The door to the metal room swung open, the muffled clang bringing Prr't-zevisti out of one of the dreamy mental wanderings that seemed to pass for sleep among Elders. He eased to the edge of the lightworld as a single Human came into the room and flicked on the light.
Good luck was with him: it was the Human called Doctor-Cavan-a. A Human who, bearing a Zhirrzh female-style name, ironically enough did indeed seem to be a female. The Humans had been doing a lot of rearranging in this room lately, moving the shelves around and changing what was being stored on them, and as a result Doctor-Cavan-a hadn't been around much. To Prr't-zevisti's annoyance, too—his inspections of the Humans who came in here were necessarily slow and stealthy, and there were still a number of areas of Human anatomy that he hadn't yet been able to get to. Most notably that organ in the lower abdomen that some young searcher on Base World 12 had speculated might be a Human equivalent of the Zhirrzh fsss organ. Not that anyone seriously believed it was.
But at any rate, she was back. Now, with a little more good luck, maybe she'd stay put for a while.
Doctor-Cavan-a went to one side of the room and pushed a small box a half stride farther into a corner, then turned and gestured a hand toward the door. "All right," she said. "Bring it in."
There was a grunted response, a clink of metal on metal, and the front end of a large tablelike slab with thick side supports appeared in the doorway. A very different sort of table from the ones the two Zhirrzh bodies had been dissected on, Prr't-zevisti noted. This one had several indentations and clamps scattered around its upper surface, apparently deliberately positioned. The rear edge flowed up into a ridge with small apertures and various controllike devices set into it. Not an autopsy examination stand, this, but more like some alien version of a searcher's laboratory table.
Abruptly, a twinge of low-level pain lanced through him. Prr't-zevisti tensed, forcing himself to keep quiet. An Elderdeath weapon again, its beam impinging on his fsss cutting sitting there in its box on one of the shelves. It had been happening more and more frequently lately, and Prr't-zevisti still hadn't decided whether it was a deliberate attack against him or merely a side effect of some general weapons testing.
One thing was certain, though. Despite Supreme Ship Commander Dkll-kumvit's efforts at the beginning of this invasion, the Humans clearly still had access to Elderdeath weapons. Maybe not as powerful or long-range as the two the heavy air-assault craft had knocked out, but undoubtedly just as dangerous at close range. A potentially vital discovery, and he could only hope he would be able to find a way out of here with it before Commander Thrr-mezaz's warriors launched their attack on the place.
Assuming, of course, the attack ever came. Prr't-zevisti had heard disturbing rumors before his capture that Warrior Command was preparing expeditionary forces against more of the Human worlds, forces that were supposedly going to be launched before the current beachheads were anything but minimally secured.
It was a strategy that made no sense at all to Prr't-zevisti, even given how admittedly out-of-date his own warrior training and experience were. But if true, it might explain why Thrr-mezaz hadn't yet moved against the Humans' stronghold. The warriors had lost both of their heavy air-assault craft and several of their Stingbirds in the initial invasion, and without adequate reinforcements an attack would be nothing less than lunacy cubed.
The two other Humans finished rolling the table into the room and left, leaving the female Human alone inside. The door swung shut behind them, and as it did so, the nearby Elderdeath weapon stopped.
Doctor-Cavan-a opened a drawer in one of the table's thick side supports and withdrew two unfamiliar pieces of equipment, setting them side by side on the table. One had a thin cable attached; taking the end of the cable, she inserted it into one of the apertures in the raised edge and flicked a switch. There was a soft hum; and with it came a new low-intensity flicker of Elderdeath sensation.
Prr't-zevisti tensed, expecting the worst. But the level stayed where it was, a sort of mental humming well below any sort of pain threshold. More like the sun-sense he remembered from childhood, now that he thought about it: the ability to locate the sun even through heavy clouds.
A sense that, like all Zhirrzh children, he'd lost the fullarc after his tenth birth anniversary. For him that had been the most traumatic part of the whole fsss-removal operation, more upsetting than the anesthetic or the wooziness or even the ten fullarcs of bandaged ache at the back of his head. It had been like going a little blind, and not even his parents' assurances that it would be ultimately worthwhile had been any real consolation.
Impatiently, he sliced away the thought. He was there to study the Humans, not to sit around endlessly reminiscing like some old Elder with nothing better to do. The Human female was making some adjustments to the device, but though the sun-sense altered subtly, it never approached anything remotely painful. Perhaps the Humans had miscalculated the threshold of Elderdeath pain. Or perhaps they thought they could annoy him into submission.
The Human female touched the small black box, at its customary place on one corner of the table. "Doctor-Cavan-a," she said. "(Something) eighteenth, twenty-three-oh-three."
Prr't-zevisti eased as close to the lightworld as he dared, straining to understand. The Human-language briefing he'd been given before coming to Dorcas had turned out to be more complete than he'd first realized, and he'd picked up a surprising number of new words in the past three fullarcs just by watching and listening. But it took concentration, and even so there were any number of words that still eluded him.
"Begin (something) secondary (something) work on the Zhirrzh (something) sample," the Human female continued. "I'll start with a first (something) (something) analysis." She stepped away from the desk—
And to Prr't-zevisti's sudden horror reached toward the shelf and picked up the box containing his fsss cutting. Carrying it back to the table, she opened it.
He was back in the grayworld in an instant, dropping deep into the darkness. Running the only way he could, knowing full well the whole time how utterly useless and childish it was. As long as he was anchored here, whatever pain Doctor-Cavan-a chose to apply to his cutting would instantly be transmitted to him. "I'm take (something) a three (something) sample," he heard Doctor-Cavan-a say. There was a twinge, an almost-felt stab of almost pain—
And then, nothing. Only the background sun-sense.
"Sample take (something)," Doctor-Cavan-a continued. "Looks good. I'm put (something) it into the (something)."
Cautiously, suspiciously, Prr't-zevisti eased back to the edge of the lightworld. Doctor-Cavan-a was bent over one of the instruments, peering into a rectangular tube. His fsss cutting was back in its box beside the instrument, apparently untouched.
He frowned, moving over for a closer look. No; he was wrong. The once-smooth circular edge of the cutting now showed a tiny gap. The sample, apparently, that Doctor-Cavan-a had mentioned.
He looked back at her. She was still peering into the tube, but from his new vantage point he could now see glimmerings of light from inside it. A hooded display, he decided, and moved beside her for a look.
It was all he could do to stifle a gasp of amazement. He'd seen Zhirrzh cellular structure through microscopes before, certainly—there'd been whole classes devoted to such things back when he was in school. And certainly there'd been tremendous advances since then; as recently as a cyclic ago he'd seen a demonstration of an awesome new microscope that Warrior Command had commissioned from a group of searchers and technics. They'd hailed it at the time as a triumph of Zhirrzh ingenuity and expertise.
This one left it in the dust.
It was nothing short of astonishing. In the center of the display were a group of fsss cells, sharper and clearer than he'd ever seen them. Superimposed on them were multicolored rings and curves and lines, with other multicolored symbols scattered around the edges. Some of the symbols had lines linking them to various parts of the cell, while others scrolled like words on a reader display. Even as he watched, one of the lines created a small square at its tip, the image inside the square magnifying to fill the display. One of the secondary nuclei, Prr't-zevisti tentatively identified it. More symbols, rings, and lines appeared. A hunbeat later another of the small squares formed, and the microscope zoomed in on a portion of the secondary nucleus's edge.
A microscope and analysis machine both. Half the size of the best the Zhirrzh could come up with for a microscope alone.
Slowly, Prr't-zevisti moved back from the Human female, a sense of stunned dread replacing his earlier astonishment. He'd heard the reports from the Far Searcher, had seen firsthand some of the bits and pieces of technology that had been scavenged from the wrecks of those Human warcraft. But aside from the recorder and a few parts of the Human prisoner's private spacecraft, it had all been damaged and nonworking. Odd arrangements of metal and unknown materials, more curiosities than anything else.
They'd seen the results of Human technology. Now Prr't-zevisti was getting a look at the technology itself.
He'd suspected the Zhirrzh were in trouble. He hadn't realized until now just how much trouble they were in.
"Interest (something)," the Human female said. "A surprise (something) amount of (something) and (something) activity in the (something) cells. Far too much for something that's supposed (something) to be dead. I'm start (something) with the (something)."
With an effort Prr't-zevisti pulled his thoughts away from the growing darkness of his fears. All right; so the Humans were formidable opponents. But, then, so were the Zhirrzh. Other alien races had tried throughout history to conquer or destroy them, and all had failed. The Humans would fail too.
And everything he learned here would help toward that ultimate victory. Easing his face through the outer skin of Doctor-Cavan-a's back, ready to drop into the grayworld if she turned around, he continued his study of her alien body.
"There it is," the transport pilot said, gesturing ahead and to the right. "In that hollow, up against that big rock face. See it?"
"Yes," Thrr-gilag said, peering down at the motley assortment of field shelters with a mixture of nostalgia and embarrassment. Nostalgia, because it looked just like the training expeditions they'd all gone on back when they'd been students. Embarrassment, because he hadn't realized until that beat just how much better than this he'd been faring lately. His Human-prisoner study group on Base World 12 had had top-mark laboratory and living facilities; even the archaeological expedition he'd been with on Study World 15 had had warrior-style perm buildings for their encampment. Clearly, funds for studying the Chig were distributed with a somewhat less lavish hand.
"We're only going to be here about a tentharc," the pilot said as he circled around toward the more or less flat stretch of ground that seemed to serve as the expedition's landing field. "We weren't actually scheduled to make this supply run for another few fullarcs. You're welcome to fly back up to the encirclement warships with us when we leave."
"I appreciate the offer," Thrr-gilag told him. He had no idea how he could possibly get through everything he wanted to discuss with Klnn-dawan-a in a single tentharc. But the pilot was right: it was indeed a long way back up to the encirclement warships orbiting overhead. "Let's see how things go, all right?"
"Fine by me," the pilot shrugged. "Hang on—this can get a little bumpy."
Bumpy was hardly the word for it; but they made it without injuries and with no direct evidence of structural damage to the transport. Unstrapping stiffly, thankful that the study group's director had had the sense not to set up on the absolute top of the mountain, at least, Thrr-gilag made his way back to the doorway and opened it.
Three young Zhirrzh were waiting a short ways past the end of the landing ramp: typical eager-eyed student-searcher-assistant types, probably there to help the transport's crew unload the supplies. Thrr-gilag hardly noticed them. He certainly didn't give them any thought.
Standing in front of them, at the foot of the ramp, was Klnn-dawan-a.
"Hi," she breathed, favoring Thrr-gilag with one of those special smiles of hers as he walked down the ramp. "The Elders told me you were coming. I'm glad you're here."
"So am I," Thrr-gilag said, hearing a sudden slight trembling in his voice. With all that had happened lately, he'd almost forgotten how much he'd missed her. "I'm afraid I can't stay very long, though," he added as he reached her.
"I didn't expect you'd be able to," Klnn-dawan-a said regretfully as she looked up at him. "Still, even a little time is better than nothing."
"Yes," Thrr-gilag said, his hands trembling a little as he took her hands and squeezed them tightly. The strictures of propriety, not to mention the presence of the student assistants standing there three strides away, forbade the kind of greeting he really wanted to give her. He hoped they'd be able to find some time alone before he left.
Klnn-dawan-a, he could tell, was thinking along the same lines. "I was rather surprised to hear from the Elders that you were on your way down," she commented, taking his arm and turning them toward the encampment. "I'd assumed your work with the Overclan Seating would be taking all your time." She lowered her voice. "Especially with your group about to head out on a new expedition."
Thrr-gilag frowned at her. He'd been under the distinct impression that the Mrachani mission was going to be kept a fairly close secret. "How in the eighteen worlds did you hear about that?"
"Never underestimate the ingenuity of a trained searcher," Klnn-dawan-a said dryly. "As it happens, Director Prr-eddsi has had several long conversations back to Oaccanv in the past couple of fullarcs. Very serious, very secret—secure Warrior Command pathways and all that."
"And you just happened to be sort of leaning up against the shelter wall at the time?"
"Me?" Klnn-dawan-a asked with a good imitation of hurt pride. "I recoil at the very thought. No, Prr-eddsi brought me into the discussion at one point, and the word Mrachani came up. Then someone mentioned Nzz-oonaz's name, and the rest fell into place pretty quickly. Obvious, really—your people are certainly the current experts on everything regarding the Human-Conquerors and their territory."
Thrr-gilag grimaced. Human-Conqueror. The term had even made it out here. "They're hardly my people anymore," he told Klnn-dawan-a. "I've been demoted."
"I gathered as much," Klnn-dawan-a said quietly. "I'm sorry."
"My own fault," Thrr-gilag told her. "Apparently, the rule is you kill prisoners rather than let them escape."
She eyed him. "Do I detect a trace of bitterness?"
"More strong indignation than bitterness," Thrr-gilag told her. "And mostly on your behalf, actually. Speaker Cvv-panav pressured the Overclan Prime into putting a Dhaa'rr in the group; and because he was mad at me, he picked Gll-borgiv instead of you."
Klnn-dawan-a shrugged. "Gll-borgiv's not all that bad."
"He's still nowhere near as good as you."
"I appreciate the vote of confidence," she said. "Still, I don't really think you should take the blame for my missed chance at glory."
Thrr-gilag looked at the encampment ahead. At the predator fence, the shelters... and the white tip of the pyramid sticking up over them. That was something else they hadn't had on those training expeditions ten cyclics ago. No fsss cuttings with anchored Elders there to act as communicators.
Or to listen over your shoulder, whether you wanted them there or not. "Is there someplace where we can talk privately?" he asked Klnn-dawan-a.
"I'm sure we can find one," she said, her tone faintly amused. "I thought you didn't have much time."
"I'm not talking about that," Thrr-gilag said, feeling his tail speed up with both anticipation and a faint embarrassment. "I mean, not that I don't want to be close—but that's not what I meant. I meant talk. Really talk."
"Oh," she said, frowning up at him. She followed his line of sight to the pyramid. "Well... sure. I've been wanting to check out some of the farms around the other side of the ridge, anyway. And that would give me a chance to show you what we're doing here. Let's go see if Prr-eddsi will let me take out one of the floaters."
Ten hunbeats later they were in a floater, heading out from the encampment. Thrr-gilag waited until they were well outside the Elders' five-thoustride anchorline limit, and then told Klnn-dawan-a the bad news.
She listened in silence. "You're sure about this?" she asked when he'd finished.
"I don't know if you can ever be sure about Elder rumors," Thrr-gilag said, gazing out at the rocky Gree landscape flowing by beneath them. "All I know is that my father thought it was solid enough to warn me."
"Yes," Klnn-dawan-a said, her face set in hard lines as she stared out through the windscreen. "I notice that no one bothered to tell me about any of this."
"Maybe none of your Elders here have heard the rumors," Thrr-gilag suggested diplomatically.
She threw him a scornful look. "Oh, come on, Thrr-gilag. You get a rumor started anywhere in the eighteen worlds, and every Elder's going to hear about it. You know that better than I do—you wrote your searcher thesis on it. Our Elders here know, all right. They've just decided not to tell me about it."
Thrr-gilag shrugged uncomfortably. "I suppose you can hardly blame them. All your Elders here are Dhaa'rr, after all. They're probably less thrilled than even your leaders about having me in the clan."
"Well, that's just plain stupid," Klnn-dawan-a said angrily. "Stupid and unfair. No one can possibly blame you for the Human-Conqueror attack on your base—everyone agrees they were out looking for your prisoner. And as for your brother, so he's using his communicators as sentries. So what? We use our Elders here for that sort of thing all the time."
"Except that your pyramid's safely inside a predator fence," Thrr-gilag pointed out. "His aren't. Anyway, that's not really what they're mad at him about."
"They can't blame him for Prr't-zevisti, either," she said firmly. "I know he was my clan and I should be sorry he's dead; but what happened to him was at least as much his own fault as it was Thrr-mezaz's. No one ordered him to stay with his cutting—he could have gone straight to his family shrine and stayed there."
"Unless there's a link between the cutting and the main fsss organ we don't know about," Thrr-gilag said doubtfully. "Maybe if you destroy a fsss cutting, the Elder dies whether he's anchored there at the time or not."
"No," Klnn-dawan-a said. "Don't forget, it took them at least thirty cyclics of trying before they figured out how to take successful fsss cuttings. If the destruction of a cutting section killed the Elder outright, then every Elder whose fsss was experimented on back then would have died. They didn't."
"You're right," Thrr-gilag said, a small fraction of the weight lifting from his shoulders. "I hadn't thought about that. Still, I doubt it's going to make much difference to the Dhaa'rr Elders."
