, a flush of shame twitching through his tail. Svv-selic had let Too'rr domination of this mission slip from his grasp by letting the Human prisoner get too close to the Elders' pyramid. Now Thrr-gilag's mistake had similarly lost the speakership for the Kee'rr clan.

How long would it be, he wondered, before Nzz-oonaz made his mistake and Cvv-panav demanded that Gll-borgiv and the Dhaa'rr take charge? He doubted it would be very long.

"You look as if you have something else to say, Searcher," Cvv-panav said, an edge of challenge to his voice.

"No," Thrr-gilag said, resolutely turning away. Arguing any of this would just give them an excuse to throw him off the mission completely. "With the Overclan Prime's permission, I'd like to leave the complex for a time."

"What of the aliens?" the Prime asked. "If they should awaken, you'd be needed."

So at least the Prime still thought of him as a useful part of the group, even if Cvv-panav didn't. That was something, anyway. "If our shipboard experiences are a guide, they should sleep at least four or five tentharcs," Thrr-gilag said.

"Very well," the Prime said. "You may leave, but I don't want you more than a few hunbeats away from this room. And be certain to update your location with the servers at the Overclan shrine."

"I obey," Thrr-gilag said. He turned away, easing through the crowd toward the door—

"One other thing," the Prime's voice said quietly from beside him.

Thrr-gilag looked over, a bit startled. He hadn't realized the Prime had followed him. "Yes, Overclan Prime?"

"There are certain things you and your group are aware of that have not been released to the general Zhirrzh public," the Prime said.

Thrr-gilag winced. Yes; Prr't-zevisti. "I understand fully," he assured the Prime. "I'll be careful not to say anything outside the complex."

"I'm sure you understand the sort of thing I'm talking about," the Prime went on as if he hadn't spoken. "Stories that would spread rumors and fear. Panic, even, particularly among those who are unaware of the full scope of the countermeasures Warrior Command is taking." He gazed hard at Thrr-gilag. "And I don't refer only to those outside the Overclan complex."

Thrr-gilag frowned at him. What in the eighteen worlds was the Prime getting at?

And then, abruptly, he got it. CIRCE. The Humans' ultimate weapon. Long ago disassembled, according to the captured Human recorder, with its components scattered among several planets of their empire for safekeeping. If they were allowed the time to collect those components and reassemble them once more into a functioning weapon...

The Prime was still studying his face. "You understand," he said.

"Yes," Thrr-gilag said, his tongue flicking in a shiver. He understood, all right. If even a hint leaked out at this point that their enemies had a weapon against which there might not be any defense at all...

He looked sharply at the Prime, the other's almost offhanded comment suddenly registering. Not only those outside the Overclan complex... "May I inquire," he asked carefully, "who among the Zhirrzh are aware of this aspect?"

"I am," the Prime said. "So are a handful of the supreme commanders at Warrior Command, the former Overclan Primes, and perhaps thirty other high-security Elders. Plus your alien-study group, of course."

Thrr-gilag pressed his tongue hard against the inside of his mouth. "And the Overclan Seating?"

The Prime didn't flinch. "It would not be advisable for them to know as yet."

"I see," Thrr-gilag murmured. Suddenly it all made sense, this mad rush to throw beachheads and encirclement forces at the Human worlds. Warrior Command wasn't looking for territory to conquer; it was trying desperately to capture or entrap one or more of CIRCE's components before the Humans could gather them together.

And in the meantime the Overclan Prime was trying equally hard to prevent Zhirrzh society from exploding into hysterical terror at the thought of the potential genocide facing them. And if that meant hiding the truth from even the Overclan Seating, then that was what they were going to do.

"You understand the situation," the Prime said. "I could lock you and the others away somewhere, but that would attract unwelcome attention and questions. So for the time being you're free to move about; but be assured that if you tell anyone about this thing, you and your whole family will suffer greatly. Do you understand?"

"I do," Thrr-gilag managed. "And if I may say so, Overclan Prime, there's no need to make threats. I understand as well as you the need to avoid a panic."

"Just so long as we understand each other," the Prime said. "Where exactly will you be going right now?"

