Conquerors' Legacy

17

"I was a little worried myself," Doctor-Cavan-a said, closing the door behind her.

For a few beats Prr't-zevisti studied her face. An alien face, its display of emotions dark to his understanding. Even so, there was something about it that disturbed him. "You were gone a long time," he said, trying hard to wring some meaning from that face. "Has something happen?"

"My commander thinks you are lying to me," Doctor-Cavan-a said. "He thinks you can talk from here to your commander."

Prr't-zevisti stared at her, the very bluntness of the accusation startling him into silence. "I do not lie to you," he protested. "Why does your commander think I do?"

"Your commander attacked a place they shouldn't have known about."

"Why shouldn't they have know about the place?" Prr't-zevisti asked. "Is it hid from the Elders?"

Doctor-Cavan-a turned her head back and forth to the side. "Sorry. I meant to say they shouldn't have known the (something) of the place."

Prr't-zevisti flicked his tongue in perplexity. "I don't know that word, the one before 'of the place.' "

"It means the purpose or possible purpose."

Significance: purpose or possible purpose. Prr't-zevisti tucked the word and its definition away in his ever-increasing Human vocabulary. "Why does your commander think Zhirrzh activeness at the place has significance? Commander Thrr-mezaz sees much, and is curious about all."

"That is possible," Doctor-Cavan-a said. "But my commander does not think we can take that risk."

"The risk is that the war continue," Prr't-zevisti snapped. "Does he not accept that truth?"

"He does not yet accept that it is truth," Doctor-Cavan-a said. "He sees that the truth might be different: that you are a spy."

For a handful of beats Prr't-zevisti gazed at her alien face. "What about you, Doctor-Cavan-a? What do you accept?"

Again Doctor-Cavan-a turned her head back and forth to the side. "I do not know," she said. "We will think more. It is possible we will yet accept that you do not lie."

Prr't-zevisti flicked his tongue, this time in exasperation. The Humans and Zhirrzh were poised for wholesale slaughter of each other; and here was their only way out, blocked by the paranoid fears of a minor Human warrior commander. What in the eighteen worlds did he think was up here that was worth spying on, anyway? "How can I prove my truth?" he demanded.

"I do not know any way," Doctor-Cavan-a said, her voice quiet. "I am sorry."

For a few beats the metal room was silent. The metal prison. "Then what do we do?" Prr't-zevisti asked at last. "How can we stop the war?"

"I do not know any way," Doctor-Cavan-a said again. "We must try to think of a way."

She turned around and pushed the door open just far enough for her to slip through. "You go?" Prr't-zevisti asked.

"I must go," Doctor-Cavan-a said. "My commander has ordered me to stay away from you until he decides."

"But—"

"I am sorry, Prr't-zevisti. Farewell for now."

She slipped out through the opening, swinging the door shut behind her. It closed with a muffled boom.

And Prr't-zevisti was once again alone.

"The fools," he murmured aloud. "The irresponsible fools."

The words echoed through his mind and faded into silence. So it was over. His own people had abandoned him here; and now the Humans themselves had rejected the truth.

Which made them doubly fools, because with that rejection they had resigned themselves to their own destruction. The Zhirrzh warriors would win this war, just as they always won. And it would serve the Humans right.

He flicked his tongue in disgust. It would serve them right... but he knew perfectly well that he couldn't just sit by and let that happen. Not if there was any way to stop it. He'd been a warrior once, a warrior of the proud and noble Dhaa'rr clan. True warriors made war only in self-defense.

Which meant he would just have to find a way to convince Doctor-Cavan-a and her Human commander that he was telling the truth.

And hope that until then neither the Humans nor the Zhirrzh did anything that would inflame the war so much that nothing he could do would stop it.

Bronski shook his head. "I don't know, Cavanagh. It seems to me that if it was this easy, someone at Command would have come up with it by now."

"There's a good chance someone has," Lord Cavanagh said, running his eye over the numbers one more time. With access to Bronski's ship computer he'd finally been able to nail down the idea that had been floating nebulously around his mind during all those days stuck on Granparra. "On the other hand, maybe not. Peacekeeper Command may be concentrating on high heat-capacity materials. If they're even experimenting with ablative coatings at all."

"Oh, you can bet they're concentrating on pretty much everything," Bronski assured him, flipping through the graphs on the display again and stopping at a sharply rising hyperbolic curve. "These philo-plant leaves really behave like this?"