"No, of course not," Klnn-dawan-a bit out. "Prr't-zevisti's death is a convenient excuse for the clan leaders to back out of something they didn't want to allow in the first place." She sighed, some of the anger and toughness seeming to drain out of her. "Oh, Thrr-gilag. What are we going to do?"
"We're not going to give up," Thrr-gilag told her. "That much is for sure. The only question is how to fight back."
"Yes," Klnn-dawan-a murmured, her pupils narrowed with thought. Thrr-gilag gazed sideways at her, smiling despite the seriousness of the whole situation. A beat ago her anger and indignation had dissolved almost instantly into depression and the hint of defeat; and now that too had promptly changed again to determination. Many of her friends and colleagues, he knew, found this rapid mood processing of hers to be intimidating. Personally, he found it rather endearing. "All right," she said. "What have we got? The clan leaders have already given permission for our bonding, so to renege now is to break their word. That makes them look bad unless they can show really good reasons. So what we have to do is show that their reasons are totally inadequate."
"We can point out how antiquated these prejudices are, too," Thrr-gilag suggested. "We've had open territorial borders for a hundred cyclics now—strictures on interclan bonding ought to be obsolete, too."
"Right—let's toss in a little shame and embarrassment," Klnn-dawan-a agreed. "I just wish one of our families had more political leverage. We'd stand a better chance if we could get some of the other clans interested in this, even just as observers."
"Yes," Thrr-gilag said, feeling a little shame of his own. He'd had that leverage once, after Svv-selic was demoted and he'd been made speaker of the Base World 12 group. And had proceeded to lose all of it. "You know, it occurs to me that there were a couple of times when the Overclan Prime seemed to be on my side. Making minor decisions in my favor against Speaker Cvv-panav. But I don't suppose that really counts for anything."
"I doubt it," Klnn-dawan-a said. "The Overclan Prime doesn't like the Dhaa'rr much—he'd rule against Speaker Cvv-panav just to keep in practice. Besides, this is too much an internal clan matter for him to stick the Overclan's tongue into it."
For a few hunbeats neither of them spoke. The floater glided smoothly over the rocks and ridges, its air cushion dampening out the smaller bumps and turning larger ones into gentle parabolic arcs. Ahead, the ground sloped toward a creek in the distance; beyond the creek the terrain turned sharply upward again, culminating in more of the towering, white-capped mountains.
"Uh-oh," Klnn-dawan-a muttered.
"What is it?" Thrr-gilag asked as the floater abruptly turned to the right.
"A Chigin whelp," Klnn-dawan-a said, pointing ahead toward the creek. "Over there."
"I see it," Thrr-gilag nodded. The whelp was standing stock-still beside a pile of boulders this side of the creek, its ears standing stiffly up, its full attention on the approaching floater. "You think it's lost?"
"Well, it certainly shouldn't be out here all by itself," Klnn-dawan-a said. "It could be the lead or tail of a grazing party, though. Let's take a closer look, see what family it belongs to."
"How do you tell them apart?" Thrr-gilag asked.
"Mountain families glitter-tag their whelps," Klnn-dawan-a explained. "Those little flashes of light at the edges of their ears—there; see it."
"Yes," Thrr-gilag nodded. "Do you know all the patterns?"
"Most of them," Klnn-dawan-a said. "We're going to have to get pretty close, though. You game?"
"I don't know," Thrr-gilag said dubiously. "I was under the impression that solitary Chig whelps weren't all that safe to approach."
"So the book says," Klnn-dawan-a agreed. "Our own studies indicate that that applies mainly to solitary whelps on their own family's territory. Solitary whelps on neutral territory seem to be actually less unpredictable than larger groups."
"The exact opposite, in other words, of how the book says they're supposed to behave."
"On home territory, anyway. You got it."
"Great," Thrr-gilag said. "Just how good are these studies of yours?"
"Oh, the studies are all wonderful, of course," Klnn-dawan-a said, slowing the floater down to a drifting crawl. The whelp was still standing there, still staring at them. "It's only the conclusions you ever have to worry about. No, seriously, I'm sure we'll be okay. Still, you'd better get the stinger out of the survival pack under the seat. Set on low, please; we don't want to really hurt it."
"If you say so," Thrr-gilag said, pulling the pack out and digging the stinger out of its pouch. He turned it on, grimacing at the vibration of filling energy capacitors. He'd never liked these things, not since his first time on the target range with one. They were awkward to hold, impossible to aim, and utterly absurd looking for something that was supposed to be a weapon. Thrr-mezaz, who dealt with real warrior laser weapons all the time, had laughed himself silly the first time he'd seen one. "So what's the plan?"
"I'll bring us as close to the whelp as I can without spooking it," Klnn-dawan-a said. "Then I'll go the rest of the way on foot, and you can cover me while I try to get a look at the glitter tag. Sound good?"
"Sounds terrible," Thrr-gilag retorted. "What if you're wrong about the whelp being dangerous?"
"Well, one of us has to get close," Klnn-dawan-a pointed out reasonably. "And you don't know the first thing about Chigin glitter-tag patterns."
"I could describe it to you."
"Now you're being silly, dear," Klnn-dawan-a chided. "All right, I think this is about as close as we can get. Everybody out."
The floater settled to the ground and the two of them got out. Stinger in hand, Klnn-dawan-a started slowly toward the whelp, talking soothingly to it as she walked. Thrr-gilag crouched down beside the floater, resting his arm on the curved beak plate, keeping his own stinger trained on the whelp. A motion off to the left caught the edge of his eye, and he flicked a glance that direction—
And froze. "Klnn-dawan-a?" he called quietly. "I think you'd better stop. Take a look to your left."
She paused and turned her head. Thrr-gilag couldn't see her face, but the sudden increase in her tail motion told him all he needed to know.
There were eight of them standing there: eight Chig, all in the unmistakable mottled dark-green metal semiarmor of hunter-warriors. Grouped around them on both sides were perhaps twenty whelps. The whole crowd was gazing unblinkingly at the two Zhirrzh... and they did not look friendly.
"Just take it easy," Klnn-dawan-a said softly to Thrr-gilag. "No fast movements. Those aren't toys they're holding."
Thrr-gilag nodded, feeling his own tail speed up. He hadn't even noticed the repeating crossbows until that beat, their shapes blending into the blotchy coloration of the semiarmor behind them. Forbidden by the Zhirrzh to possess high-technology weapons, the Chig had come up with these little gems instead. And they were most emphatically not toys. "What do you want me to do?" he murmured. "Should I try to take them out?"
"Not unless you want your bonding to be with an Elder," Klnn-dawan-a said tartly. "Just stay put and let's see what they want. And whatever you do, don't point your stinger at them."
The Chig were moving toward them, weapons at the ready, the whelps scampering chaotically around their feet. The group crossed the stream, and as they approached the floater, the lead Chig gestured sharply to Klnn-dawan-a with his crossbow. "Bkst-mssrss-(cough)-vtsslss-(cough)-hrss-vss-chlss," he said.
"Mrss-zhss-(cough)-hvssclss'frss-sk-(cough)," Klnn-dawan-a replied, waving her empty hand back toward Thrr-gilag.
"Bkst-mssrss-(cough)," the Chig said.
Klnn-dawan-a nodded and started walking slowly backward toward the floater. "What did you say?" Thrr-gilag asked. "Did you tell him we weren't going to hurt the whelp?"
"I don't think they particularly care about the whelp," Klnn-dawan-a said, her voice tight. "We're the ones they're interested in."
Thrr-gilag looked at the aliens' faces. "I don't like the sound of that."
"Neither do I," Klnn-dawan-a said, backing up against the floater. "These aren't mountain people, Thrr-gilag. Look at those whelps—no glitter tags. They're from one of the cities."
Thrr-gilag felt his tail speed up a little more. Five of those repeater crossbows were now pointed directly at the two Zhirrzh. "Aren't they a little far from home?"
"A good hundred fifty thoustrides at least," she said, "Possibly farther."
The leader and two of the others were standing together, gazing at the Zhirrzh and muttering among themselves. "I thought they weren't allowed to travel long distances," Thrr-gilag said.
"They're not," Klnn-dawan-a said. "But most of the warriors who used to enforce those restrictions have been pulled off Gree."
She spoke in the Chigin language again. The three Chig paused in their discussion, the leader saying something in reply. Klnn-dawan-a spoke again, and for a hunbeat the conversation went back and forth. Then the Chig said something sharp sounding and turned his back on the Zhirrzh. The other two Chig followed suit, the three of them resuming their muttered conversation.
Thrr-gilag took a careful breath. "So what's going on?"
"You're not going to believe this," Klnn-dawan-a said. "Apparently, they're a war party."
Thrr-gilag craned his neck to look at her profile. "They're what?"
"A war party. Or maybe a justice party—they use the same word for both. He says they're here to punish the mountain people for collaborating with us."
Thrr-gilag looked at the five Chig guarding them. At the semiarmor, the metal crossbows, the slender crossbow bolts.
At the long, unusually slender feathering and tips on those bolts...
"No," he murmured to Klnn-dawan-a. "I don't think so. Look at the feathering on those crossbow bolts. They look to me just about the right size to slip through the mesh of a predator fence."
Klnn-dawan-a stiffened. "You're right," she breathed. "They must be going for our encampment. But that's crazy."
"I agree," Thrr-gilag said, looking carefully around. "But they must have good reasons. Or what they consider to be good reasons."
He frowned, suddenly aware of the stinger he still held loosely in his hand. The Chig hadn't disarmed them... and only slowly did it dawn on him that they probably didn't realize the stingers were weapons. Most likely they assumed the devices were hand recorders—the size and shape were just about right for that.
Which meant the Zhirrzh had an advantage their opponents didn't know about. The question was how to use it. If he could quietly bring the stinger up to firing position, then whip it quickly around...
He looked at their guards again, the surge of excitement fading into reality. No. Not unless he wanted to wind up at the family shrine and send Klnn-dawan-a to hers along with it. "What do you suppose they're waiting for?" he asked.
"I was wondering that myself," Klnn-dawan-a admitted. "They've got us; they've got the floater. I'd think they would want to get going before—"
She broke off. From somewhere nearby something gave a warbling yowl, the sound echoing across the mountains. The stray whelp, almost forgotten beside its pile of boulders, howled back in reply. "Uh-oh," Klnn-dawan-a muttered. "I think we're about to get some more company." Thrr-gilag looked around. Two of the five Chig who'd been guarding them were moving up beside the leader and his two friends, their crossbows pointed in the direction the yowl had come from. "More Chig?"
"More Chig. Keep quiet—this could get tricky."
Thrr-gilag had no time to wonder what she meant by that. Directly ahead, three Chig topped a small rise, a half-dozen whelps following along behind them.
"Grazing party," Klnn-dawan-a identified them. "I was right; the whelp had just gotten separated from them."
For a beat the newcomers paused as they caught sight of the group gathered together beside the creek. Then, hefting their own crossbows, they continued on down the hill.
They came to within three strides of the armored leader before stopping. "Sk-(cough)-ssst-tssmss-(cough)-mts-os-mss," one of the newcomers said, gesturing toward the Zhirrzh with the slender tentacles edging his mouth. "Sk-pss-mtss-hrss'mss-(cough)-kss."
The leader of the war party answered in kind. One of the other newcomers spoke and was answered. "What are they saying?" Thrr-gilag whispered.
"I'm not entirely sure," Klnn-dawan-a answered. "They're talking much faster than I'm used to. But it sounds like the warriors want the grazing party to join them. The grazing party is refusing."
Thrr-gilag looked at the three Chig, an odd feeling of warmth rippling through him. "They're on our side?"
"Hardly," Klnn-dawan-a said shortly. "They just don't want to risk bringing reprisals down on themselves."
The warm feeling evaporated. "Oh."
"Don't take it personally," Klnn-dawan-a advised. "There aren't any Chig anywhere who really like us."
Typical bad losers, in other words. All the more contemptible given that they were the ones who'd started the war in the first place. "So why are they still talking?"
Klnn-dawan-a shrugged. "The war-party leader is still trying to talk the others into coming along. The others just want to get their whelp back and go home."
The conversation droned on. Thrr-gilag found himself studying the two different crossbow styles: the multishot repeaters carried by the war party, the much simpler two-shot models of the mountain Chig. If it came to a fight...
But it wouldn't. As Klnn-dawan-a said, none of the Chig liked the Zhirrzh. All they were talking here was varying degrees of hatred. "I wish they'd give it up," he muttered. "Let the grazing party go and get on with it."
"I know," Klnn-dawan-a agreed, her voice frowning. "It's almost as if they were stalling."
Abruptly, she stiffened. "Of course they're stalling," she said. "They're worried about the warships."
Thrr-gilag felt his midlight pupils narrow. Of course—the Zhirrzh encirclement forces. Five warships filled with the best high-power monitoring telescopes in existence. Orbiting slowly over the Gree landscape, watching everything that happened there. "Are any of them overhead right now?"
"I don't know," Klnn-dawan-a said. "I don't know the orbit pattern."
"I'll bet the war party does," Thrr-gilag said, thinking furiously. That must have been what the three Chig were discussing just before the grazing party showed up: whether or not they were in view. The last thing they would want at this point would be for the orbiting warriors to see them kidnap a pair of Zhirrzh. Or, worse, to see them raise those same Zhirrzh to Eldership.
And the fact that they were still talking would imply the group was under at least one of those distant telescopes right now....
Klnn-dawan-a must have sensed something from his posture. "What is it?" she asked, half turning to frown at him.
"Just thinking," Thrr-gilag muttered, glancing up at the occasional fish-scale clouds scattered across the otherwise clear sky. The Chig eye, if he remembered correctly, was supposed to be incapable of seeing the darklight laser frequencies that Zhirrzh stingers operated at. If he eased his stinger to point straight up and fired it...
"What are you thinking?" Klnn-dawan-a asked.
"About trying to call for help," Thrr-gilag told her. All right. The laser, he knew, would sizzle the water in the air as the beam passed through it, producing secondary radiations within the Chigin vision range as well as a certain amount of sound. But in bright sunlight, and with the wind blowing strongly off the mountains and across the stream toward them, there was a fair chance that both the light and the sound would go unnoticed. Particularly with the bulk of the Chig attention on the grazing party.
"Thrr-gilag, are you crazy?" Klnn-dawan-a hissed. "You want to make Elders out of both of us?"
"Quiet," he hissed back, not daring to look at the three Chig still guarding them. All right. He didn't remember very much of the flash-code he and Thrr-mezaz had memorized back when they were children, but every Zhirrzh knew the old three-two-three emergency signal. Carefully, trying not to let the movement show, he turned the stinger to point straight up between him and Klnn-dawan-a. Taking a deep breath, he keyed for full power and adjusted his thumbs on the triggers—
And with a crack of a supersonic shock wave, a Zhirrzh transport shot over the hilltops and blazed past overhead.
One of the Chig screeched, a high-pitched howl that dug like knives into Thrr-gilag's ear slits. An instant later he found himself sprawled on the ground, his legs having collapsed ignominiously beneath him. With one hand he was gripping Klnn-dawan-a's jumpsuit, dragging her bodily down beside him; with the other hand he still clutched his stinger. All around him the air was alive with the thunder of the transport, the sizzling of laser shots, the sharp multiple snap of crossbow threads. The Chig and their whelps were howling madly; and over all of it he could hear Klnn-dawan-a screaming something. Pulling her tightly against him, he fired his stinger, sweeping it blindly around them. There was a crack of stressed ceramic as the beam caught the side of the floater—a sudden stab of pain slashing across the side of his head—the stinger swinging randomly toward the ground as he flinched away from the pain—
And then a new roaring sound abruptly joined the pandemonium around them. A sizzling roar, followed instantly by a violent, blinding rush of dense steam.
Unexpectedly, certainly without planning on his part, the beam from his stinger had found the creek. Bracing himself, squeezing his eyes shut against the scalding cloud, Thrr-gilag kept firing.
The Chig were still howling, but the howl had taken on a note of desperation. Buffeted and burned by the wind-driven steam, their enemies effectively shrouded from view, they must have known they had lost. But still they fought, until all the howls had been silenced.
And Klnn-dawan-a's desperate, pleading scream was all that was left.
The battlefield, once Thrr-gilag was finally able to get a good look at it, was horrifying.
Dead Chig and whelps littered the ground, some with their limbs twisted at bizarre angles, all crisscrossed with the blackened lines of laser burns. A group of Zhirrzh moved back and forth across the carnage, going silently about the grim task of collecting the dead.
And at one edge of it stood Klnn-dawan-a. Her face as dead as those of the Chig.
She didn't look up as Thrr-gilag stepped over to her. "Hey," he said softly, touching her shoulder. "You all right?"
"They killed them all," she said, her voice as dead as her expression. "All of them. Even the grazing party."