"Just to get something to eat," Thrr-gilag said. "There's a place nearby called the Lapper's Paradise I thought I'd try."

"Very well," the Prime said. "But I meant what I said about staying close to the complex. These Mrachani aliens may hold the key to our survival against the Human-Conquerors."

Survival. Previous Overclan Primes throughout history, facing other aggressive alien races, had spoken not of survival but of victory. Or so the histories said.

But then, none of their other alien enemies had ever had a weapon like CIRCE. "I understand," Thrr-gilag said quietly. "I'll be close."

 

3

The Lapper's Paradise, Thrr-gilag had once heard, claimed to be the largest and best patronized full-service tavern in all of the eighteen worlds. He didn't know whether that was literally true, but certainly the establishment had both the floor space and the population base to take a good slash at the title. Located just across the main public thoroughfare that ran past the west side of the Overclan complex, the Paradise drew from the Speakers and aides of the Overclan Seating as well as from the population of Unity City itself, a population made up largely of the Overclan family members who served as the complex's permanent staff. From the way the crowd was packing into the tavern, it looked as if a goodly slice of that population was already there. Drinking, eating, and talking.

And worried sick. Thrr-gilag could hear the fear in the nervous laughter; could see it in the serious faces huddled together across tables; could smell it in the glycerol- and sweat-scented air.

Somewhere out there, in the blackness of space, the Humans were waiting. Powerful, deadly, and ruthless... and gathering for war.

Thrr-gilag sipped at his drink, looking around the tavern and listening to snatches of passing conversations as he marveled once again at the incredible speed of information flow that the Zhirrzh culture was capable of. He'd done his searcher thesis on general information dissemination among the cultures of the four known alien races, and in none of them had he found anything to compare with this vast informal network of Elders—one reason, his thesis had concluded, that the Zhirrzh had always been able to defeat the spacefaring races who attacked them.

But the Human empire was far larger than anything the Zhirrzh had faced before. And if the Humans had an Elder network of their own...

"Thrr-gilag?" a voice called from behind him.

Thrr-gilag turned around. Beckoning him over from a small group seated together around one of the tables was Nzz-oonaz. Picking up his drink, Thrr-gilag slid off his bar couch and went over. "Thought that was you," Nzz-oonaz said, indicating an empty couch across the table from him. "Join us?"

"Sure," Thrr-gilag said, easing past the other Zhirrzh and seating himself. "I'm surprised to find you here—I'd have thought you'd be standing over our prisoners."

"They're sleeping quite soundly," Nzz-oonaz said. "I decided I could risk leaving for a while." His tongue flicked sourly. "Besides, Gll-borgiv seems to have things well under control."

"Taking over, is he?"

"He's trying," Nzz-oonaz said. "Him and the whole Dhaa'rr clan, from Speaker Cvv-panav on down. Actually, I'm half-inclined to let them have the mess. See how far they can get with it."

Thrr-gilag looked around the group. All of them were young members of the Overclan staff, he saw now, wearing the jumpsuits and insignia threads of assorted service positions within the complex. An admiring entourage of overawed youngsters? Or were they a quiet protector escort, here to make sure no one mentioned the name CIRCE? "From what I've heard of Speaker Cvv-panav, he'd probably enjoy the challenge," he commented.

"I'm sure he would," Nzz-oonaz said with a grimace. "Right up to the point where it rose up and strangled him." He took a sip from his cup. "I don't like this, Thrr-gilag. None of it. Especially this whole Mrachani business."

"Anything specific?"

"The whole thing strikes me as just a little too simplistic," Nzz-oonaz said. "They fire on the Cakk'rr ship with Elderdeath weapons but completely ignore my question as to why. They sleep practically the whole way back from Base World Twelve—which conveniently keeps them from having to answer any questions, you'll note—coming out of it just long enough to let us know they speak the Human language. We get here, and again they come up just long enough to deliver a plea for help before dropping back down again. You'd think that after four fullarcs they'd be healing and getting stronger, but you wouldn't know it from their behavior or metabolic readings."