"Trust me," Cavanagh assured him. "The R-and-D group that first tested them thought they'd found the ideal circuit-board material: tough yet flexible, and with a better semimagnetic profile than even sloanmetal."

"Not to mention free," Bronski murmured.

"Right," Cavanagh said. "The Palisades Alps were practically covered with the things. Anyway, the team thought they had their bonuses already in the bank on this one. They had fifteen hundred boards made up and flown to Avon for further tests."

He smiled tightly at the memory. "And then someone tried laser-welding components onto them; and bingo: vapor defocusing."

"Yeah," Bronski muttered. "You realize, of course, that defocusing a welding laser is a far cry from doing the same to those big war lasers the Zhirrzh use."

"Of course," Cavanagh said. "These self-cohesion curves might easily break down under that sort of flash-heating. But I think it's at least an avenue worth exploring further."

"I suppose," Bronski agreed grudgingly. "Sure, get it written up and we'll send it out on the next skitter headed for Earth or Edo."

"Brigadier?" Kolchin's voice called. "Nearly time to mesh in."

"Thanks," Bronski said, brushing past Cavanagh and heading up into the control room.

Cavanagh filed away his calculations and followed, arriving just as Bronski was replacing Kolchin in the pilot's seat. "I hope we'll be exercising a certain amount of discretion," he commented, sitting down behind the brigadier.

"I wasn't planning on charging in with shredders blazing and making wholesale arrests, if that's what you mean," Bronski said. "Don't worry, I know how to sneak into places."

"The ship has a false ID signal?" Kolchin asked.

"You'd be amazed at the assortment of ID signals it has," Bronski replied. "Here we go."

From somewhere beneath them came the rattle of multiple relays snapping open. The blackness outside the canopy became a brief illusion of a tunnel; and then the stars flowed back into their proper places surrounding the planet ahead. "Looks like we're about a half hour out," Bronski said, giving his displays a quick survey.

"What do we do about passports?" Cavanagh asked. "Or were you planning on leaving us on the ship while you snoop around?"

"Tempting thought," Bronski said. "But knowing you, you'd probably steal it. Here."

He tossed a pair of dark-green passports—Arcadian issue?—back over his headrest. Cavanagh caught them and opened them up.

They were Arcadian, all right, made out to a father-and-son merchandising team of Baccar and Gil Fortunori. Cavanagh's and Kolchin's photos and thumbprints were already imprinted beneath the tamper proofing. "Impressive," Cavanagh said, handing Kolchin his passport. "Who do you get to be?"

"Jan-michael Marchand," Bronski said. "Your pilot and cultural facilitator." He threw Cavanagh a look over the back of his chair. "Which means I do all the talking while you two stand in the background grinning like harmless innocents. Got it?"

"I think we can handle the roles," Cavanagh said, sliding his new passport into his jacket.

"Good," Bronski said, turning back to his board. "I tucked some background info on your characters into the backs of the passports. I suggest you get to know yourselves."

The Prime gazed down into the carrier box that Speaker Cvv-panav had just dropped unceremoniously onto his desk. "All right," he said, looking up again. "It's a fsss organ. So?"

"It's not just any fsss organ, Overclan Prime," the Speaker for Dhaa'rr bit out. "It's Prr't-zevisti's fsss organ. You remember Prr't-zevisti?"

"It would be hard to forget him," the Prime said dryly. "Certainly not after all the Dhaa'rr petitions I've received calling for Commander Thrr-mezaz's removal. I was under the impression that the Dhaa'rr clan was preparing final rites for him."

Cvv-panav smiled. "You hide your disappointment well, Overclan Prime. I'm sure you would have preferred to have the evidence destroyed in the ceremony of fire. Tell me, did you and Thrr-gilag make the arrangements together to take an illegal cutting of this fsss? Or was your role merely to assist in burying the crime after its commission?"

With the ease of many cyclics of practice, the Prime kept his gaze steady and his tail spinning serenely. "That's a very serious allegation, Speaker Cvv-panav. Have you any proof that Searcher Thrr-gilag was involved in any illegal acts?"

"I have proof that some of the semiliquid material from the interior of this fsss was removed by needle," Cvv-panav said. "I can also prove that Thrr-gilag visited the Prr-family shrine shortly before the tampering was discovered."

"I see," the Prime nodded. "And for how many cyclics before Thrr-gilag's visit had the fsss been resting unexamined in its niche?"

"That's irrelevant."

"Is it?" the Prime countered. "Seems to me it's the first question a jurist would ask."