Thrr-gilag nodded. "I know."
"The grazing party wasn't even doing anything," she said. "They weren't bothering anyone."
"I know," Thrr-gilag said again with a sigh. That wasn't how the transport's pilot and Director Prr-eddsi were going to report it, of course. That much he'd been able to figure out from the snatches of conversation he'd heard while the healer had patched up his head wound. Prr-eddsi was going to report it as a coordinated Chig attack, with a violent but necessary Zhirrzh response.
Thrr-gilag and Klnn-dawan-a knew better. Not that anyone was likely to listen. Or was likely to care.
"We're finished here," Klnn-dawan-a said, looking slowly across the bodies. "Our chrysalis studies, our whelp examinations—all of it. Gone, just like that. The Chig up here will never trust us or cooperate with us again."
"Maybe," Thrr-gilag agreed. "But if the warship hadn't spotted us when it did and sent the transport over, we'd be Elders by now. You think that would have left your relationship with the Chig in any better shape?"
"No," Klnn-dawan-a conceded. "Certainly not after the reprisals were finished with." She turned and looked at him, wincing as her gaze came to rest on his bandage. "I'm sorry, Thrr-gilag. I didn't even think to ask about your wound."
"Oh, it's all right," he assured her. "And I'm fine. A near miss by a crossbow bolt, they tell me."
"More near than miss," she said, a flicker of life coming back into her face as she touched the bandage with gentle fingers. "You sure you're all right?"
"I'm fine." He looked back at the transport. "I don't mean to be callous or anything, but I'm going to have to leave soon, and we still haven't got anywhere on our problem. You have any idea of what levers we can use against the Dhaa'rr leaders?"
Klnn-dawan-a took a deep breath, visibly extricating herself from her emotional tangle about the Chig slaughter. "I don't know," she said. "I can't think right now."
"I understand," Thrr-gilag said. "I can probably stay a little while longer."
"No, you'd better head back while you can," Klnn-dawan-a said, flicking her tongue in a negative. "We won't have any chance at all if you show up late at Unity City. I'll talk to my family and friends. See if we can come up with something."
"All right," Thrr-gilag said. "Just try to be careful which Elders you use as your pathway."
"Searcher Klnn-dawan-a?" a voice called.
Thrr-gilag turned to see the transport pilot standing at the top of the landing ramp. "Yes?" Klnn-dawan-a called.
"Call for you, Searcher," the pilot said. "Direct laser link from orbit."
Frowning, Thrr-gilag followed Klnn-dawan-a back to the transport and up the ramp. "Here she is," the pilot said, keying a switch on a small communications board just inside the hatchway and gesturing to it. "All yours, Searcher."
He moved a few strides away as Klnn-dawan-a stepped up to the board. "This is Searcher Klnn-dawan-a."
"Searcher, this is the third commander of the Perseverance," a voice said. "We've received a priority message from the Dhaa'rr Leadership Council indicating that you're to be brought immediately to Dharanv."
Klnn-dawan-a threw Thrr-gilag a startled look. "For what reason?"
"The message didn't specify," the third commander said. "You'll have one tentharc to make preparations, at which time the transport currently at your encampment will bring you to orbit. We'll leave for Dharanv as soon as you're aboard."
"Understood," Klnn-dawan-a said. "I'll be ready."
"Very good. Perseverance out."
There was a click, and the communication went quiet. "I'm coming with you," Thrr-gilag murmured.
"They may not be willing to take you along," Klnn-dawan-a murmured back.
"I don't care if they're willing or not," Thrr-gilag said firmly. "We go together, or we don't go at all. Anyone makes a stink about it, and I'll raise noise all the way up to the Overclan Prime."
"All right." Klnn-dawan-a squeezed his hand tightly. "I didn't really want to go alone, anyway."
The pilot stepped over to them. "I've been ordered to take you to orbit, Searcher," he said to Klnn-dawan-a. "If you'd like, I can take you back to the encampment right now, instead of waiting for the group outside to finish up. That would give you a little more time to pack."
"Thank you," Klnn-dawan-a said. "You'll have room for Thrr-gilag, too, won't you?"
The pilot looked at Thrr-gilag, a hint of uncertainty crossing his face. He was Dhaa'rr, and the word had come down from above; and all at once, it seemed, the easy informality that had let him juggle his schedule so that he could give Thrr-gilag a lift was gone.
But only for a beat. "Sure, no problem," he assured them. "Go ahead forward and get strapped in. I'll go tell Director Prr-eddsi what we're doing, and then we'll be off."
Great, Thrr-gilag thought to himself as he and Klnn-dawan-a made their way toward the front of the transport. Off to face the Dhaa'rr leaders and Elders. All of them looking for a rock-hard reason to nullify his bond-engagement to Klnn-dawan-a. Like a group of crazed Chig whelps, waiting for their prey to make a fatal mistake...
He frowned suddenly. Chig whelps. Dangerous in packs; safer and less violent as individuals.
Just like Humans?
"What is it?" Klnn-dawan-a asked.
"I don't know," Thrr-gilag said slowly. "Maybe nothing. Or maybe I've just found the key to the Humans' behavior."
"Really? What is it?"
Thrr-gilag flicked his tongue in a negative. "Let me think about it a little longer. Can you get copies of all your studies?"
"I've already got them," Klnn-dawan-a said. "They're back at the encampment."
"Bring them along," Thrr-gilag told her. "Especially anything having to do with biochemical behavior triggers in Chig whelps."
But that wouldn't be enough, he knew. It might give them an idea of the direction to look in, but it wouldn't prove anything. The only proof would be if he could find similar behavior triggers in the Humans' biochemistry.
And for that they'd need to get hold of another Human.
"I don't like that look," Klnn-dawan-a said into his thoughts. "It worries me."
"It's all right," Thrr-gilag said, grimacing as he patted her hand. "I'm just thinking about how I'm going to ask my brother for a favor."
"A big favor?"
Thrr-gilag sighed. "You wouldn't believe it if I told you."
"Overclan Prime?" the Eighteenth said, his voice seeming to come out of nothingness in the darkened room. "The Speaker for Dhaa'rr is on his way."
"Thank you," the Prime said, laying his stylus down beside the gently glowing reader monitor and swiveling his chair to face the door of his private chambers. "Was he seen?"
"Not since he left the Speakers' office building," the Eighteenth said. "I don't think he's seen us, either."
"Make sure you keep it that way," the Prime warned him. "Especially here. Everyone who knows about this room and its secrets is also under the impression that no Elders at all are positioned to reach it."
"We won't be seen," the Eighteenth assured him. "Good luck."
The Prime took a deep breath, settling his thoughts. A few beats later there was a quiet knock at the door. "Come," the Prime called.
The door swung open to reveal a dark figure, silhouetted against the brighter corridor light behind it. "You wished to see me, Overclan Prime?" Speaker Cvv-panav said.
"Yes, Speaker," the Prime said. "Please; sit down."
Cvv-panav moved inside, closing the door behind him. "Your lighting seems to have failed," he commented dryly as he stepped into the circle of pale light from the reader monitor and sat down on the visitor couch. "Careless of the maintainers."
"I find darkness to be conducive to thought," the Prime said. "Tell me, have you heard the news from Gree?"
"What news would that be?" Cvv-panav asked evenly.
"News about Searcher Thrr-gilag; Kee'rr," the Prime said. "Bond-engaged to a daughter of the Dhaa'rr. I understand there was an incident a few tentharcs ago that has certain members of your clan speaking rather highly of him. Something about quick thinking under pressure."
"Utter nonsense," Cvv-panav spat. "And you know it as well as I do. I doubt Thrr-gilag had any intention whatsoever of hitting that creek with his stinger beam. If he was aiming at anything—and I doubt even that—it was at one of the Chig. What happened out there was pure good luck, nothing more."
The Prime shrugged. "Perhaps. Still, he did hit the water; and all who were there agree that the cloud of steam was a significant factor in a quick Zhirrzh victory. I've seen the sort of crossbow bolts the Chig use—a few properly positioned shots could easily have taken out something as lightly armored as a shipping transport. Two of their four laser cannon had already been disabled, in fact, when Thrr-gilag made his move. And, of course, he also pulled Klnn-dawan-a down out of danger. All in all, a reasonably impressive display. Particularly for one not trained as a warrior."
"If you asked me here to rub my tongue in Kee'rr triumphs, Overclan Prime, then I would ask permission to be excused," Cvv-panav growled. "If instead you have a point to make, kindly make it. It's very late, and my time is valuable."
"My point is quite simple, Speaker," the Prime said. "Whatever the contributions of good luck or accident, the fact is that Thrr-gilag has come out of this incident with considerably more personal prestige than he had going in. Particularly among those Dhaa'rr who were facing into the Chig crossbows. It occurs to me that the last thing you might want right now is for a member of the Thrr family to have his reputation enhanced."
For a long beat Cvv-panav was silent, his expression unreadable. "Interesting conjecture," he said at last. "Have you a suggestion to go along with it?"
"A suggestion and an offer both," the Prime said. "I submit that what you really want right now is an excuse to call of the bond-engagement of Thrr-gilag to Klnn-dawan-a. How would you like to obtain evidence that Thrr-gilag's mother is both insane and criminal?"
Cvv-panav straightened slightly on his couch. "Is she?"
"No, not really," the Prime said. "But I believe that such an illusion can be created. She has in fact taken the first steps for us: she has apparently decided that she doesn't wish to accept Eldership."
"I see," Cvv-panav said. "That would be the insanity part, I presume. What about the criminal part?"
"That will stem from her hiring someone to steal her fsss organ from her family shrine," the Prime said. "Stolen so that she may destroy it."
"Really," Cvv-panav said. "And how would she go about finding someone willing to do this for her?"
"Obviously, she would have no idea how to do so." The Prime smiled tightly. "Which is why the Dhaa'rr will offer her their services."
Cvv-panav's eyes flicked around the room, as if reassuring himself that this room and conversation were completely private. "If this is some sort of joke, it's in extremely poor taste," he said calmly. "The Dhaa'rr do not rob shrines. Not for Kee'rr or anyone else."
"Oh, she wouldn't know they were Dhaa'rr," the Prime assured him. "She wouldn't know anything about them at all. Not even that they were robbers for hire."
"Then why bring the Dhaa'rr into it? Why not stage the entire deception yourself?"
"Because there's no one in the Overclan capable of handling such a delicate operation," the Prime told him. "At least none whom I could implicitly trust. Certainly none who could quietly vanish afterward to, say, the wilds of Dharanv without anyone noticing. Without evidence and with no one around she can identify, no one will believe Thrr-pifix-a's story."
There was another beat of silence. "It's still nothing more than a tasteless joke," Cvv-panav said. "But I'll allow myself to be amused. Tell me more."
"Again, it's quite simple," the Prime said. "You'll send two or three of your people to Thrr-pifix-a's home near Reeds Village. People close to you, of course, whom you can implicitly trust. They'll represent themselves as members of some fictitious organization that advocates Eldership as a private and personal choice, and will offer to retrieve her fsss from the shrine and bring it to her. They will do so; and as soon as they've left her, warriors under Overclan authority will move in, recovering the fsss and charging her with grand-first theft."
"Risky," Cvv-panav grunted. "Even without any substantiation, there would be some at a public hearing who would wonder about her story."
"Which is why there won't be any hearing," the Prime nodded. "The warriors will move in quickly enough to prevent any damage to her fsss, circumventing the most serious charges. After that—" He gestured vaguely. "I thought that as a compassionate gesture you might be willing to use your influence with the Overclan to arrange for the charges to be quietly dropped."
"In exchange for an equally quiet cancellation of the bond-engagement?"
"Exactly."
"Interesting," Cvv-panav murmured, stroking the side of his face thoughtfully. "You spoke of an offer."
"Obviously, you'd want no witnesses to this transaction," the Prime said. "Thrr-pifix-a lives alone, and in an isolated area, but of course one must always consider the Elders. Fortunately, there's only one shrine—that of the Frr family—whose Elders have access to the region around Thrr-pifix-a's house. On the chosen latearc I'll have one of my chief subordinates moderate an open debate on some issue of vital interest to the Elders—a possible increase in the number of cutting pyramids, perhaps, or some news about job opportunities. The debate will be held in Kee'rr territory, within easy range of both the Frr and Thrr shrines. That should guarantee your privacy at both the theft and delivery ends of the operation."
"Perhaps." Cvv-panav eyed him. "An interesting suggestion, Overclan Prime, and an even more interesting offer. It's clear what the Dhaa'rr would gain. Now tell me what the Overclan would gain."
The Prime shrugged. Here came the tricky part: convincing Cvv-panav that all this by itself was enough of a reason for him to get involved. "The Overclan would gain in two ways," he said. "First, it would neutralize Thrr-pifix-a and her dangerous ideas before they have a chance to spread. That's the overwhelming reason I want her discredited, and as quickly as possible."
"I doubt anyone's going to pay much attention to her," Cvv-panav sniffed. "Certainly not in the middle of a war."
"On the contrary: the middle of a war is precisely when such ideas find their widest audience," the Prime countered. "With the public watching dozens of young warriors being raised to Eldership every fullarc—and watching all of them suffer the lengthy disorientation of long-distance anchoring shock—some are bound to call into question the basic relevance and usefulness of Eldership. The last thing we can afford is to have the focal point of a simple, reasonable old female asking for the right to decline Eldership on her own."
"Perhaps," Cvv-panav said. "It still seems unlikely to me."
"Trust me: there are numerous historical precedents," the Prime told him. "I won't go into details. And second, I would consider my assistance on this as the purchase price for enhanced Dhaa'rr cooperation with our campaign against the Human-Conquerors."
Cvv-panav's face darkened. "You accuse the Dhaa'rr of working crossways to the Zhirrzh war effort?"
"Not exactly crossways," the Prime said. "But you have your own interests; and they do not always mesh with mine. Or with those of the Zhirrzh people as a whole."
Cvv-panav smiled. "You're still upset about my insistence that the Dhaa'rr be represented on the upcoming Mrachani mission, aren't you?"
"To be honest, yes," the Prime said, allowing a touch of annoyance to creep into his voice. "That was against all standard protocol, and we both know it. There are also your various political machinations over at Warrior Command as you try to slice through established warrior authority structures to suit yourself and the Dhaa'rr. Totally unacceptable at any time; potentially disastrous in time of war. Plus there's your continuing pressure on the Overclan to grant you—and you alone—restricted information on warrior operations."
"Some of which should not be nearly as restricted as you seem to think," Cvv-panav said pointedly.
"You're entitled to your opinion," the Prime said. "Such decisions will nevertheless remain with Warrior Command and me. And I would expect you to accept that authority as part of this bargain."
Cvv-panav stroked the side of his head again. "I don't know, Overclan Prime. You ask a great deal in return for the cancelation of a single distasteful bond-engagement."
"Perhaps," the Prime said. "I suppose you'll just have to decide how distasteful the bond-engagement really is. And how distasteful it would be for the rest of the Dhaa'rr leaders and Elders."
A hint of a wince crossed the other's face. Small, brief, but unmistakable... and in that flicker of emotion the Prime knew he'd won. Even Speaker Cvv-panav, ostensibly the most powerful member of the Dhaa'rr clan, could not escape the pressure and influence of his own Elders. Elders who were in many cases as anchored to their own long-past eras and customs as they were to their family shrines. "You drive a hard bargain, Overclan Prime," the Speaker said. "I'll agree to this much: I'll suspend my efforts to have competent warrior commanders replaced by Dhaa'rr subordinates, and I'll furthermore stop demanding full briefings on restricted war information. Will that be sufficient?"
"I think so, yes," the Prime said. "Let me know when you'll be ready to move."
"I can let you know right now," Cvv-panav said. "It'll be in two fullarcs."
"Really," the Prime said, somewhat taken aback. "So soon?"
"You're the one who said this should be done as quickly as possible," Cvv-panav reminded him. "I have people on hand right here who can handle my part of the operation and then disappear for a while." He smiled slyly. "Unless, of course, you're going to have trouble setting up your open Elder debate so quickly."
The Prime smiled back. "Hardly. I'll have the announcement made within the tentharc."
"Good," Cvv-panav said, nodding politely as he stood up. "Two fullarcs from now, then."
"I'll look forward to hearing how it went."
"I'll be sure to give you a proper briefing," Cvv-panav said dryly as he stepped to the door. "Good latearc, Overclan Prime."
"Good latearc, Speaker Cvv-panav."
The Speaker left, closing the door behind him, and for a few beats the room was silent. "An interesting character," the Eighteenth's voice commented into the darkness.
"Interesting is hardly the word I'd use," the Prime growled, glaring at the closed door.
"Arrogant, perhaps?" the Twenty-fifth suggested. "Or slippery?"