Thrr-gilag thought about that. The complete lack of communication with the Mrachanis during the trip here had bothered him, too. "Still, it's not completely unreasonable," he said. "Without a biochemical/metabolic baseline, there's really no way to know how bad their injuries are."

Nzz-oonaz grunted. "Yes. Again, how convenient for them."

"You think they're spies for the Human-Conquerors, Searcher?" one of the Overclan youths asked.

"That's one possibility," Nzz-oonaz said. "Another is that they're fish lures, sent here to spin us this tale of a subjugated people eager to recruit allies. We go to their aid, and they promptly turn around and slice us in the neck. We've certainly done that sort of thing often enough to each other."

For a few hunbeats no one spoke. Thrr-gilag sipped at his drink, listening to the swirl of other conversations as he looked around the tavern. It was a mixed lot there this postmidarc, with little if any attention being paid to the old traditional standards of social and clan stratification that used to be the norm of Zhirrzh society. Construction and maintenance workers, professional people like searchers and advocates, even a scattering of warriors from the Unity City bases—all sitting or standing and drinking together. Over and through it all floated a mobile cloud of Elders, listening or joining in the conversations or just watching. Some scrutinized the unseemly mixing of social strata with undisguised disapproval; others watched the eating and drinking with wistfulness or equally undisguised envy.

Mostly, though, their expressions seemed to match those of the physicals around them. Like everyone else, the Elder community was worried.

"Perhaps we're being too cynical," another of the Overclan youths at the table said. "Perhaps the Mrachanis are being completely sincere. I can see where these Human-Conquerors would be pretty terrifying to everyone."

Thrr-gilag looked at the grim expression on Nzz-oonaz's face. If you only knew the half of it, he thought silently at the youth. "I'm sure we'll find out firsthand about that soon enough," he said aloud. "Speaking of Human attacks, Nzz-oonaz, has anyone been able to confirm yet whether the warcraft that hit the pyramid on Study World Eighteen were the same ones that hit us five tentharcs later?"

"I doubt it," Nzz-oonaz said. "From what I've heard, the pyramid on Study World Eighteen had mostly construction and structural engineer types aboard, there to study the ruins of that city. They didn't have any actual alien specialists along."

Thrr-gilag nodded heavily. Which meant there'd been no one there with the training to sort out the fine details of a specific alien's face or body type or stance, or who could memorize the unintelligible wing markings on an alien warcraft. "Typical," he said to Nzz-oonaz.

"You got that right," Nzz-oonaz grunted. "Bored Elders falling all over each other looking for something to do, but no one thought about putting an alien specialist's fsss cutting out there."

Thrr-gilag flicked his tongue. "Backsight is always so much clearer," he reminded the other. "Any idea which clan was running that pyramid?"

"No idea," Thrr-gilag said. "Probably one of the ones who think alien studies are beneath the dignity of a proper Zhirrzh. You know: 'The proper study of Zhirrzh is Zhirrzh,' and all that."

Abruptly, an Elder appeared, his torso coming partway through the tabletop. "Searchers Nzz-oonaz and Thrr-gilag," he said, his faint voice barely audible over the background noise. "Urgent message: you're both needed at the medical center."

"The Mrachanis?" Nzz-oonaz asked as he and Thrr-gilag scrambled to their feet.

"Yes," the Elder said. "Their metabolic readings have suddenly dropped. Searchers Gll-borgiv and Svv-selic think they may be dying."

"Get me some readings," Nzz-oonaz ordered, starting across the crowded tavern. "And tell Svv-selic to rig life-support gear."

"I obey," the Elder said, and vanished.

They headed for the door, the Overclan youths who'd been at their table forming a traveling wedge that cleared the way in front of them. They were just passing the end of the bar when the Elder returned. "Blood absorption readings on both aliens have dropped fifteen percent from their sleep levels," he reported. "Respiration has slowed and become erratic; galvanic response and brain-function activity are down twelve percent; cellular metabolic readings have dropped eight percent. Life-support equipment is in place and is being connected. Searcher Svv-selic has ordered four units of premarin colatyin for both aliens."

