Conquerors' Heritage

21

"Yes," Thrr-gilag said, holding up his pass for inspection. "I was told to come here—"

"I know," the Elder cut him off. "The Overclan Prime awaits you in his private chambers. Follow me."

Without waiting for a reply he set off down the corridor. Thrr-gilag followed, his tail spinning nervously behind him. There was trouble in the air. Big trouble. He'd seen it in the hardened faces of the perimeter protectors who had directed him to this particular door instead of to any of the main entrances. He could see it in the eyes of the Overclan warriors whom he passed and could hear it in the low tones as they conversed among themselves as he went by.

Big trouble. And all of it focused on him.

And to Thrr-gilag it was obvious what had happened. Somehow they'd found out about that little stunt he and Klnn-dawan-a had pulled with Prr't-zevisti's fsss back on Dharanv. They'd found out, and he was being led off to summary trial and judgment. All was lost: his career, his honor, his bond-engagement to Klnn-dawan-a. And Prr't-zevisti's last chance for survival.

It was over. And yet, even as Thrr-gilag's emotions swung violently between panic and resignation at the looming disaster, a small part of his mind refused to let go of the nagging sense that something here wasn't right. Why would the Overclan Prime get personally involved with such a sordid matter? For that matter, why had they trusted him to obey the summons to Oaccanv? Shouldn't they at least have brought him back here under warrior guard?

The fears and doubts and apprehensions were still chasing through his mind when he and the Elder arrived at their destination. It was a different room from the private offices he'd been brought to—could it really have been only eight fullarcs ago?—just after the ignominious return of the alien study group from Base World 12. "Enter," the Elder said, and vanished. Trying vainly to slow his tail's dizzying spin, Thrr-gilag gripped the wooden ring and pulled the door open.

It was a smaller room than the Prime's private office had been, and even more simply furnished. But it was imbued with the same sense of age and history. Two Zhirrzh were waiting for him: the Overclan Prime and Speaker Cvv-panav of the Dhaa'rr. "Come in, Searcher Thrr-gilag," the Prime said gravely. "You know the Speaker for Dhaa'rr."

"I do," Thrr-gilag said, nodding respectfully to each of them in turn and noting the odd lack of a kavra-fruit rack. Here in the Prime's private chambers, apparently, such formalities were dispensed with.

"I'm afraid I have bad news for you, Searcher," the Prime said, "concerning a matter of grave importance. For reasons that will become apparent, I've decided to personally intervene. Please; sit down."

Thrr-gilag lowered himself onto the indicated couch, fighting to keep from blurting out the words boiling up within him. Whatever they knew—whatever they thought they knew—he must above all else not help them by volunteering information. He and Thrr-mezaz had fallen into that trap with their parents innumerable times as children. "What is it?" he asked as calmly as he could.

"It concerns your mother, Thrr-pifix-a," the Prime said quietly, his gaze steady on Thrr-gilag's face. "She's been detained on charges of grand-first theft." He paused. "She—or rather, persons unknown employed by her—broke into the Thrr family shrine last latearc. And stole her fsss organ."

Thrr-gilag stared at him, shock freezing his muscles into immobility. "What?" he whispered.

"You heard him," Cvv-panav said, the harshness of his voice slashing across the brittle stillness like a ragged ax against kindling reeds. "She hired some thugs and stole her fsss."

Thrr-gilag looked at him, the face not really registering against the swirling paralysis in his mind. She'd done it. She'd actually done it. His mother had stolen her fsss. Had had it there, in her hands.

There in her hands... "What happened then?" he asked, afraid to hear the answer. "I mean afterward?"

"Don't worry, her fsss was recovered intact," the Prime assured him. "Which is about the only good part of all this. At least she won't have to stand trial for fsss destruction."

Trial. The word sent a fresh shiver through Thrr-gilag. "Will she have to stand trial at all?" he asked. "I mean, if there was no harm done—"

"There was most certainly harm done," Cvv-panav cut him off. "Her thugs broke into the shrine, damaging Thrr property and injuring one of the protectors in the process. That's worth two trials right there." He sniffed contemptuously. "What makes it all the worse is that she refuses even to admit her complicity in the crime. Claims that two unnamed Zhirrzh from a nonexistent organization came to her out of nowhere and offered to help her."

Thrr-gilag looked at the Prime. "Maybe she's telling the truth."