"Much closer," the Prime agreed. "You notice how he appeared to accept both of my conditions without actually giving in on either of them?"
"Certainly," the Eighteenth said. "Only competent warrior commanders are henceforth immune from his politics. With their competence being defined by him, of course."
"And no more demands for full briefings means he can still clamor for private briefings," the Eleventh put in.
"Or simply ignore the Overclan briefing process entirely and concentrate his investigations at Warrior Command," the Seventh added.
"That won't gain him anything," the Twenty-eighth rumbled. "Warrior Command knows as well as we do what releasing knowledge about the CIRCE weapon could do to Zhirrzh society."
"Yet they also know we can't keep it under cover forever," the Fourth said quietly. "Eventually, the truth will leak out."
"But not until we've fought the Human-Conquerors to an impasse," the Prime said firmly, cutting off the impending debate. "We need only control access to any one of the CIRCE elements to make the weapon useless to them."
"The trick being to know when we've done that," the Twenty-second muttered. "Otherwise, we risk spreading our resources so thin that they're all but useless."
"We can do only what we can," the Eighteenth said philosophically. "At any rate, this should at least eliminate the added distraction posed by Speaker Cvv-panav and his inconvenient curiosity. You can be ready in two fullarcs, Overclan Prime?"
"Easily," the Prime assured him. "The debate is already planned. All I need to do is announce the time and place. And I've already spoken to my warriors about the other part of it."
"Good," the Eighteenth said. "Then we have nothing to do except wait."
"Yes," the Twenty-second said darkly. "And hope that the Human-Conquerors will be as easy to deal with as Speaker Cvv-panav."
The cliff face loomed above them, stark and blank and dirty-gray in the blazing sunlight. And a good thirty strides straight up. "I don't know, Commander," Warrior First Vstii-suuv said, shading his eyes as he looked up at the cliff. "Looks a bit tricky."
"Not to mention pretty exposed," Warrior Third Qlaa-nuur added.
"It is both of those," Thrr-mezaz agreed, gazing up at the cliff. "All in all, I'd prefer a more reasonable route myself. The question is, is one available?"
"One that doesn't expose us to direct view from the Human-Conqueror sentry positions?" Vstii-suuv asked. "Yes."
Vstii-suuv looked up at the cliff again, measuring it with his eyes. Thrr-mezaz watched him, wondering if he should just give up on this and get the three of them back to the village. He'd persuaded Supreme Ship Commander Dkll-kumvit to authorize this little trip up the mountain by calling it a dry run; but unless and until he could get another fsss cutting from either Warrior Command or the Prr family, this wasn't much more than a refresher course in rock climbing.
Still, right now none of them had much else to do. Between their own village encampment and the Human-Conqueror mountain stronghold, the war on Dorcas had settled into a basic halkling-nornin standoff. The Zhirrzh might as well try being the halkling half of the game for a change.
"Well, if it's a choice between climbing here or being shot at by Human-Conqueror sentries, I guess I'd go for the climb," Vstii-suuv decided, shrugging the coil of rope off his shoulder.
"Of course, once we're above the tree line, we can have both at once," Qlaa-nuur muttered.
"If the Human-Conquerors spot us, these trees aren't going to provide a lot of cover anyway," Thrr-mezaz pointed out. "Let's get to it."
"Right," Vstii-suuv said, handing Thrr-mezaz the coil of rope and checking to make sure it was secured to his climbing harness. "I'll take lead; Qlaa-nuur, you're on anchor. Let's go."
He stepped to the cliff face, dug fingers and toe-boots into small crevices, and started nimbly up. Thrr-mezaz played the rope out behind him, waiting for his own turn to start climbing and wondering for the thousandth time what in the eighteen worlds he was doing out here. Yes, he was one of exactly three Zhirrzh in the Dorcas expeditionary force who had done any rock climbing at all; and yes, the first rule of mountaineering was that three climbers was the absolute minimum for any halfway safe climb. But his limited recreational climbing hardly put him in the same class with these two members of the Aree'rr clan, who'd practically grown up scaling mountains. Inevitably, he was going to slow them down... and here, in the shadow of Human-Conqueror weapons, that kind of handicap could easily wind up raising all three of them to Eldership.
And he didn't want to become an Elder. Not yet. There were still too many things he wanted to do, places he wanted to see, experiences that would require his physical self to fully and properly appreciate. Sometime in the vague and distant future, certainly, he would be ready for that stage of life. But not now. Not yet. If he had any sense, he would abort this and head back to the relative safety of the village.
"All right," Qlaa-nuur said. "Go ahead, Commander."
"Right." Snapping Vstii-suuv's rope into the friction grab rings on his harness, Thrr-mezaz took a deep breath and started up the cliff face.
It wasn't as slow going as he had feared. Vstii-suuv had been liberal with his expansion pitons, scattering them around within easy climbing distance of each other. Three strides up, Thrr-mezaz came on one in crumbling rock that was already loosening; pulling a replacement from his harness, he slid its slender tip into a nearby crack and sliced through the protective cover with the edge of his tongue. There was a gentle hiss as the foamed-ceramic interior of the tip, exposed to air, began to swell up inside the crack, filling the empty space as it hardened. A few beats later, with the piton now a virtual extension of the rock, he locked in the rope and continued on.
"Certainly a change from the encampment, anyway," Qlaa-nuur commented from just beneath him.
Thrr-mezaz looked down. Predictably, the more experienced Aree'rr had caught up with him. "Almost like a vacation," he agreed, turning back around and concentrating on his climbing, reminding himself not to be pressured into rushing this.
Qlaa-nuur was obviously of the same opinion. "Careful and steady, Commander," he warned. "We're not in any particular hurry here."
"Right," Thrr-mezaz said. "You two are very good at this."
"Lots and lots of practice," Qlaa-nuur said. "In my case, much of it against my parents' wishes."
Thrr-mezaz stopped to set another expansion piton, wondering what sorts of things like this he and Thrr-gilag might have done as children to drive their parents crazy. Offhand, he couldn't think of any. "Well, according to the orbital terrain maps, this cliff is the last real challenge between here and the top," he reminded Qlaa-nuur. "And once we get to the other side of this ridge, we should be within four thoustrides of the edge of the Human-Conquerors' stronghold. A good place to put a ten-thoustride cutting, assuming we can get Warrior Command to send us one."
"Or maybe a little something from Prr't-zevisti's fsss," Vstii-suuv muttered.
"What was that?" Thrr-mezaz asked, looking up at him.
"Nothing, Commander. Watch out—the rock right here is a little crumbly."
"Understood," Thrr-mezaz murmured, stifling a sigh. Two and a half fullarcs now after presenting his request to the Prr family recorder, the story had gotten out to the entire Dorcas ground force. Most of them, like the Elder who'd carried the initial message, were thoroughly scandalized at the very idea of his asking for a cutting from an Elder presumed dead, especially an Elder from a different clan. Some, like Vstii-suuv, were offended enough to hint at it to his face.
It was just as well, he reflected, that Klnn-vavgi had kept the second part of that latearc idea to himself. If his warriors knew that he'd suggested putting a fsss cutting out in the wilds without a shrine or pyramid around it, he'd probably wind up with an open mutiny.
"Commander?" Qlaa-nuur's voice was very quiet.
"Yes?" Thrr-mezaz said, looking down at him again.
Qlaa-nuur was gazing to the side, away from the cliff. "We've got company."
A sinking feeling in his throat, Thrr-mezaz turned to look. Knowing all too well what he would see.
And he was right. Hovering there on its jet stream, its beak and weapons turned pointedly to face them, was a Human-Conqueror aircraft.
"Hold it up, Vstii-suuv," Thrr-mezaz called softly to the lead, his eyes on the aircraft, the sinking feeling turning into a dark and hopeless certainty. Halfway up a cliff face, pinned there by ropes and pitons and a twenty-stride sheer drop to the ground below, their position was about as devoid of options as it could be. A single salvo with those lethal projectile weapons, and all three Zhirrzh would be back at their respective family shrines.
A soft curse floated down from above: Vstii-suuv, becoming suddenly aware of the situation. "What now, Commander?" he asked. "Should we try to get in the first shot?"
"Not much chance of that," Thrr-mezaz said, keeping his own voice quiet. Though what good silence and stealth were going to do them right then he couldn't imagine. "We're right in his sights—he could cut us to worm food before we could even begin to get our weapons unslung."
"What do you suppose he's waiting for?" Qlaa-nuur muttered from beneath him.
"Checking to see if there are more of us around, maybe," Thrr-mezaz said. "Or trying to locate our transport. Or just keeping us pinned here until the ground warriors arrive."
Vstii-suuv swore again. "I'm not going to be a Human-Conqueror prisoner, Commander. I'd rather go to my shrine right now."
"Let's not do anything drastic just yet," Thrr-mezaz advised him, leaning his head back and trying to gauge the distance remaining to the top of the cliff face. If he and Qlaa-nuur could somehow distract the Human-Conquerors long enough for Vstii-suuv to make a quick surge for the top...
But no. Not a chance. There were still ten strides yet to cover, all of it too steep for anything but a cautious advance. A single misstep along the way—
He frowned. For a pair of beats he thought he'd seen something up there. A flicker of movement, up among the shadows of the trees atop the cliff. Something that might have been a trick of the light, or a glimpse of Human-Conqueror ground warriors.
Or a Zhirrzh Elder.
"Commander?" Qlaa-nuur asked. "What are we going to do?"
For another few beats Thrr-mezaz continued to gaze at the top of the cliff. But whatever he'd seen up there didn't return. If it had been real in the first place. "We're going to start down," he told the others. "Slow and easy, not reaching for any weapons, nothing that looks like a threat. Vstii-suuv, you'll pop the rope free from the upper pitons as you pass them. We'll go about ten strides down; and then, about ten strides up from the bottom, we're all going to let go and do a flat-out drop. With good luck that may take them by surprise. Any questions?"
The question was obvious, too obvious for either of the other two to bring it up. The friction grabs built into expansion piton rings were designed precisely for the purpose of protecting climbers by slowing down dangerous falls of that sort. But it was fairly certain that the pitons' designers hadn't assumed that three climbers would all be falling at the same time. If they overstressed the grabs too far, there was a fair chance the Human-Conquerors would be able to just leisurely stroll up and cart them off on stretchers.
But under the circumstances it was the best chance they had. And all of them knew it. "All right, then," Thrr-mezaz said, taking a careful breath. "Nothing to be gained by waiting. Let's get to it."
The door to the metal room swung open, clanging dully against its stop. Hovering in his corner, Prr't-zevisti eased up to the edge of the lightworld to see what was happening.
The Human female Doctor-Cavan-a had returned. Back to do more experiments on his fsss cutting.
"Terrific," he muttered to himself. Doctor-Cavan-a had spent a good two tentharcs in here last fullarc, taking samples here and digging with metal probes there; never really hurting him but never very far from that threshold, either. And always with those low-level Elderdeath emissions in the background, just to keep him distracted and annoyed.
And now she was back. To do more cutting and digging and probing? Or had they finally decided to go all-out with the Elderdeath weapons? It occurred to him that they might have deliberately let him run loose in here, allowing him to learn their language in preparation for a proper and almost certainly painful interrogation....
He frowned, his apprehensions coming to a puzzled stop. Doctor-Cavan-a wasn't moving over to her laboratory worktable. Nor was she going to any of the shelves for equipment or supplies, nor was she looking outside as if waiting for someone else to come in behind her. She was just standing there in the doorway, looking around the room.
Cautiously, dropping back to the darkness of the grayworld, Prr't-zevisti left his corner and eased to the door beside her, coming back to the edge of the lightworld to take a look. A handful of other Humans were in sight outside, but none of them seemed to be heading toward the metal room.
He looked back at Doctor-Cavan-a, wondering if she had simply paused for thought or meditation before beginning her work. But she was still standing in the doorway looking around the room. Steadily, methodically, as if searching for something.
Or for someone.
Prr't-zevisti felt a chill run through him. He'd been right. They did indeed know he was in here.
But then why was she searching for him with the door open? Daring him to leave, with perhaps some sort of trap waiting for him?
Prr't-zevisti grimaced. Fine; he was game. He was getting tired of the metal room, anyway. Carefully, trying to look every direction at once, he headed out along his anchorline. Some of the equipment piles in the cave area outside had disappeared since his last time out there, but aside from that he couldn't see much change. Bright sunlight poured in from outside the rock overhang, throwing brilliant glints from some of the metal devices near the edge.
So far, no traps. Looking back once to assure himself that Doctor-Cavan-a wasn't in the process of closing the door, he headed out into the light. Across the deep cut directly below the cave he went, through the tops of the trees growing on the opposite side, across another gap to the top of another ridge—this the one with a sheer cliff face on the other side of it—a few strides farther on to the end of his anchorline, back again toward the cliff—
And jolted to an abrupt stop, a rush of shock rippling through him. There, working their way up the cliff face, were three Zhirrzh warriors. Among them, Commander Thrr-mezaz himself.
And approaching stealthily from around the far side of one of the hills, still out of the warriors' sight, was a Human aircraft.
"Look out!" Prr't-zevisti shouted as loudly as he could. "Commander Thrr-mezaz, Zhirrzh warriors—look out!"
It was no use. The warriors were a good twelve strides down from him, much too far away to hear an Elder's faint voice over the restless mountain winds. Prr't-zevisti dropped toward them, knowing that the effort would be futile. He was right: he got barely a stride before bumping up sharply against the shadow created by the underside of the distant metal room. "Look out!" he shouted again, all but screaming now. But still they continued on, making their laborious way up the cliff—
"Well?"
Prr't-zevisti was shooting back along his anchorline almost before the quiet Human word had had a chance to register. That voice had spoken near his fsss cutting; and if Doctor-Cavan-a was about to close the door, it would be his death unless he immediately got back inside. He crossed the hills—darted back beneath the mountain overhang—noted almost without conscious thought as he passed that the door was still wide-open—and came to a halt back in the relative safety of the metal room.
Directly in front of Doctor-Cavan-a and another Human. Both of whom were looking straight at him.
Prr't-zevisti was deep in the grayworld in an instant. But too late. "There!" Doctor-Cavan-a's voice said, faint and distant. "Did you see it?"
"Yes," the other Human voice said. "Very (something) indeed."
Prr't-zevisti moved over to his preferred corner of the metal room, cursing himself for his carelessness. He was in for it now, all right. Whether Doctor-Cavan-a had ever known for sure that he was there, she definitely knew now. And unlike the last time he'd been seen by the Humans, this time they had him well and properly trapped. He eased back to the edge of the lightworld....
To find both Humans again gazing right at him. "You—Zhirrzh—at the other end," the other Human said, pointing a hand at him. "Can you hear me?"
Prr't-zevisti dropped back into the grayworld, cursing his carelessness and stupidity. "It's gone again," Doctor-Cavan-a's voice came via his fsss cutting.
"Maybe," the other Human said. "Maybe not. Zhirrzh, this is (something) (something) (something), commander of the Human (something) forces. I wish to speak to your commander."
My commander's climbing a cliff into your ambush, Prr't-zevisti thought bitterly, hugging the illusory safety of the grayworld and hating his vulnerability. And his helplessness.
"I don't understand, (something)," Doctor-Cavan-a's voice murmured. "If this is the end of a (something), why can't they hear?"
"I'm sure they (something) can," the Human commander said. "They just aren't answer (something). Keep an eye out—I'm go (something) to check with the (something)."
There was the sound of a footstep on metal. Prr't-zevisti found a different corner and eased back to the edge of the lightworld. The Human commander was walking toward the door, probably intending to close it.
And suddenly Prr't-zevisti snapped out of his frozen paralysis. There were Human forces closing in on Zhirrzh warriors out there, and he had to make one final effort to warn them. Darting past the Humans and out of the room, he shot back to the cliff.
The Zhirrzh were still there, but they were no longer climbing. They were hanging from the cliff face by their ropes, looking at the aircraft now hovering in full view in front of them.
Prr't-zevisti cursed again, a fresh sense of helplessness flooding through him. Surely there was something he could have done. Something he still could do. He looked around desperately, trying to come up with an idea. Trees, soil, the cliff face itself—
But nothing. Nothing that an Elder could touch. Nothing that an Elder could do.
And then there was an irresistible nudge at his side. The door to the metal room, being swung closed against his anchorline.
He was back in an instant, trembling with the reaction of too many shocks and emotions piled too quickly on top of each other. Doctor-Cavan-a was still there, her eyes searching for him, as he dropped into the grayworld.