"Warn him to be careful," Nzz-oonaz said. "Overloading alien systems with untested drugs could kill them right here and now."

"I obey," the Elder said, and vanished.

They'd made it to the tavern's outer door by the time he returned. "There's been no response to the premarin," he said. "Six units of propodine miantoris are now being prepared for injection. Searcher Svv-selic says there's no choice now but to risk using these drugs."

Nzz-oonaz swore grimly under his breath. "Tell him we're on our way," he said as the group hurried out beneath the dark postmidarc clouds. "Let me know immediately if there are any signs of allergic reactions."

"I obey."

He disappeared. "Come on," Nzz-oonaz said, pointing Thrr-gilag to the left. "I've got a priority vehicle over here, a fast one. We can be there in three hunbeats." Thrr-gilag nodded. "Let's hope it's enough." It wasn't. They were across the public thoroughfare and speeding down the access tunnel toward the Overclan complex when the Elder brought the news that both aliens were dead.

 

They spent nearly a tentharc debriefing the technics who'd been on duty and analyzing every nuance of the events that had led up to the Mrachanis' deaths. Afterward came the autopsies—four more painstaking tentharcs' worth—which all four searchers sat in on. After that came more discussions, more analysis, and more study, stretching through the latearc.

By the time they were summoned to the Overclan Prime's private conference room, a tentharc after a gloomy sunrise, Thrr-gilag was as exhausted as he'd ever been in his life. And as discouraged.

"The summation line is that we simply don't know why they died," Nzz-oonaz said as he concluded their all-too-brief report. "It could have been a result of their injuries, the sudden upsurge of a disease organism they picked up during their short time on Base World Twelve, or some preexisting condition. Or something else entirely."

"Let me understand," the Prime said, his voice dark. "Our single most promising source of information about the Human-Conquerors, as well as a possible key to gaining some allies in this war. And you can't even tell me how they died."

"I'm sorry," Nzz-oonaz said, his voice quavering slightly beneath the combined glare of the Prime and the four speakers facing them. "We'll continue our studies, of course. But without a baseline for the species, it's unlikely we'll learn much more than we have already."

"I see," the Prime said. For a few beats his gaze swept the four searchers arrayed before him, visually castigating all of them with equal severity. "Let's hear your recommendations. Yes, Searcher Svv-selic?"

"We know where the Mrachani homeworld is," Svv-selic said. "I suggest we send a delegation there to return the bodies of their envoys, and to open direct communication with them."

"Communication with a race who fired on the Cakk'rr with Elderdeath weapons?" Hgg-spontib scoffed.

"The Speaker for Kee'rr has a valid question," the Prime said. "Have you an answer, Searcher?"

"Of course I'm not suggesting we send an unarmed envoy," Svv-selic said. "But I would remind the Overclan Prime that the Mrachanis are a subjugated race. Presumably everything they know about us would have come filtered by the Human-Conquerors' own biases. Their attack on the Cakk'rr ship might in that case have been nothing more hostile than a simple panic response."

Thrr-gilag glanced at Nzz-oonaz, their conversation at the Lapper's Paradise running through his mind. "I didn't think trained diplomats were supposed to panic," he murmured.

He thought he'd spoken quietly enough for only Nzz-oonaz to hear. He was wrong. "You have a comment, Searcher Thrr-gilag?" Cvv-panav spoke up.

Thrr-gilag grimaced. But it was too late to back out now. "I was wondering, Speaker, if perhaps this whole Mrachani contact might have been a very carefully staged deception."

"Staged by whom? The Human-Conquerors?"

"Or by the Mrachanis themselves," Thrr-gilag said. "I ask the Overclan Prime and the Speakers to remember that we know virtually nothing about this race."

"I disagree," Svv-selic said. "There were several references to the Mrachanis in the Human-Conqueror recorder that the Too'rr survey ship salvaged from the space battle. It was clear from those references that they were subservient to the Human-Conquerors."

"With all due respect to Searcher Svv-selic, I would challenge any assertion that the references in the recorder could be considered clear," Thrr-gilag said. "Particularly unclear, to my mind, is the relationship of the Humans to other races within their sphere of influence."