"The organization she named doesn't exist, Searcher," the Prime said, flicking his tongue in a negative. "We've had plenty of time to check. It simply doesn't exist."

"I see." Thrr-gilag took a careful breath. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be. "So she will have to go to trial."

"Under normal circumstance, undoubtedly," the Prime said. "In this case, however"—his eyes flicked to Cvv-panav—"Speaker Cvv-panav has asked me to intervene on behalf of you and your mother."

Thrr-gilag looked at Cvv-panav, a sudden surge of hope flickering into flame within him. Cvv-panav, Speaker of the most powerful Zhirrzh clan...

"It's obvious such a trial would be highly damaging to the Kee'rr," the Prime went on. "Because of your bond-engagement to Klnn-dawan-a, however, the prestige of the Dhaa'rr would also be affected. Naturally, Speaker Cvv-panav would like to avoid that at all costs."

"I see," Thrr-gilag said, the flicker of hope vanishing. He could see where this was going now, all right. And why Cvv-panav had decided to get involved with it. "And how would the Speaker propose that be done?"

"There will be no trial," Cvv-panav said. "Your mother will spend a few fullarcs under guard and then be allowed to return to her home. The Thrr and Kee'rr recorders will unobtrusively add the record of her crime to their archives, and the matter will be over."

"I see," Thrr-gilag said. "And what will the price be for all this official forgiveness?"

"There is no price per se," Cvv-panav said, his tone steady and unreadable. "I'm doing this for the Dhaa'rr, not you. However." He paused. "It is, of course, impossible to completely bury what has happened. The protectors of the Thrr shrine know; so do the warriors who detained Thrr-pifix-a; so do the recorders of the Thrr and Kee'rr and the Overclan. Your family is shamed, Searcher Thrr-gilag. My overriding concern is that the Dhaa'rr not be shamed along with you."

"What will the price be?" Thrr-gilag repeated.

The Speaker locked gazes with him. "Your bond-engagement to Klnn-dawan-a will end. Right here. Right now."

Thrr-gilag nodded bitterly. He'd been right. Cvv-panav had taken this tragedy and was going to twist it to his own purposes. "Suppose I refuse?"

"The bond-engagement is over, Searcher," the Prime said, his voice quiet but firm. "Accept it in private now, or accept it in public, with public humiliation, when your mother goes on trial."

Thrr-gilag looked at him, a sense of finality settling over him. Finality, and an odd sort of peace. The feeling of freedom that came of having nothing left to lose. "Are you threatening me, Overclan Prime?" he asked. "Because if you are—"

"That's enough," Cvv-panav snapped. "How dare you talk that way to—?"

"The Speaker for Dhaa'rr will be silent," the Prime said. His voice was still quiet, but suddenly there was an overpowering strength of authority to his tone. Cvv-panav flashed him a startled look and subsided, glowering.

For a beat the Prime continued to look at him. Then, slowly, he turned back to Thrr-gilag. "That was not a threat, Searcher Thrr-gilag," he said. "It was a statement of fact. Without Speaker Cvv-panav's support and assistance, there's no possibility for this to end without bringing Thrr-pifix-a to trial."

"I see," Thrr-gilag said. So it was over. The two most powerful Zhirrzh in the eighteen worlds had discussed the matter and had made their decision. "I don't seem to have any choices left. Do I."

The Prime's tongue flicked in a negative. "No. You don't."

For a few beats the room was silent. "Then I suppose it's settled," Thrr-gilag said, standing up. "Thank you for your time, Overclan Prime. And for your efforts on behalf of my mother."

"Merely repayment for your service to the Zhirrzh." Something in the Prime's face seemed to twitch—"Service which must, unfortunately, now come to an end. Under the circumstances I'm sure you understand that it would be best if you didn't represent the Kee'rr on the Zhirrzh mission to the Mrachani homeworld."

Thrr-gilag nodded, noting peripherally that Cvv-panav seemed surprised. Perhaps he hadn't expected this one. A final parting shot from the Prime himself, then. "I understand."

"I'm sorry it has to be this way," the Prime said. "On the other side, this war isn't going to be over for a long time. There will surely be other ways for you to serve the Zhirrzh people in the future."

Thrr-gilag gazed at him, filled suddenly with the almost overwhelming desire to throw the lie back into that impassive face. This war could be a very short one indeed, ended by the Human-Conquerors' devastating CIRCE weapon. He wondered if the Prime had gotten around to telling the Overclan Seating about CIRCE yet. Or what Speaker Cvv-panav's reaction would be if he learned the truth. Right here and right now...