A muffled clank penetrated into the darkness from his fsss cutting: the door, slamming shut. Prr't-zevisti stayed where he was, aching with the image and memory of those three young Zhirrzh out there facing sudden Eldership. For a hunbeat nothing happened. Then, with another clank, he heard the door open and shut again. "They're start(something) down," the voice of the Human commander said. "Probably go (something) to make it before the (something) team gets to them."
"What are you go(something) to do?" Doctor-Cavan-a asked.
"Unless they keep come(something), I'm go(something) to let them go," the Human commander said. His voice, Prr't-zevisti noted, was growing louder, as if he were moving closer to the fsss cutting. "I'd like to find out what they want (something) here. (Something), we (something) them to try it again."
"You don't think it was just (something)?" Doctor-Cavan-a said.
There was a gentle click: the lid of the box holding his fsss cutting being opened. "No," the Human commander said, so close now that Prr't-zevisti could feel the puffs of warm air from his breath. "No, I think it had some(something) to do with this thing. Try (something) to position themselves where they could (something) with it, perhaps."
"The (something) idea?"
"Why not? All we really know about their tech (something) is that it's (something) different from ours."
"But here in the (something) (something)? I thought it block (something) all (something)."
"(Something), yes. Maybe that's why the others out there were climb(something). Try (something) to get into range." The commander exhaled loudly, his breath tickling uncomfortably across the fsss cutting. "This is the key, Doctor-Cavan-a. Right here. I know it is. You any closer to figure (something) out what it is?"
"It's (something) (something)," Doctor-Cavan-a said. "That much I know for sure. It's also (something) with (something) and (something). But the really interest (something) part, at least from a (something) point of view, is that the hard (something) is hard only on the outside. The rest of it is soft and even somewhat (something) active."
"What do you mean, (something) active?" the commander asked. "It's dead. How can it be (something) active?"
"I haven't the (something) idea," Doctor-Cavan-a said. "But here's the other interest(something) part of it. When you take a new sample, the outer (something) slowly hard (something) up again. It must be trigger (something) by (something) to air."
"But then we're not talk (something) any kind of ordinary (something)," the commander said. "This is a more active (something)."
"Right," Doctor-Cavan-a said. "Though what sort of (something) could do that, I don't know."
"And (something) active in the (something)," the commander murmured. "Interest (something). Very interest (something)."
He stopped talking, and for a few beats there was nothing but the sound and feel of his breath on Prr't-zevisti's fsss cutting. "Well, keep at it," he said at last, his breath and voice turning away. "At the (something), it's about all we have to go on."
"I know," Doctor-Cavan-a agreed. "I'll get back to work right away."
"I (something) you wait a few (something) first," the commander said, his voice accompanied by the sound of the metal door opening. "If the Zhirrzh out there decide to (something), we may have other (something) work for you."
He left, closing the door behind him. Carefully, choosing a different corner this time, Prr't-zevisti eased back to the edge of the lightworld.
Doctor-Cavan-a was standing beside the shelves, gazing down at the fsss cutting in its box. "What are you for?" she asked softly. "Why do the Zhirrzh take you out of their (something)?"
For a pair of beats Prr't-zevisti was almost tempted to answer her. They had him trapped, and at this point they surely knew that. There really wasn't a lot to be gained by skulking around pretending he wasn't there.
But he stayed quiet. His long-past warrior training, perhaps, and those dire warnings about the dangers of voluntary communication and cooperation with the enemy. Or maybe it was just the irrational hope that they didn't really know he was trapped there.
Because once they knew they had him trapped, there would be no reason for them not to start a serious interrogation. Accompanied by their Elderdeath weapons.
Doctor-Cavan-a picked up the box and moved it to the worktable. Prr't-zevisti watched her, wincing with the always unpleasant anticipation of the unknown. He'd never felt a real Elderdeath weapon, but the histories were very clear about the catastrophic effects their use had had on Zhirrzh culture. The first—and last—Elderdeath weapons had been created by the Svrr family of the Flii'rr clan at the height of the Second Eldership War eight hundred cyclics ago. All sides of the war had called on the Svrr to halt their use of the weapons, which had only a minor dizzying effect on warriors but which could be lethal to Elders and children. But the Svrr had refused. Ultimately, when the war was over, that refusal had cost the family its existence.
The Zhirrzh had never used the weapons again. But every alien race they came upon had done so: deliberately, viciously, and without a twinge of conscience. Every race, from the Chig to the Isintorxi and now to the Humans.
A twinge make him jerk. Doctor-Cavan-a, taking yet another sample from his fsss cutting. But that would end soon enough. Eventually, he knew, she would get tired of these preliminaries.
And then the real interrogation would begin. Prr't-zevisti could only hope he would find death before he betrayed his people.
They'd all made it down to the ten-stride height Thrr-mezaz had specified without the Human-Conquerors making any move. And it was time for the Zhirrzh to make theirs.
"All right," Thrr-mezaz said, glancing down at the tree- and rock-littered terrain below them. "Here we go. Vstii-suuv, you'll go first, pulling Qlaa-nuur and me down along behind you. If the Human-Conquerors think the fall was accidental, it might gain us a few extra beats. Take it whenever you're ready, and try not to hit us too hard on your way down."
"Right," Vstii-suuv said. "Here goes."
There was a sudden flurry above him, a brief shower of broken stone; and then Vstii-suuv shot past, one foot caroming off Thrr-mezaz's left shoulder along the way. The rope snapped tight at Thrr-mezaz's harness, yanking him away from the cliff face. He managed to miss Qlaa-nuur as he fell—bounced painfully against the cliff with the same sore shoulder—twisted half over as he clawed at the rock to try to get himself vertical—
And then one foot hit the ground, and he was fighting a losing battle for balance. He dropped to one knee, falling over on his side and rolling awkwardly back again to his knees. "Report," he snapped, fumbling for the rope and release rings with one hand as he unslung his laser rifle with the other.
"I'm all right, Commander," Vstii-suuv said, breathing heavily. "Just a little winded."
"Same here," Qlaa-nuur said. "Those friction grabs work better than I thought."
"Good," Thrr-mezaz said, getting up into a crouch and looking around. Still no ground warriors in sight, though in a wooded area like this that didn't mean much. Now, if the Zhirrzh could just get in the first shot against the Human-Conqueror aircraft before it swooped around the trees for a clear shot and shredded all three of them. He looked up into the sky—
To find that the aircraft hadn't moved.
Thrr-mezaz frowned up at it. It was still right there, bits of it visible through the trees. Still hovering in the same spot. Not making any attempt at all to attack.
"Commander?" Vstii-suuv hissed urgently. "Shall we take it down?"
Thrr-mezaz looked around them again. No ground warriors; no further air support that he could see; the one aircraft on the scene inexplicably not moving to attack position. It was as if—
As if the Human-Conqueror commander was letting them go.
He took a deep breath. "Hold your fire," he told the two warriors. "Keep your weapons ready, but I don't think we're going to need them. They're letting us go."
"Letting us go?" Qlaa-nuur echoed, looking around. "I don't believe it."
"No, they just haven't reacted yet," Vstii-suuv agreed tightly. "This is our one chance, Commander. I strongly recommend we take it."
Thrr-mezaz looked back up at the aircraft, an eerie feeling pricking at the base of his tongue. The Human-Conqueror commander was letting them go. Just as he himself had allowed that Human-Conqueror ground-warrior team to escape four fullarcs ago north of the village.
"Hold your fire," he told the others. "That's an order." He took one last look around and started down the steep slope. "Come on, let's get back to the transport."
They didn't believe him, of course. Neither of them did. Not until they were airborne again with no sign of pursuit.
Vstii-suuv was the first to put it into words. "I don't believe it," he said, staring out the back of the transport at the Human-Conqueror aircraft, still on guard, fading into the distance behind them. "They let us go. Why in the eighteen worlds would they do a thing like that?"
"Maybe as a payback for our not slaughtering their ground warriors when we had the chance," Thrr-mezaz suggested.
"With all due respect, Commander, that's highly dangerous thinking," Qlaa-nuur growled. "These aren't civilized beings we're talking about here. They're vicious barbarian killers. Ascribing Zhirrzh-like characteristics to them will do nothing but tempt us into blocked-street thinking."
"Perhaps," Thrr-mezaz said. "Perhaps not. They have a highly advanced technology; they must have a certain degree of civilization to go along with it. And if appreciation toward an enemy is beyond them, then perhaps their commander let us go for the same reason I let his warriors go: because he wants to find out what we were doing out there. Maybe that will also induce him to let us get back inside his territory. Assuming, of course, that we're able to get a new cutting from Warrior Command."
"Or from the Dhaa'rr," Vstii-suuv murmured, his voice thoughtful.
Thrr-mezaz looked at him, frowning in mild surprise. Vstii-suuv had been decidedly hostile about the whole Prr't-zevisti cutting idea back on the climb. Yet he'd now brought the subject up on his own. And not as a prelude to an argument, either, from the tone.
And then he understood. "You saw it," he said. "Didn't you?"
"I think so," Vstii-suuv admitted. "You did, too?"
"About the same as you," Thrr-mezaz nodded. "I saw something. I'm not sure what."
"What are you talking about?" Qlaa-nuur asked. "What did you see?"
"Maybe nothing," Vstii-suuv said hesitantly. "Maybe—well, maybe Prr't-zevisti."
Qlaa-nuur looked back and forth between the two of them. "Are you sure?"
"No, we're not sure at all," Thrr-mezaz told him. "Which is why I don't want either of you telling anyone else about this. Most won't believe us; the rest will assume we're spinning the story for political reasons."
"We are going to do something, though, aren't we?" Vstii-suuv asked.
"Oh, you can bet on that," Thrr-mezaz assured him. "One way or the other, we're going to get back up there and find out what's going on."
Vstii-suuv straightened a little. "We'll be ready whenever you want us, Commander," he said, his voice brisk and professional. "You can count on us."
And he could, Thrr-mezaz realized. He really could. The reluctant warriors who'd flown up there with him—the even more reluctant and distrustful climbing companions who'd hurried down the mountain behind him under the hostile eyes of the Human-Conquerors—those two were gone. With even a hint of a possibility that Prr't-zevisti might still be alive, they had suddenly turned instead into staunch allies.
But then, the Aree'rr clan had always had a long and proud warrior tradition. And Prr't-zevisti had once been a warrior.
Whether that tradition and their newfound enthusiasm would survive another trip into the heart of enemy territory was something else again. Thrr-mezaz would just have to hope the Dhaa'rr leaders would give them all an opportunity to find out.
There were two Zhirrzh standing there when Thrr-pifix-a answered her door: young males, dressed in conservative outfits, smiling cordially yet with a serious undertone to their expressions. As near as she could remember, she'd never seen either of them before. "Yes?" she said.
"Good postmidarc to you," the taller, slightly older of the two said. His voice matched his smile: friendly, yet serious. "We're looking for a lady named Thrr-pifix-a; Kee'rr."
"I'm she," Thrr-pifix-a said. Door-doors, probably, here to try to sell her something she didn't need at a price she couldn't afford. But that was all right. She'd already finished her garden work for this fullarc, and she always enjoyed the mental challenge of a good argument over someone's sales spiel. "And you?"
"Call me Korthe," he invited. "This is Dornt, my associate. May we come in?"
Thrr-pifix-a looked at them, the first twinges of uneasiness tugging at her. First names only, with no indication of family or even clan. Certainly not door-doors, then. Certainly not casual visitors of any sort. "I'm really rather busy—"
"It's all right," the younger Zhirrzh, Dornt, assured her. "Really. We're here to help you with your problem."
"What problem is that?"
"We'd prefer to discuss it indoors," Korthe said. "May we come in?"
Thrr-pifix-a took a careful breath. They could be robbers or undesirables of any sort; and if so, she would be foolish to let them past her doorway. But on the other side, considering her age and her isolation out here, robbers would hardly need to ask her permission to get inside. More likely, they were just some sort of religious cultists. "All right," she said, stepping aside. "The conversation room is straight ahead."
They all went in and sat down on the couches. "Now," Thrr-pifix-a said, looking between them. "What's all this about?"
"Another hunbeat, please," Dornt said, fiddling with a small device he'd pulled from a waist pouch. "We want to make sure this conversation is private. There."
Thrr-pifix-a frowned, straining to hear. There was a new sound in the room, one that her failing ear slits could just barely pick up. A sort of high-pitched humming sound.
"Excellent," Korthe said, his earlier smile completely submerged in seriousness now. "We know you're busy, Thrr-pifix-a, so with your permission we'll get directly to business. Have you ever heard of an organization called Freedom of Decision for All?"
She'd called it, all right: religious cultists. "No, I don't believe I have."
"I'm not really surprised," Korthe said. "We're still fairly new to this area of Oaccanv. And certainly the various clan and family leaders who do know about us are working hard to keep us quiet. Very simply, FoDfA is composed of people who, just like you, believe strongly that each and every Zhirrzh should have the right to choose whether or not to accept Eldership."
Thrr-pifix-a frowned at him. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"
"You heard correctly," Korthe said. "We believe Eldership should be your own personal choice. No one else's."
Thrr-pifix-a took a deep breath, a rush of surprise and an odd sense of relief flooding through her. So she wasn't alone in this. Thrr-tulkoj had been right: there were indeed others who believed the same way she did. "You don't know how it feels to hear you say that," she said quietly. "I thought I was the only one."
"Hardly," Korthe said with a faint smile. "Our organization consists of over two million Zhirrzh."
Thrr-pifix-a felt her midlight pupils narrow in surprise. "Two million?"
"Two million," he confirmed. "And that doesn't count those sympathetic to our philosophy who for one reason or another don't want to join. Rest assured, Thrr-pifix-a; you have plenty of company out there."
"How else do you think we knew about you?" Korthe shrugged. "We have information sources all over the eighteen worlds."
"And," Dornt added quietly, "we stand ready to assist you in putting your choice into action."
"That's very kind of you," Thrr-pifix-a said. "And I'd certainly appreciate any help you can give me. I've tried talking to the family leaders, but the clan leaders have so far refused even to grant me a hearing—"
"Excuse me, Thrr-pifix-a," Korthe interrupted gently. "But I don't think you quite understand. Our group doesn't focus on advocacy or negotiation. We concentrate on, shall we say, more direct methods."
Thrr-pifix-a frowned, looking back and forth between them. "What do you mean?"
"You seem a straightforward person," Korthe said. "Allow me to be equally so. What we propose to do is retrieve your fsss organ from your family shrine and deliver it here to you. Where you may do with it whatever you choose."
For a long beat Thrr-pifix-a stared at him, replaying that sentence over and over again in her mind. "You're not serious," she said at last. "You mean... steal my fsss organ?"
"Why not?" Dornt shrugged. "You tried to do the same thing just three fullarcs ago, didn't you?"
"Yes, but that was me," Thrr-pifix-a said. "My risk, for my gain. I can't ask you to commit such a crime for me."
"You don't have to ask," Dornt said. "We're volunteering."
"Besides, you prejudice yourself when you use the word steal," Korthe added. "In actual fact your fsss was stolen from you, back when you were ten. It doesn't belong to the Kee'rr clan or the Thrr family. It belongs to you."
Thrr-pifix-a felt her tail twitching nervously. The same argument—many of the same words, in fact—that she'd used in trying to persuade Thrr-gilag to her point of view a few fullarcs ago. But to hear it being argued in her own home by total strangers was more than a little disconcerting. "What about the risks?" she asked. "I'm sorry to keep coming back to this, but you're talking about committing a major crime here. And for no gain for yourselves."
"On the contrary," Korthe said. "We stand to gain a great deal: an incredible measure of freedom for all Zhirrzh. The family and clan leaders know perfectly well what they're doing—why else would they have such heavy guard around the shrines? It's the common people who don't know or don't understand what's been done to them. Every time we of FoDfA take action like this, we're injecting another tiny bit of awareness into Zhirrzh culture. Eventually, we'll prevail... and then we all win."
Thrr-pifix-a nodded slowly. It still felt odd. All of it did. But they were here, and they were offering their help.
And it was for certain that she would never be able to do it on her own. "How would you go about it?" she asked. "How exactly, I mean."
"That's nothing you need to worry about," Dornt soothed her. "We'll handle all the details."
"No, that's not what I meant," Thrr-pifix-a said, flicking her tongue in a negative. "I meant would you have to hurt anyone to do it. Because I wouldn't be able to accept that. The chief protector at our shrine, Thrr-tulkoj, is a personal friend of my son's—"
"Now, what did Dornt just say?" Korthe said, his tone mildly reproving. "Didn't he say you didn't need to worry about such things?"
"I'll worry about whatever I choose to worry about, thank you," Thrr-pifix-a snapped. "And unless you can promise me right now that there'll be no danger to the shrine's protectors, you can just pack up and leave."