"With a title of 'Conquerors Without Reason'?" Svv-selic countered. "Come on, Thrr-gilag. The name says it all."

"A name that was given them by the Mrachanis," Thrr-gilag reminded him. "All that does is turn the argument back into a circle."

"Do I understand you correctly, Searcher Thrr-gilag?" Cvv-panav demanded. "Are you actually defending the Human-Conquerors?"

Thrr-gilag forced himself to meet the Speaker's glare. "I defend the principle that conclusion should follow only from factual information, Speaker for Dhaa'rr," he said. "The Humans—"

"The Human-Conquerors attacked a group of four survey ships, Searcher," Cvv-panav bit out. "Need I remind you that they also attacked your group on Base World Twelve? What more in the way of factual information are you looking for?"

"They were rescuing one of their own on Base World Twelve," Thrr-gilag insisted doggedly. "Would the Zhirrzh have done less under similar circumstances?"

"And what of the Elderdeath weapons used on Study World Eighteen?" Hgg-spontib put in. "Or the killing of Prr't-zevisti on the Human-Conqueror world Dorcas?"

"Well, Searcher?" the Prime prompted.

Thrr-gilag swallowed. "I agree, Overclan Prime, that these are strong indications of Human barbarism. But my personal experience with the Human prisoner Pheylan Cavanagh doesn't appear to fit the pattern. His escape attempt, for example. Once aboard the Mrachani spacecraft, he no longer needed either the technic or me for protection against the warriors outside. Yet he raised neither of us to Eldership, though with his superior musculature he could have easily done so."

"Perhaps he didn't feel he could afford to take the time," the Prime suggested.

Thrr-gilag flicked his tongue in a negative. "No. You've seen the records—those hands and arms could break a Zhirrzh neck with a single twist."

"Then he thought he'd have further need of you," Cvv-panav said impatiently. "I submit, Overclan Prime, that this discussion is a waste of time. Whatever the minor specifics of the Human-Conqueror ethos, it's abundantly clear they're a highly dangerous threat to the Zhirrzh people. We must seize all opportunities that present themselves, with speed and determination."

For a handful of beats the room was silent. Then, almost reluctantly, the Prime nodded. "I'll instruct Warrior Command to prepare a small group of ships for an expedition to the Mrachani homeworld," he said. "Searcher Nzz-oonaz, you are hereby appointed as speaker of the mission."

Cvv-panav shifted on his couch. "With all due respect, Overclan Prime—"

"I presume," the Prime continued, ignoring the other, "that you'll wish Searchers Svv-selic and Thrr-gilag to accompany you"—he paused, just long enough to make the point—"and Searcher Gll-borgiv, as well."

Nzz-oonaz glanced at Thrr-gilag, a guardedly sour expression on his face. Thrr-gilag returned the look, careful not to say anything this time that the Speaker for Dhaa'rr could pounce on. Gll-borgiv was competent enough, he supposed, but he'd hardly have put the other's name on top for a job of such critical importance as this. Even with Cvv-panav determined to keep this in the Dhaa'rr clan, there were far better choices he could have made. Klnn-dawan-a, for obvious example—

Thrr-gilag pressed his tongue hard against the top of his mouth. No, of course the Speaker wouldn't have chosen Klnn-dawan-a. Not if she'd been the best alien specialist in all eighteen worlds. Not after the mess Thrr-gilag had made of things on Base World 12.

"With the approval of the Speakers?" the Prime said, glancing around the room. "Very well, then. How long will you need to prepare, Searcher Nzz-oonaz?"

"That depends partly on what peripheral equipment and personnel Warrior Command and the Overclan Prime decide to send along," Nzz-oonaz said. "Probably six to eight fullarcs."

"Very well," the Prime said. "The mission will leave from the warrior landing field outside Unity City in eight fullarcs. Between now and then a small group of diplomats and warriors will be chosen who will accompany you."

"Chosen with the assistance of the Overclan Seating, I presume?" Cvv-panav put in. "And with its approval?"

An odd sort of expression passed across the Prime's face. "Of course, Speaker," he said softly. "Of course."