Thrr-gilag sighed, the rage and hatred draining out of him. No. CIRCE was not his secret to tell. And the reasons for keeping that secret had not changed. "I'm sure there will be," he said instead. "When that time comes, I will of course serve to the fullest of my abilities."

"I'm sure you will," the Prime said. "Good fullarc to you, Searcher Thrr-gilag."

It was a dismissal. Thrr-gilag nodded to both of them and turned to go—

"One other thing," the Prime said from behind him. "Thrr-pifix-a is currently in the detention center at Unity City. As she'll be there for several more fullarcs, you might wish to go to her home and select a few personal items for her use there. The server at the main Overclan desk has the key to her house, as well as a list of the sorts of things she can be allowed to have."

"I appreciate the courtesy, Overclan Prime," Thrr-gilag said. "I'll have to see if I can find a way to get out there."

"Speak with the server when you pick up the key," the Prime offered. "If there are any Overclan flights heading that direction within the next couple of tentharcs, I'll see to it you're authorized to ride along."

"Thank you," Thrr-gilag said. After that last shot, a token coating of salve. Just to show there hadn't been anything personal or vindictive about this. Appearances were everything. "Again, I appreciate your courtesy."

"You'd best go, then," the Prime said.

Another dismissal. This time, clearly, he meant it. Nodding once again to the two Zhirrzh, Thrr-gilag turned and left the room.

For a few hunbeats he wandered randomly down the corridors, not really seeing or hearing the Zhirrzh he passed, his mind and emotions too frozen to think or feel anything at all. But the numbness couldn't last for long. Certainly not long enough. Slowly, inexorably, like a deep wound from which the anesthetic was receding, the bitterness and pain began to flow back in.

So it had happened. All the fears he'd taken into the room had now been realized. He'd feared the worst; and the worst had happened. In that single stroke the Dhaa'rr and the Overclan Prime had taken everything he truly valued away from him. His career, his honor, and especially Klnn-dawan-a. Everything.

Halfway down the corridor, a group of Zhirrzh looked around as an Elder appeared beside them. There was a brief, inaudible conversation, and the Elder vanished.

And Thrr-gilag realized he'd been wrong. He'd feared the worst, all right. But the worst had not, in fact, happened. In all their zeal the Overclan Prime and Speaker Cvv-panav had missed something.

Prr't-zevisti.

Thrr-gilag took a deep breath, a sudden surge of resolve slicing through the despair. No, it wasn't hopeless yet. Not yet. If Klnn-dawan-a could get that tissue sampler to Thrr-mezaz, they might still have a chance of bringing Prr't-zevisti back from the almost certain death the Dhaa'rr were trying to force on him. And if they did, maybe they could use it as a lever right back at Speaker Cvv-panav again.

The odds were vanishingly small. Thrr-gilag knew that. But it didn't matter. He had fresh hope, and new purpose, and that was what he needed most right now.

Straightening up, Thrr-gilag got his bearings and headed at a brisk walk down the corridor toward the main Overclan desk. He would take the Prime up on his offer and go get some things to take to his mother. And when he saw her, he would be cheerful and comforting and helpful.

Because the Prime and Cvv-panav hadn't taken his family away from him, either. And maybe, ultimately, that was what really mattered.

"Well," Cvv-panav said, resettling himself on his couch. "All things considered, I'd say that went quite well."

"I'm pleased you were satisfied," the Prime said, trying to ignore the twinges of guilt prodding at him. It had all been necessary, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Decisions of state, he was rapidly coming to realize, were much easier when one didn't have to face those who were affected. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some film to review before the Overclan Seating session this postmidarc."

"Come now, Overclan Prime," Cvv-panav chided, making no move to stand up. "Surely you haven't forgotten our agreement. You were going to tell me about the CIRCE weapon, remember?"

"Of course I remember," the Prime said, tapping a key on his reader. "But first I'd like to view this film. Perhaps you'd be so kind as to watch it with me." The wall behind him lit up, and the Prime turned to look.

And from the direction of Cvv-panav's couch he heard a stifled gasp. "You recognize the setting, I see," the Prime commented. "You'll note the excellent quality of the pictures, despite the somewhat inadequate lighting. See there, too—how clearly the faces of both Korthe and Dornt can be seen as they lay the pouch containing her fsss at Thrr-pifix-a's door? And the detail on the pouch itself, of course. An ideal record for, shall we say, identification purposes?"