"Please," Korthe said, holding up a hand. "Thrr-pifix-a; please. We understand your concerns, but you protest far more than necessary. Of course we'll guarantee that no one will be hurt. Our whole philosophy of respect for the rights and dignity of individual Zhirrzh would be meaningless if we didn't."
"If you're assured of nothing else this postmidarc, be assured of that," Dornt added earnestly. "When we bring your fsss to you, it will not be at any cost to anyone else."
"I'll hold you to that," Thrr-pifix-a warned.
"Of course," Korthe said. "Then it's decided."
And suddenly Thrr-pifix-a realized that it was. Somehow, without her making a real conscious decision, it was indeed decided. "All right," she said, hearing the defiance of uncertainty in her voice. "Yes. It's decided. When?"
"Next latearc," Korthe said, gesturing to Dornt and standing up. "We can let ourselves out."
"Wait a beat," Thrr-pifix-a frowned as Dornt also stood. "Next latearc? As in just over a fullarc from right now?"
"I see no advantage in waiting," Korthe said. "Do you?"
"Well... no. No, I suppose not," Thrr-pifix-a conceded reluctantly. "It just seems so sudden."
"Suddenness is a great ally," Dornt said. "Especially against the sluggishness of a layered leadership structure."
"But I was just caught trying to take it myself," Thrr-pifix-a pointed out. "Won't they be expecting me to try again?"
"They might be expecting you," Dornt said, smiling faintly. "They certainly won't be expecting us."
Thrr-pifix-a swallowed. "And no one will be hurt?"
"There will be no need for violence of any sort," Dornt said quietly. "Trust us on that. We have many methods, and many contacts."
"It'll be all right, Thrr-pifix-a," Korthe added. "Really it will. Please try not to worry. We'll be back before you know it."
His face turned serious. "And then your future will be in your hands, and in your hands alone. As it should be."
They left... and for a long time after the door closed behind them, Thrr-pifix-a just sat there in her small conversation room. Wondering if her decision, so quickly and strangely made, had been the right one.
And wondering, too, at the sudden uneasiness simmering inside her.
The end of the wave front disappeared behind the massive sea rock that sat fifty strides out into the ocean, its base lapped by the white-tinged blue-green water. For a beat nothing happened; then, abruptly, the edge of the rock seemed to explode into a burst of white froth as the wave smashed into it. The wind caught the froth, curving it partway around the rock, changing grayish stone to black where it hit. The froth itself turned into a fan of rivulets and tiny impromptu waterfalls as the water ran down the rock and returned to the sea.
Thrr-gilag took a deep breath, savoring the sharp-salty air as he gazed past the sea rock and tried to guess which of those incoming lines of white-capped wave fronts would be the next spectacular splash. And tried not to think of what might be happening, without him, back there in the Klnn family hall.
"Composing poetry?" a familiar voice called from behind him.
Thrr-gilag turned. Dressed in full formal Klnn family attire, Klnn-dawan-a's brother Klnn-torun was making his careful and precise way across the last few strides of rock-strewn beach that separated them. "What makes you think I'd be composing poetry?" Thrr-gilag called back over the roar of the waves.
"I thought you were the sort of person who might do that sort of thing," Klnn-torun said. "Especially standing here looking out at the ocean."
"Typical Klnn smugness," Thrr-gilag said. "What makes you think the hills and streams of the Thrr family territory can't compare with this puny ocean of yours?"
Klnn-torun frowned slightly. "Can they?"
Thrr-gilag smiled, flicking his tongue in a negative. "Not a chance."
"Ah." Klnn-torun's face cleared. "I didn't think so. You had me worried, though."
Thrr-gilag looked back at the sea rock, just in time to catch a minor wave splash at its edge. "How about you?" he asked. "You ever write poetry about the ocean?"
"Not really," Klnn-torun said. "I tried a few times, back when I was younger. But I could never come up with anything that sounded any good. I guess my mind just doesn't work that way."
Thrr-gilag shrugged. "To tell you the truth, neither does mine."
"Oh, come on." Klnn-torun frowned. "What about those three poems you wrote for Klnn-dawan-a right after you two met?"
Thrr-gilag eyed him suspiciously. "She didn't let you see those, did she?"
"Oh, no, she just read me some of the highlights," Klnn-torun assured him. "Really, I thought they were very good. Smooth and quite poetic."
"I'm glad I fooled you," Thrr-gilag said, snorting gently. "Truth is, I sweated blood over those things and still never really got them the way I wanted. I'm just glad they caught her attention before I had to write too many more of them. I'm still half-convinced she started seeing me out of sheer pity."
"Hardly," Klnn-torun said with a faint smile. "No, she was most impressed by them. And by you, too, of course."
"Not half as impressed as I was of her," Thrr-gilag murmured, looking over his shoulder. The Klnn family meeting hall towered back there behind him, its rock-faced walls blending almost seamlessly with the bluff on which it had been built. Klnn-dawan-a was up there right now, standing before the family and clan leaders. Trying to win them over the way she had won over her brother and parents.
And trying to do so all alone. They hadn't allowed Thrr-gilag in; nor had they allowed Klnn-torun or her parents or any of her closest friends to stand with her. There was nothing any of them could do but sit in the waiting gallery or wander around outside, wondering what was happening in the chambers and waiting for the family leaders to summon them back in. The whole stupid, outdated single-trial procedure—
"I heard about your father's being raised to Eldership half a cyclic ago," Klnn-torun said. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to attend his welcoming ceremony. We were right in the middle of a sudden influx of shahbba beetles, and we needed everyone we had to drive them off."
"That's all right," Thrr-gilag said, feeling a fresh twist of old guilt. "As it happens, I didn't make it, either. I was out on an archaeology dig when it happened, and with our extremely limited transportation arrangements I just wasn't able to get back."
"Yes, Klnn-dawan-a once missed an uncle's ceremony the same way," Klnn-torun said. "How's Thrr't-rokik adapting to life as an Elder?"
"Reasonably well, I think," Thrr-gilag said. He nodded toward the ocean. "Though his biggest goal these fullarcs seems to be to try to get a shrine set up near the Amt'bri River so that he can hear running water. Imagine what he'd want if he saw this."
"I don't have to imagine," Klnn-torun said grimly. "The Dhaa'rr leaders are already up to their tongues in demands to allow cutting pyramids along the seashore."
"Really," Thrr-gilag said, looking around. Aside from the Klnn family hall, there were only a handful of other buildings visible. "I guess I'm surprised it isn't a solid wall of shrines already."
"Actually, you'd never get shrines themselves put up here," Klnn-torun told him. "Salt air has always been considered too dangerous to fsss organs for anyone to risk putting an actual shrine near the shore."
"Ah," Thrr-gilag said, nodding his understanding. "But that's not such a problem when all you're dealing with is cuttings."
"Right," Klnn-torun said. "And the more this cutting idea has caught on, the louder the demands have become."
Thrr-gilag looked back at the ocean. "Well, at least here on Dharanv you have a whole planet's worth of territory to spread out over. Those of us whose clan centers are still crammed together on Oaccanv don't have that same advantage."
"Maybe," Klnn-torun said. "But even here it's not as easy as you might think. All the most popular and spectacular sites are already owned, either by families or individuals. Many of the spots have been extensively developed."
"And none of the owners want bored Elders hanging around looking over their shoulders."
"You got it." Klnn-torun stroked pensively at the side of his face. "You know, Thrr-gilag, to be perfectly honest, I'm beginning to worry about all this. Starting to wonder if things may be getting out of hand."
"How so?"
"Well..." Klnn-torun hesitated. "Have you ever studied Zhirrzh history? Really studied it, I mean?"
Thrr-gilag shrugged. "I had the usual courses, plus a few," he said. "Nothing extensive."
"I studied it quite a bit," Klnn-torun said. "Especially the Eldership wars."
"Really." Thrr-gilag eyed him. "I wouldn't have thought of you as the warfare-studying type."
Klnn-torun shrugged. "Just because I try to avoid conflict in my own dealings doesn't mean I shouldn't be interested in reading about it. In fact, I'd venture to say that a desire to avoid conflict would give a Zhirrzh an extra incentive to learn about its causes."
"And logically so," Thrr-gilag agreed. "So what cause of conflict from history are we talking about here?"
Klnn-torun looked back up at the Klnn-family hall. "Are you aware that it was exactly this same competition between Elders and physicals for territory that sparked the Third Eldership War?"
Thrr-gilag frowned, thinking back to his own history courses. "Well... it wasn't exactly the same situation. For one thing, we were all stuck on Oaccanv back then. Now we've got seventeen other worlds to spread out on."
"Which I presume is the main reason it's taken us five hundred cyclics to reach this point again instead of the three hundred we got between the Second and Third Wars," Klnn-torun pointed out. "But there's another factor now that's been added into the mix. Back then people were much more used to having Elders around them all the time, their presence woven into the fabric of their lives. Now, suddenly, our culture seems to be obsessed with privacy and solitude—obsessed to the point of hostility, sometimes. We don't want anyone too close to us; we especially don't want Elders close to us. There's increasing pressure to put shrines and cutting pyramids way out somewhere where they can't reach cities or even major towns. At least on Dharanv the areas that are inaccessible to Elders are being developed at a tremendous rate. It doesn't make any sense."
"Actually, it does," Thrr-gilag said thoughtfully. "What you're seeing here is an underlying cultural shift. Five hundred cyclics ago people generally stayed their whole lives in one spot, with the only Elders around being those from their own family. Familiar, friendly, comfortable. Now, with all this cross-territory and interstellar mobility we've picked up over the past hundred cyclics or so, you can never know who's nearby or who might be watching over your shoulder. That makes people nervous. People who are nervous long enough often start getting hostile and resentful."
"You're right," Klnn-torun said thoughtfully. "I hadn't thought about that."
"Well, I've had a little more training in all this cultural stuff," Thrr-gilag told him. "Plus the fact that I live that way myself more than you do. Living and working with your family's old orchards, you're much more connected to the way Zhirrzh culture used to be."
"Yes, I see that," Klnn-torun said. "Oh, and that's another factor: with all these new cutting pyramids the Elders themselves are also less connected to the family lands than they used to be." He frowned. "Actually, that might make my point even more valid."
"That point being?" Thrr-gilag asked.
Klnn-torun's tail twitched. "That it seems to me the Elders have a great deal to gain from a war of conquest against the Human-Conquerors."
Thrr-gilag stared at him, the magnificent ocean scenery abruptly forgotten. "What do you mean?"
"Well, think about it," Klnn-torun said. "Every planet we're able to take from the Human-Conquerors is one more world the Elders have to expand into. More variety, more scenery—more room in general."
"You aren't seriously suggesting anyone would start a war over scenery, are you?"
"No, of course not," Klnn-torun said. "At least, not specifically for scenery. But we're talking territory, and that's always been one of the big driving forces behind conflict. And don't forget, what Elders want even more than scenic places to live is something to do. Every new world opens up that many more jobs for them, from communication pathways on up."
Thrr-gilag looked back up at the Klnn family hall behind them, thinking about the world he and Klnn-dawan-a had just come from. When the Zhirrzh and Chig had run into each other two hundred cyclics ago, the Chig had had colonies in two other star systems and had begun the exploration of two others. The subsequent war had pushed them back to their home world of Gree, guarded ever since then by Zhirrzh encirclement forces.
And their other four colonies were now part of the eighteen worlds. With thousands of Zhirrzh, and dozens of cutting pyramids scattered across them.
"I know it sounds unbelievable," Klnn-torun said into his thoughts.
"Well, yes, it does," Thrr-gilag said. "For one thing, you have to assume a massive conspiracy to make it work, with virtually every Elder in on it. You have to admit that's pretty unlikely."
"Under normal circumstances, certainly," Klnn-torun said. "We all know how fast information and rumors percolate through the Elder community. But there are times when a particular bit of information is controlled by a bare handful of Elders. Klnn-dwan-a's study group on Gree is a good example. She told me that despite the fact that your father had already heard about the threat to your bond-engagement, her own Elders hadn't said a word to her about it. You had to fly out personally and tell her."
Thrr-gilag looked out at the ocean, his suddenly contracted pupils not really seeing any of it. The whole philosophical basis of this war was that the Humans were an aggressive conqueror race who had deliberately and ruthlessly fired on four peaceful Zhirrzh survey ships with Elderdeath weapons. And the sole source of that assertion was the statements of the eight Elder communicators who'd been aboard those survey ships.
Thrr-gilag had heard their statement firsthand from Bvee't-hibbin back on Oaccanv. He'd assumed then that the Elder could have no possible reason to lie about it.
But what if Klnn-torun was right? What if Bvee't-hibbin had had a reason to lie? What if the Human prisoner Pheylan Cavanagh had been telling the truth about that battle?
What if the Zhirrzh had in fact started this war?
"You're very quiet," Klnn-torun prompted.
Slowly, Thrr-gilag forced his mind back on track. Was Klnn-torun thinking along these same lines? Probably. An orchard-tender wasn't exactly a prestigious profession, but Klnn-torun was considerably smarter than the usual stereotypes would suggest. Should Thrr-gilag tell him about that conversation with Bvee't-hibbin? And perhaps also about Pheylan Cavanagh's claims?
But neither of them had any proof of all this... and there were Elders up there at the Klnn family hall who could easily be listening in on this conversation. "It's an interesting speculation," he said instead. "And I'll certainly concede that there are probably Elders here and there who slant things or even some who tell outright lies. But I'm afraid I can't buy any suggestion that there's a conspiracy of Elders out there. Even a small conspiracy."
"I see." For a long beat Klnn-torun seemed to be studying his face. Then, with deliberate casualness, he turned back to look at the ocean. "Well, you're the expert on cultures, I suppose. You'd know best."
"Um," Thrr-gilag said noncommittally, looking at the ocean himself and wishing like blazes he knew what Klnn-torun was thinking right now. Was he taking what Thrr-gilag had just said at face value? Or was he simply playing along with what he perceived to be a subtle, between-the-lines concurrence with his conspiracy theory?
An Elder appeared. "Klnn-torun?" he called, his voice faint over the noise of the waves. "You are summoned to the hall."
"I understand," Klnn-torun said. "What about Thrr-gilag?"
A faint flicker of disgust crossed the Elder's face. "He can come, too," he said grudgingly. "But be quick about it, both of you. They're waiting."
He vanished. "Don't let him rattle you," Klnn-torun advised Thrr-gilag as the two of them started back across the rocky beach. "If they've just called us, they can hardly have been waiting very long."
"Yes," Thrr-gilag said, his tail spinning hard even in the cool sea air. This was it. The judgment of the family and Dhaa'rr clan leaders on him and Klnn-dawan-a.
"Thrr-gilag; Kee'rr?" a voice murmured in his ear.
Thrr-gilag turned, leaning his head to the side to try to focus on the Elder hugging close at his side. A female, no one he recognized. "Yes?"
"Shh!" she said urgently before vanishing.
"What was that?" Klnn-torun asked, turning to look at him.
"Ah—nothing," Thrr-gilag said, frowning to himself as he glanced around. Clearly, that Elder wanted to talk to him, and to him alone. Something having to do with Klnn-dawan-a? "Look, why don't you go on ahead," he told Klnn-torun. "I'll catch up in a hunbeat."
Klnn-torun looked puzzled, but he nodded. "All right," he said. "Don't be long."
He headed off, hunching forward a little as he labored uphill through the sand. Thrr-gilag glanced around, then stepped over into the lee side of a sea-grass-coated boulder and waited.
He didn't have to wait long. A few beats later the Elder was back. "I'm sorry for this," she said, her face a mirror of rapidly shifting emotions. "Really, I am. Actually, I shouldn't even be talking to you—I mean, you're not even Dhaa'rr, and—"
"It's all right," Thrr-gilag interrupted soothingly. "Besides, anything that concerns Klnn-dawan-a is something I have a right to know about."
The Elder blinked in surprise. "Klnn-dawan-a? This isn't about Klnn-dawan-a. It's about Prr't-zevisti."
Thrr-gilag drew back a little toward his boulder. "I see," he said carefully.
"No, you don't," the Elder said, her face and voice flashing sudden anger and frustration. "You don't understand at all. Or maybe you don't even care that they're going to take away his last chance. His very last chance. Don't you care about that?"
"Hold it," Thrr-gilag protested, holding up a hand. "Just wait a beat, please. I'm afraid you've lost me. Who are you, and who's trying to take away whose last chance?"
The Elder closed her eyes briefly. "My name is Prr't-casst-a. I'm Prr't-zevisti's wife. The one who was lost on the Human-Conqueror world of Dorcas."
"Yes, I know who he was," Thrr-gilag said with a quiet sigh. So Prr't-zevisti's wife was here. Probably one of those sitting in judgment on him and Klnn-dawan-a. Terrific.
