Conquerors' Heritage

3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Taking over, is he?"

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

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

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

"Anything specific?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I obey."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Staged by whom? The Human-Conquerors?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, Searcher?" the Prime prompted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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