"I'm sure we could say that, yes," Cvv-panav ground out. "Who took this film? Thrr-pifix-a?" He cursed under his breath. "So I was right, after all. She was one of your agents, and the whole thing was nothing more than a gigantic setup. Designed to destroy me."

The Prime flicked his tongue in weary negative. "You flatter yourself, Speaker, and in the same breath underestimate the strength of my position along with it. Neither you nor the Dhaa'rr are the threat to my authority you seem to believe."

"And yet you seek to destroy me," Cvv-panav accused, jabbing his tongue toward the film.

"Not true," the Prime disagreed. "You continue to insist on seeing this in terms of the ancient battle standards. With yourself as the great and glorious leader of the Dhaa'rr, who must be destroyed or else surrendered to."

"What else is there?"

"Cooperation," the Prime said. "Working together toward a common goal. Subordinating personal or clan preferences when necessary for the good of the whole."

Cvv-panav gestured contemptuously. "You dream in impossible ideals, Overclan Prime. You see five hundred cyclics of nonwar, and you think the Zhirrzh have changed. But we haven't. Conflict, competition, rivalry—it's all still there. Life in the eighteen worlds is still a contest to see who will dominate and who will submit. No different, really, from this war against the Human-Conquerors."

"You're wrong," the Prime said quietly. "Peaceful clan rivalry is nothing at all like the devastation of open warfare. And this war with the Human-Conquerors is not a contest of supremacy, at least not on our side. It's a battle for our survival."

Cvv-panav sniffed. "Strong words—"

"You wanted to hear about CIRCE," the Prime cut him off harshly. "Fine. Let me tell you about CIRCE."

He gave Cvv-panav all of it. Everything the Human-Conqueror prisoner Pheylan-Cavanagh had said; everything the technics had been able to draw from the alien recorder; everything Warrior Command had deduced or pieced together or speculated on.

It took ten hunbeats... and at the end Cvv-panav was as shaken as the Prime had ever seen him. "It's incredible," the Speaker breathed, his tail twitching uncontrollably. "Utterly incredible. How could such a thing exist?"

"I don't know," the Prime said. "If we knew, perhaps we'd be able to find a way to protect ourselves against it. But we don't. And we can't."

"That's why Warrior Command is driving so many different offensives," Cvv-panav murmured, gazing unseeingly into the air. "Trying to take as many Human-Conqueror worlds as possible to try to isolate the CIRCE components."

"Yes," the Prime nodded. "The price being that we've spread our forces dangerously thin. Ripe for a Human-Conqueror counteroffensive. But we have no other choice."

Abruptly, Cvv-panav's attention came back to him. "What if it's too late? Are you sure it's not already too late?"

"We're not sure at all," the Prime said grimly. "For all we know, they could be assembling CIRCE right now."

"And what happens if they do?"

The Prime looked him straight in the eye. "Then the Zhirrzh race will most probably die."

For a long beat they sat in silence. "What do you want from me?" Cvv-panav asked at last.

The Zhirrzh race will die. With an effort the Prime pushed aside the words that still echoed through his mind. It was the first time that he'd put his fear into actual, explicit words. Somehow that very act had made it all the more real. And all the more terrifying. "I want what I've always wanted," he told Cvv-panav. "The full cooperation of you and the Dhaa'rr."

"And you thought you needed that"—Cvv-panav gestured distastefully at the film still playing—"to insure my cooperation?"

"I want your cooperation," the Prime said. "Not your leadership. I trust you see the difference."

"And what if I don't agree with some aspect of how you're handling the war?"

"You're welcome to question me," the Prime said. "To discuss your point of view, either privately or in the Seating. But when my final decision is made, you will accept it. Without further argument."

"And if I don't?"

The Prime locked gazes with him. "Then I'll release the film. And you'll be destroyed."

There was another long beat of silence. "You play dangerous games, Overclan Prime," Cvv-panav said at last.

"I'm not playing games," the Prime countered. "This is real. And very serious."

"Oh, I know it's serious," Cvv-panav agreed. "You seem to be having far too much fun with it, that's all."

The Prime flicked a negative. "I'm not having fun, Speaker. I'm simply doing what has to be done."

"I wish I could believe that." Cvv-panav stood up. "Regardless, you've made your point. And you've won this round. But there will be others."

"When the war is over," the Prime warned.