"Not was, "she snapped, her face flashing the anger and frustration again. "Not was. Is! He's not dead, Thrr-gilag. I know he isn't. He can't be."
Thrr-gilag winced. "Look, Prr't-casst-a, I know how you feel. But—"
"Just be quiet," she cut him off. "Be quiet, and listen to me. The Dhaa'rr leaders have decided to call final rites for Prr't-zevisti three fullarcs from now. Including the ceremony of fire."
A shiver ran through Thrr-gilag. The ceremony of fire: the ritual of destruction of a dead Elder's fsss organ. It didn't happen all that often anymore, but when it did, it was always traumatic for those involved. The final act of farewell to one who would never be seen again...
He frowned suddenly, the timing here belatedly catching up with him. "Wait a hunbeat. Final rites already? It's been only, what, ten fullarcs or so?"
"Twelve," Prr't-casst-a said. "That's all. Just twelve fullarcs since he's been seen."
"That doesn't seem nearly long enough," Thrr-gilag said. "Certainly not to make a final declaration of death. What reason are the clan leaders giving for it?"
Prr't-casst-a waved a hand helplessly. "They invoked some ancient law of the Dhaa'rr. Something obscure that laid out fifteen fullarcs without contact as being the proper waiting period."
"Doesn't seem long enough," Thrr-gilag said again, trying to remember if he'd ever heard of the Kee'rr having anything similar in their legal structure. But he couldn't. "Must be really ancient, though. Before preservation methods were even halfway reliable."
"That's exactly right," Prr't-casst-a agreed. "I asked one of my family to look it up. He couldn't find it in any legal documents created since the time the Dhaa'rr moved off Oaccanv onto Dharanv."
Which made the law at least 350 cyclics old. Hardly the sort of law invoked twice a fullarc as a matter of course. "So why are they doing it?"
"I don't know," Prr't-casst-a said, a look of pain and helplessness settling onto her face. "They won't tell me anything. The servers just repeat the law to me, and say that the ancient traditions of the Dhaa'rr must be maintained. The clan leaders won't talk to me at all."
"There's probably more than just tradition at work here, then," Thrr-gilag said grimly. "Sounds to me like something political."
"I think you're right," Prr't-casst-a said. "That's why I came to you. You're not of Dhaa'rr politics. And yet you must care about the Dhaa'rr—otherwise, why would you bond with a Dhaa'rr? But I don't have much time. Prr't-zevisti doesn't have much time. Can you do anything to help us?"
Thrr-gilag looked at her agitated face, feeling a wave of understanding for this part of his mother's fear of Eldership. To be alive and aware, yet so fundamentally powerless.
But Thrr-gilag was hardly in a position to do anything himself.
But how could he just refuse her?
"I'll try," he sighed. "I'll do whatever—well, I'll try."
"Thank you," Prr't-casst-a breathed. Already she seemed calmer. "What will you do first?"
"First thing we need is a better idea of what's really going on," Thrr-gilag told her, glancing across the beach. Klnn-torun was nearly to the first line of scrub plants, dotting the sand a few strides beyond the high-water mark. "I've got an idea, but right now I have to get to the meeting hall and hear what the Klnn and Dhaa'rr leaders have decided to do about Klnn-dawan-a and me. Do you have a cutting nearby?"
"No, my family shrine is near a town thirty thoustrides inland from here."
"All right," Thrr-gilag said. "Let's set it up this way. Half a tentharc after the hearing is over, we'll meet back here on the beach."
"There's a small cave over in that headland," Prr't-casst-a suggested, pointing to a rocky finger of land jutting out into the waves a couple hundred strides down the beach. "It would give you a little shelter, at least."
"Sounds good," Thrr-gilag agreed. "We'll meet at the cave. Now, the next part's up to you. Between now and then, you'll need to find me a secure pathway to my brother. Commander Thrr-mezaz, commanding the ground warriors on Dorcas."
"I can do that," Prr't-casst-a said. "Yes, I can do that."
"And I mean really secure," Thrr-gilag warned. "The fewer Elders who are in on this conversation, the better. And they all have to be good friends of yours, who can be trusted not to let anything we say slip out to anyone else. If the Dhaa'rr leaders get wind that you're talking to me about this, it'll be the end of any chance for Klnn-dawan-a and me."
"Oh," Prr't-casst-a said, suddenly looking stricken. "I hadn't even thought about that. I'm sorry. I—I don't—"
"It's all right," Thrr-gilag soothed her. "Just be sure the pathway is secure."
"It will be," Prr't-casst-a said. "I promise on my life. It will be. I... thank you, Thrr-gilag."
She vanished. "You're welcome," Thrr-gilag murmured to the ocean breezes. Already he didn't like the feel of this whole thing, and particularly not the assumption that he was going to get involved any deeper in it.
But it wouldn't hurt to discuss the situation with Thrr-mezaz. He might have some information, maybe even some ideas.
In the meantime, one crisis at a time. Bracing himself, he headed across the beach toward the Klnn-family hall.
Prr't-casst-a had described their rendezvous point as a cave. To Thrr-gilag's mind it was much less a cave than it was a small carved indentation in the rock facing the ocean. It was also damp, noisy, and smelled of rotting sea grass.
But the waves that continually lapped at the opening would help insure that no one disturbed their conversation, while the noise of those same waves would pretty well guarantee that no Elders would be able to eavesdrop unnoticed.
Prr't-casst-a was already waiting when Thrr-gilag and Klnn-dawan-a arrived. So was her pathway.
So, to Thrr-gilag's surprise, was Thrr-mezaz. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting, my brother," Thrr-gilag said after they'd exchanged greetings. "I wasn't intending the pathway to be opened until I got here."
He nodded to Prr't-casst-a. "Go ahead," he prompted.
"Oh. Yes," she said, and vanished.
"I doubt she's ever done either end of a communication before," Klnn-dawan-a commented, looking around the cave.
"She'll pick it up," Thrr-gilag assured her. "I'm more worried about the security of this pathway of hers." He looked around the cave, too. "Or that one of the leaders up there will get curious and send an Elder down to investigate."
"I doubt anyone will be bothering with us right now," Klnn-dawan-a said. "The way they were talking—"
Prr't-casst-a reappeared. " 'No problem, my brother,' " she quoted. " 'It's latearc here, and I wasn't doing anything constructive anyway. Just trying to figure out what your Human-Conquerors might be up to.' " Prr't-casst-a frowned in concentration. "Just a beat... oh, right. 'But first things first. What happened with you and Klnn-dawan-a and the hearing?' "
"A thorough anticlimax," Thrr-gilag said. "They gave Klnn-dawan-a the full spectrum of questions, threw about a half spectrum at me, and then said they'd think about it for a few more fullarcs."
Prr't-casst-a nodded and vanished. "I didn't get a chance to ask you if you were able to read anything from them," Thrr-gilag commented to Klnn-dawan-a.
"Nothing I'm sure of," she said. "I get the feeling that the Klnn leaders themselves have no real problems with our bonding, but that they feel they have to submit to the wishes of the Dhaa'rr leaders."
"Interesting," Thrr-gilag said. "I got the impression that both the Klnn and Dhaa'rr leaders were instead being pushed by their Elders."
There was a flicker, and Prr't-casst-a was back. " 'Well, I suppose it's better than a straight-out no,' " she said. " 'Now. What's all this about?' "
"We have a problem here," Thrr-gilag said. "I've learned that the Dhaa'rr leaders are planning final rites for Prr't-zevisti, including the ceremony of fire. I suppose my question is whether you've found conclusive proof out there that he is in fact dead."
Prr't-casst-a's face was pinched with quiet agony, but she vanished without a word. "You think that's what's happened?" Klnn-dawan-a asked.
"It's either that or something political," Thrr-gilag said. "I haven't been able to come up with any other options."
Klnn-dawan-a shivered, hugging herself against the cold and damp. "It's frightening to think about people playing politics with other people's lives."
Thrr-gilag pressed his tongue hard against the top of his mouth, his thoughts flicking back to his conversation with Klnn-torun. "Yes," he murmured. "It is."
Prr't-casst-a reappeared... and even before she began to speak, Thrr-gilag knew something had happened. The fear that had been on her face when she left had been replaced by something hard and cold. " 'The situation out here has changed, all right,' " she said. " 'But it has nothing to do with any evidence of death. What's happened is that I've petitioned the Prr family to send me a second cutting from Prr't-zevisti's fsss organ.' "
Thrr-gilag threw a startled look at Klnn-dawan-a. "A second cutting? What for?"
"Wait a beat, there's more," Prr't-casst-a said. "Mm—'It occurred to me that if Prr't-zevisti was trapped somehow up in the Human-Conqueror stronghold, then our best chance of getting him out would be to move another cutting into range nearby.' "
"That's going to be a little tricky, isn't it?" Thrr-gilag asked. "Hauling a pyramid up a mountain isn't exactly easy."
Prr't-casst-a vanished. When she returned, there was yet another new expression on her face. " 'Actually, I had something else in mind,' " she quoted, her voice tight but firm. " 'I was thinking—and you and Prr't-casst-a would need to talk about this—that instead of using a pyramid we could perhaps just put the cutting in a small airtight and predator-proof container.' "
Klnn-dawan-a muttered something under her breath. Thrr-gilag frowned at Prr't-casst-a, trying without success to read her expression. "What do you think, Prr't-casst-a?" he asked.
"It's a terrible idea," she said, her voice trembling. "Completely and utterly disrespectful. A violation of everything civilized that the Dhaa'rr and the Prr have ever stood for." She seemed to brace herself. "But if it's the only way to get Prr't-zevisti back... then, yes, let's do it."
Thrr-gilag looked at Klnn-dawan-a. "Don't look at me," she said, holding up her hands. "It's not my decision to make."
He nodded and turned back to Prr't-casst-a. "All right, my brother, we're agreed on this end," he said. "Assuming you can get the Prr family to get you that cutting."
"But what if he can't?" Prr't-casst-a protested. "The Dhaa'rr leaders only have to wait three more fullarcs. After that they're going to destroy his fsss."
Thrr-gilag grimaced. Three fullarcs from now. The same time he and the alien study group were scheduled to leave Oaccanv for the Mrachani homeworld. "Doesn't give us much time."
"Certainly not enough time to bring pressure on the Prr family," Klnn-dawan-a put in. "Unless that's not what we're talking about here."
Thrr-gilag looked at her, an unpleasant feeling running through him. "What do you mean?"
She gestured to Prr't-casst-a. "Prr't-casst-a, why don't you go get the message started," she said. "Tell him that you agree to his idea about how to handle the cutting."
"All right," Prr't-casst-a said.
She vanished. "You want to tell me what you've got in mind?" Thrr-gilag asked Klnn-dawan-a.
"I think you know as well as I do," she said. "If the Dhaa'rr leaders are bound and determined to destroy Prr't-zevisti's fsss, the three of us aren't going to have much chance of convincing the Prr family to stand up to them. Certainly not with just three fullarcs to do it in."
"And actually, I've only got one fullarc before I have to leave," Thrr-gilag agreed. "So what are the alternatives?"
Klnn-dawan-a shivered again. "I see only one. We're going to have to take the cutting ourselves."
Prr't-casst-a was back before Thrr-gilag could think of anything to say. " 'Good,' " she quoted Thrr-mezaz. " 'I know how hard this is going to be for all of you, especially Prr't-casst-a. I'm not all that thrilled about it myself. But I think it's Prr't-zevisti's only chance. I'll try to get the Prr family moving on this.' "
"Good," Thrr-gilag said. He looked at Klnn-dawan-a—"But I think we'd better have an alternative plan ready. Just in case."
Prr't-casst-a frowned slightly, but she nodded and disappeared. "Do you have any idea what you're suggesting?" Thrr-gilag asked Klnn-dawan-a. "None of us is exactly qualified to take fsss cuttings."
"It's not supposed to be all that hard anymore," Klnn-dawan-a said. "Not with modern preservation methods. There's not so much of that internal liquefaction that made those first cuttings so difficult."
"A great cheer for progress," Thrr-gilag growled. "Unfortunately, that's not going to help us a bit. Prr't-zevisti's fsss wasn't treated with modern preservatives, remember?"
Klnn-dawan-a winced. "You're right."
"And that means cold-knives and a compressed argon atmosphere and all the rest of it," Thrr-gilag went on. "And something to seal the cut end before everything leaks out, and a healer qualified to do that sort of work. Not to mention the whole trick of sneaking a fsss out of its niche and then sneaking it back in afterward."
"I didn't say it would be easy," Klnn-dawan-a snapped, glaring at him. "I just said it was our only chance."
Thrr-gilag glared back. But she was right. Except that it was Prr't-zevisti's only chance.
Prr't-casst-a reappeared. " 'I think I understand—' " She paused. "Are you all right?" she asked, looking back and forth between Thrr-gilag and Klnn-dawan-a.
Thrr-gilag sighed. "Sure," he said, laying a hand on Klnn-dawan-a's shoulder. "Just a little difference of opinion. What did Thrr-mezaz say?"
"Right. 'I think I understand what you're saying. Good luck, and keep me informed. Farewell.' "
"Farewell, Thrr-mezaz," Thrr-gilag murmured, an odd sensation tingling at the base of his tongue. That last message from Thrr-mezaz had sounded suspiciously rushed. Could there be some trouble with the Humans?
Prr't-casst-a was still waiting. "Go ahead and release the pathway," Thrr-gilag instructed her. "Remind them we may be needing them again later."
She nodded and vanished, returning a few beats later. "They've all agreed to stand ready. What now?"
"We need ideas," he told her. "Let's go off and think, and plan to meet back here in, say, three tentharcs. Or as close to here as we can manage," he added, glancing at the encroaching waves again. "Oh, we'll also need to know where exactly Prr't-zevisti's niche is. Can you get the number for us?"
"He's right beside me," Prr't-casst-a said, bittersweet memories crossing her face. "We were moved to adjoining niches after we were bonded."
A different system from the one the Kee'rr used. "Good," he said. "That will help. All right, then. Three tentharcs from now."
"Yes," Prr't-casst-a said. "Again, I thank you. Both of you."
"Sure," Thrr-gilag said. "Go on, get going."
"So what are we going to do?" Klnn-dawan-a asked as they picked their way carefully between the waves and left the cave.
"I don't know," Thrr-gilag confessed. "But we'll come up with something."
"The Imperative picked it up about three hunbeats ago, Commander," the warrior at the monitor said tightly. "There it is—right there."
"I see it," Thrr-mezaz nodded, peering closely at the monitor. As always with direct laser links, the image was a little fuzzy. But it was clear enough to see that the spacecraft slowly drifting toward Dorcas was not of Human-Conqueror design. "What do they make of it?"
"It'll have to get a little closer before they know for sure," the warrior said. "But their preliminary analysis indicates that it's very much like the design of the spacecraft the Cakk'rr captured at Cataloged World Five Ninety-two."
Thrr-mezaz grimaced. "A Mrachani spacecraft."
"Or at least Mrachani designed," the warrior nodded.
There was a sound behind Thrr-mezaz, and he turned as Klnn-vavgi stepped up beside him. "Anything happening out there, Second?" he asked.
"No, so far everything's quiet," Klnn-vavgi reported. "All perimeter warrior teams are on alert, and I've got all the Elders out at their full anchorline limits watching for trouble."
For all the good that would do. Elder eyesight wasn't all that terrific in broad sunlight; at latearc it was even less so. "And there's nothing stirring at the Human-Conqueror stronghold?"
"Nothing we can spot." Klnn-vavgi gestured to the image on the monitor. "You think our visitor might not be expected?"
"I don't know," Thrr-mezaz said. "To be honest, none of this Mrachani business makes any sense to me."
Klnn-vavgi shrugged. "I don't think it's all that hard to understand. The Mrachanis are a subject race under Human-Conqueror domination, and they want us to help them."
"Yes, that's what they say," Thrr-mezaz agreed. "Question is, is that really what they're about? Look at the chronology a hunbeat. We've got our first sighting of a Mrachani spacecraft about half a cyclic ago by a Cakk'rr survey ship that was poking around Cataloged World Five Ninety-two. They went back there about fifteen fullarcs after that first brush with the Human-Conquerors and found another spacecraft, which promptly opened fire on them with Elderdeath weapons."
"And was just as promptly shot back at," Klnn-vavgi said. "Injuring the crew and requiring some patchwork to make it flyable again."
"Allegedly injuring the crew," Thrr-mezaz reminded him. "Last I heard, the Overclan healers still weren't sure it was the Cakk'rr counterattack that injured them. But here's where it gets interesting. The Cakk'rr put a couple of warriors aboard the Mrachani spacecraft and were escorting it to Base World Twelve when they got a scream for help from the Elders on Study World Eighteen. The warships diverted that direction, leaving the Mrachani spacecraft to go on alone, and got to Study World Eighteen just in time to chase some Human-Conqueror warcraft away."
He touched his thumbs together for emphasis. "Which meant the Mrachani spacecraft was all alone when it reached Base World Twelve. Which means that if Thrr-gilag's Human-Conqueror prisoner had succeeded in getting it off the ground, there would have been no Zhirrzh warships anywhere nearby that could have stopped him."
"Interesting," Klnn-vavgi murmured. "Come to think of it, it occurs to me that those Copperhead warriors didn't show up until the prisoner had failed to lift the spacecraft. Almost as if they knew he'd failed."
"Right," Thrr-mezaz nodded. "And the fact that they were there at all either means they were flooding the whole region with warriors looking for him—in which case we should be seeing a lot more Human-Conqueror warcraft than we have so far—or else they knew exactly where to look. Put it all together, and it starts sounding suspiciously like a coordinated effort."
"Could be," Klnn-vavgi said. "That would mean the Mrachanis would have had to transmit the Base World Twelve vector to the humans before they left Cataloged World Five Ninety-two. And transmitted it in some way the Cakk'rr couldn't detect."
"An X-ray laser, perhaps," Thrr-mezaz said. "Or something simpler: a visual flash-code at an angle where the Cakk'rr warships and Elders couldn't see it."
"There's one other possibility," Klnn-vavgi said slowly. "It could be that the Human-Conquerors have managed to crack the age-old problem of tracking spacecraft in the tunnel-line."
Thrr-mezaz looked at the image on the monitor, an eerie tingling running through him. Thrr-gilag had half-jokingly suggested the same thing, just after the attack on Base World 12. The concept was impossible, and provably so, and he'd said so at the time.
But the Human-Conquerors had already demonstrated that their technology was different from that of the Zhirrzh. If they had found a way to do the impossible...
"Commander?" one of the warriors called. "Message from Supreme Ship Commander Dkll-kumvit. He requests your presence immediately aboard the Imperative for a full-force commanders' meeting. A transport will pick you up in fifteen hunbeats."
"Acknowledge the order," Thrr-mezaz told him, the eerie feeling growing stronger. Something was up with this, all right. "Better get a couple of Stingbirds in the air, Second."
"Right," Klnn-vavgi said, gesturing the order to the warrior at the appropriate monitor.
"And keep a sharp watch on the mountain," Thrr-mezaz added quietly. "If the Mrachanis and Human-Conquerors are working together, this might be a good time for them to attack."
"The device they dropped is still drifting slowly toward us," the commander of the Requisite said, jabbing his tongue at one of the monitors in the Imperative's strategy room. "Still apparently attached to the Mrachani spacecraft itself via a long cable. The searchers and Elders on the scene report that it appears to be a slightly different version of the recorder device found in the wreckage of the Human-Conqueror warcraft after that first battle. The message visible on the monitor is in the Human-Conqueror language. We've set up a direct-link back to the Requisites interpreter and should have something shortly."
"A Human-Conqueror recorder," one of the other ship commanders commented. "Odd way to communicate."
"Not all that odd," Supreme Ship Commander Dkll-kumvit rumbled, stroking the side of his face. "Rather inventive, in fact. Don't forget, they have no way of knowing what frequencies our direct-link lasers use."
"Unless they were able to learn that from the escaped Human-Conqueror prisoner," one of the other ship commanders said tartly, throwing a meaningful look at Thrr-mezaz.
Thrr-mezaz ignored the gibe. "The question is, Supreme Commander, can we believe whatever it is they have to say?"
"That is indeed the question," Dkll-kumvit agreed. "Fortunately, I suppose, it won't be up to us to decide. Warrior Command and the Overclan Seating will be in that particular hot seat. Have the Elders been able to learn anything?"
"Nothing useful," the Requisites commander said. "Most of the spacecraft's outer hull is metal, and those sections made of other materials usually have metal behind them." The console in front of him twittered—"We have a translation of the Mrachani message," he announced. "Coming through now."
Thrr-mezaz looked at his monitor. The message that scrolled across was very brief.
We are the Mrachanis. We are not your enemies. Please do not attack us. Please allow us to speak directly with you.
"Not much there that we're going to have to worry about believing or not believing," one of the ship commanders remarked. "Pretty straightforward."
"True," Dkll-kumvit agreed, rubbing the side of his face again. "Communicator?"
The Elder hovering overhead dropped closer. "Yes, Supreme Commander?"
"Message to Warrior Command. Advise them of the situation and request instructions."
"I obey," the Elder said, and vanished.
"We should have their response in a few hunbeats," Dkll-kumvit said, looking around the strategy room. "Until then I suggest you all adjourn to the war room, where you can monitor events more closely." His gaze stopped on Thrr-mezaz. "Commander Thrr-mezaz, you might as well return to your encampment. I'll keep you company here until your transport is ready."
"I obey, Supreme Commander," Thrr-mezaz said.
The rest of the ship commanders collected their datalists and equipment and left. "Interesting turn of events," Dkll-kumvit said when he and Thrr-mezaz were alone. "Why do you suppose the Mrachanis came here, instead of to one of the other beachheads we've established?"
Thrr-mezaz shrugged. "Convenience, perhaps. Or maybe privacy."
"What do you mean, privacy?"
"Well, except for that one brief raid and the survey ship visits that led up to it, the Human-Conquerors have left Dorcas pretty much alone," Thrr-mezaz pointed out. "If the Mrachanis are the conquered race they claim to be, this would be a logical place to contact us without running into their conquerors."
"You say that as if you don't really believe it," Dkll-kumvit commented. "Do you think the Mrachanis are lying?"
"I think it's a definite possibility," Thrr-mezaz said. "The apparent abandonment of Dorcas by the Human-Conquerors could be a ruse, with the Mrachanis being sent in to try it a different way."
"That's certainly possible," Dkll-kumvit said. "There's another possibility, of course. From Warrior Command's analysis of the data in the captured recorder we've been assuming that the Human-Conquerors are dominated by a single clan, the NorCoord. But there's no reason why the Mrachanis have to be so monolithic."
"So what we could have here might be two different clans at work," Thrr-mezaz said, nodding thoughtfully. "One working for the Human-Conquerors, the other not."
"Or else they're both working against the Human-Conquerors but also against each other," Dkll-kumvit said. "All you have to do is study Zhirrzh history to see how complicated this sort of thing can get."
Thrr-mezaz looked at the monitor and the Mrachani message still displayed there. "I'd recommend, Supreme Commander, that you make sure all these possibilities are passed on to the Overclan before the Mrachani mission leaves Oaccanv."
"I intend to." Dkll-kumvit looked up as the Elder reappeared. "Yes?"
"Message for you, Supreme Commander," the Elder said. " 'Warrior Command to Supreme Ship Commander Dkll-kumvit. Mrachani prisoners are to be held at Dorcas until suitable arrangements can be made for their interrogation. Under no circumstances are they to be brought aboard any of the encirclement warships or sent on to other Zhirrzh worlds.' "
"Understood," Dkll-kumvit said. "How long are these arrangements likely to take?"
The Elder nodded and vanished. "So much for putting a few warriors aboard their spacecraft and sending them on to Oaccanv," Dkll-kumvit commented.
"Yes," Thrr-mezaz agreed. "It sounds as if Warrior Command is having their suspicions, too."
"That's a proper part of their job," Dkll-kumvit pointed out. "The question then arises of what exactly we're supposed to do with the Mrachanis in the meantime."
The Elder reappeared. " 'We anticipate a delay of only a few fullarcs,' " he quoted. " 'We do not wish a repeat of the Base World Twelve incident.' "
"Understandable," Dkll-kumvit said, looking at Thrr-mezaz. "It does, however, leave me in a somewhat awkward position. I concur that we don't want them aboard our warships. But I also don't like the idea of leaving them aboard their own spacecraft, with access to unknown equipment and weaponry."
Thrr-mezaz nodded, suppressing a grimace. It was obvious now why Dkll-kumvit had invited him up here to this meeting. Obvious, too, why the supreme commander had asked him to stay behind for this private chat after sending the other ship commanders off to the war room. "I'm sure that Warrior Command has considered all such possibilities, though," he said. "Shall I volunteer now to take them down to my encampment, or should I wait for an official order?"
Dkll-kumvit smiled wryly. "I suppose you might as well volunteer," he said. "Provided, of course, that you can make sure they're kept away from Zhirrzh technology."
"That won't be a problem," Thrr-mezaz said. "There are several Human-Conqueror buildings we aren't using, one of which in particular would be easy to guard. We'll put them in there."
"Accessible to Elders?"
"Yes," Thrr-mezaz said. "It's a sort of storehouse, with a metal frame and metal in the doors, roof, and window covers. But the rest is all wood. We can also make it comfortable enough to hopefully not offend them in the event they really are ambassadors of goodwill."
"Good point," Dkll-kumvit grunted. "A possibility we're going to have to keep in mind." He hesitated, and in his face Thrr-mezaz could see the stipulations of preestablished policy battling with his basic concern for his warriors. "I won't shred words for you here, Commander," he said. "This whole thing could be very dangerous, both to you and the beachhead in general. If you're right, and the Mrachanis are up to something, it could put your ground force in serious danger. As supreme commander on the scene, I can overrule Warrior Command's instructions on this."
"I appreciate that, Supreme Commander," Thrr-mezaz said. "And I thank you for the offer. But being in danger is part of our job, after all." He flicked his tongue. "Besides, I'm curious to see what the Human-Conqueror reaction will be to a Mrachani spacecraft landing inside our encampment."
"It should be interesting," Dkll-kumvit agreed heavily. "Very well, then." He gestured to the Elder. "Inform Warrior Command that the Mrachani spacecraft will be landing in the Zhirrzh beachhead on Dorcas."
"I obey," the Elder said, and vanished.
"Well, that's it, then," Dkll-kumvit said, getting up from his couch. "Better get back to your encampment, Commander, and prepare to receive visitors. Your transport's standing ready for you."
"I obey," Thrr-mezaz said, standing up with him. "Is there anything else about all this I should know?"
"Nothing that's not obvious," Dkll-kumvit said. "A communicator relay pathway will be set up before the Mrachanis arrive at the encampment, with continuous contact between Dorcas and Warrior Command to be maintained during all interactions with them. You may ask general questions concerning their purpose here, but I'll be the only one authorized to perform a complete and formal interrogation. Unless the Overclan decides to send an official alien-studies team—that part's still being worked out. And, of course, the same policy concerning the Elders is to be observed with these aliens as it was for your brother's Human-Conqueror prisoner: they're not to be given any reason to suspect the Elders' existence or presence."
"I understand," Thrr-mezaz said.
"Good," Dkll-kumvit said. "Then good luck, Commander. And be careful."
It was another tentharc before the alien spacecraft came swooping in from the west, its engines making a strange twittering drone sound as it came into earshot. Ahead of it flew one of the Requisites transports; on either side were a pair of Thrr-mezaz's Stingbirds. All of the beachhead's aircraft were in the sky, watching tensely for the move Thrr-mezaz half expected the Human-Conqueror commander to make.
And at one point an enemy aircraft did indeed appear, drifting almost casually to a point near the edge of the extended air perimeter the Stingbirds' positions had defined. But the aircraft flew back without threat or challenge, disappearing again into the Human-Conqueror stronghold. The Copperhead warriors, thankfully, did not appear at all.
Thrr-mezaz was waiting as the Mrachani spacecraft came down, a translator-link firmly planted in his ear slits, a similarly linked optronic speaker on his shoulder. This spacecraft was much larger than the one the Cakk'rr had tangled with near Cataloged World 592, he saw, and as it rolled toward him, he wondered uneasily what sort of weaponry it carried. If its true mission was to get into the Zhirrzh encampment and try to obliterate it...
But the spacecraft rolled to a stop without incident in the center of the circle of light formed by the spotlights the technics had rigged. A hatchway and ramp appeared in one side; and as Thrr-mezaz stepped to the foot of the ramp, two aliens appeared at the top and started down.
The reports regarding the first Mrachani spacecraft had arrived at the Dorcas encampment the previous fullarc, so Thrr-mezaz had some idea what to expect. Even so, the Mrachanis were something of a shock. Roughly Zhirrzh-sized, they were slender creatures, with heads and necks coated in short fur like some kind of small animal. Their faces were flat, much closer in appearance to Human-Conqueror design and arrangement than to Zhirrzh faces. They looked harmless, even friendly.
Except that one of their kind had already opened fire on a Zhirrzh ship. It wouldn't hurt to keep that thought in mind.
The Mrachanis reached the foot of the ramp and started speaking. Thrr-mezaz waited, catching an occasional word here and there from his brief and hurried studies of the Human-Conqueror language, until the translation began to come through his translator-link. "We bring greetings to the Zhirrzh people. I am Lahettilas, representative of the Mrach people. We are not your enemies. We are your friends. We wish to discuss the possibility of working together against our common enemy, the Mirnacheem-hyeea."
"I see," Thrr-mezaz said. That Mirnacheem-hyeea thing had been in the Overclan Seating report. Conquerors Without Reason, the other Mrachani had translated it: the Human-Conquerors. "I am Thrr-mezaz; Kee'rr," he told them, gesturing to the waiting warriors. Three of them stepped forward and handed kavra fruit to Thrr-mezaz and the two Mrachanis. Thrr-mezaz sliced his and waited.
The aliens' response was interesting, and far different from the one Thrr-gilag had observed back on Base World 12 from the Human-Conqueror prisoner. Whereas Pheylan Cavanagh had simply shown that his tongue wasn't like those of the Zhirrzh and had offered the kavra back, the two Mrachanis seemed bound and determined to duplicate Thrr-mezaz's action. Their tongues were as unequal to the task as the Human-Conqueror's had been, but they had a go at it anyway. Using the clawlike extensions of his fingers, Lahettilas struggled to dig a short and rather shallow groove in the kavra's skin, while the other alien did likewise with his teeth. Thrr-mezaz watched their efforts with mild interest, trying to decide whether he preferred their attempts to act like Zhirrzh or Pheylan Cavanagh's more honest and straightforward acceptance of his limitations.
It took another hunbeat, but eventually the Mrachanis seemed to decide that they had satisfied whatever honor was inherent in this ritual. Thrr-mezaz handed his kavra back to the warrior, and the aliens did likewise. "Now," Thrr-mezaz said, lowering his hands to drip the remainder of their accumulated juice onto Dorcas's soil, "let us speak. You offer the Zhirrzh your assistance. Tell me why you believe we need such assistance."
His shoulder speaker gave the translation. Thrr-mezaz watched the aliens closely, noticing the sudden stiffening of their fur. A reaction to his question? Lahettilas spoke again—"Surely the Zhirrzh cannot stand alone against the Humans," the translation came. "Surely not against the weapon CIRCE."
Thrr-mezaz frowned. CIRCE? There hadn't been any reference to a weapon called CIRCE in any of the reports he'd read. "The Zhirrzh have mighty weapons, too," he said, wondering if he should ask about this CIRCE thing or pretend he knew all about it. "Perhaps instead we should—"
"Commander Thrr-mezaz!" a thin voice snapped. Thrr-mezaz looked up, to see an Elder hovering directly over the two aliens. "You are to halt this line of questioning immediately."
It was obvious from the way the Mrachanis glanced around that they'd heard the words. Fortunately, by the time they got around to looking up, the Elder was gone. "But this is no place for such discussions," Thrr-mezaz improvised, gesturing again to the warriors and thankful for once that Elder voices couldn't be picked up by optronic microphones. "Your living area is across the landing field. Come with us."
The warriors fell in beside them, and together they all headed across the open space, the spotlights following their path the whole way. Klnn-vavgi and more warriors were waiting for them there, lined up beside the door to the storehouse that they'd hurriedly converted into living quarters for their visitors. "Here is where—" Thrr-mezaz broke off, glancing over his shoulder as the darklight beam connecting him with the interpreter belatedly caught up with him. "Here is where you will stay," he began again. "Two warriors will be on duty outside this door if you need anything. If you will tell me what you need from your spacecraft, I will have it brought to you."
"Thank you," the translator said in Thrr-mezaz's ear slits a few beats later. "Everything we need is in the five cases waiting inside our spacecraft at the top of the ramp. We do not need them quickly."
Or in other words, Lahettilas was fully expecting the Zhirrzh to search their luggage before turning it over to them. Not only expecting it, but rather magnanimously giving them his permission to do so.
Which was just as well. Thrr-mezaz had been planning to search the cases whether they liked it or not. "We will deliver them to you as quickly as possible," he promised the alien. "The warriors will show you inside. Someone will be here later to see you."
"And then there will be talk?" Lahettilas asked.
"Yes," Thrr-mezaz said. "Then there will be talk."