For a long beat Cvv-panav gazed at him, a mixture of speculation and irritation on his face. "This is the key, Overclan Prime," he said softly. "The key to bringing you down."

"Undoubtedly," the Prime said with a sigh. "And I wish you good luck when you've taken over the burden of running the eighteen worlds. For right now, though, that's still my job. If you'll excuse me, I have a great deal of work to do."

Cvv-panav flicked his tongue in contempt. "Mock me while you can, Overclan Prime. But I will see you toppled. And perhaps the entire Overclan system along with you." With a haughty, sweeping gesture straight out of Dhaa'rr history records he turned and stalked away—

"Speaker Cvv-panav?" the Prime called.

The other paused at the door. "Yes?"

The Prime flicked his tongue at his desk. "You forgot Prr't-zevisti's fsss"

Cvv-panav smiled tightly. "You may keep it for now, Overclan Prime. Study it; contemplate it. Therein lies the embryo of your destruction." Turning again, he pulled the door open and stepped through, closing it with a resounding thud behind him.

"I didn't think Zhirrzh talked like that anymore," the wry voice of the Fifteenth said from behind the Prime's shoulder.

"Say what you like about him, Speaker Cvv-panav does have a flair for the dramatic," the Fourth agreed, appearing just in front of the door. "Reminds me of the Speaker for Dhaa'rr when I was Overclan Prime."

"I imagine that's exactly the style he's trying for," the Prime said, carefully closing the box lid over Prr't-zevisti's fsss. "How many Elders are there outside?"

"The Eighteenth is watching," the Fourth said. "I believe I missed your explanation as to why you think the Speaker will have Elders waiting for him."

"They're witnesses," the Prime said. "Cvv-panav will want to have someone who can attest that he brought Prr't-zevisti's fsss organ into my private chambers but didn't have it when he left five hunbeats later, thereby proving he left it with me."

"To what end?"

"To the end of blaming the Prime for any damage that might occur to it, of course," the Eighteenth said, appearing in front of the desk. "You were right, Overclan Prime: there were five of them, waiting just outside the shadow region. At the Speaker's request they performed a rather complete examination of his person and clothing."

"Incredible," the Fourth murmured. "Does he really think you foolish or desperate enough to destroy evidence left in your possession?"

"I'm sure he doesn't," the Prime said grimly, opening the secure drawer of his desk and placing the box inside. "It's more likely he plans to discreetly steal the fsss back and destroy it himself."

"That would certainly fit the Speaker's slash-tongue style," the Fifteenth agreed. "As well as providing a certain symmetry to the way we trapped and blackmailed him over the theft of Thrr-pifix-a's fsss."

"Indeed." The Eighteenth nodded agreement. "You'll want a triple guard on your chambers from now on."

The Prime flicked his tongue in irritation. There was a war for survival under way, with Zhirrzh beachheads under constant threat and an assault fleet poised for a make-or-break attack on the Human-Conqueror surveillance installations on Phormbi. He didn't have time for this political nonsense. "A guard won't be enough," he told the Elders. "Cvv-panav's got something else under his tongue. Do we still have a secure pathway to Dorcas?"

"Reasonably secure," the Eighteenth said.

"Open it," the Prime instructed. "I want to speak to Searcher Thrr-gilag."

"From here in your chambers?" the Eighteenth asked, frowning. "That's not recommended."

"We don't have a choice," the Prime said. "In this case—"

"The Eighteenth is right," the Fifteenth put in. "This chamber is supposed to be inaccessible to all Elders. That deception must be maintained."

"I'm aware of that, thank you," the Prime said. "However, in this case—"

"The secret nearly escaped once before," the Fifteenth continued as if he hadn't spoken. "During the term of the Twenty-second."

"I remember," the Fourth rumbled. "The Twenty-second opened a pathway from here, and an Elder eavesdropping at the other end noted the exact time and checked on when he was supposed to have been in his chambers—"

"I'm aware of the risks," the Prime said sharply, cutting through the growing discussion. "But in this case it's a chance we have to take. Cvv-panav has allies all over Unity City, physicals and Elders both. I can't afford the risk that one of them might overhear this conversation. Now open the pathway."

"As you wish," the Eighteenth growled, still not sounding convinced.

He flicked away. The beats ticked by; and then he was back.

"The pathway is open, Overclan Prime," he said. "You may begin."

"Thank you," the Prime said. "Searcher Thrr-gilag, this is the Overclan Prime. Are you alone?"

The Eighteenth nodded and vanished, returning a few beats later. " 'My brother, Commander Thrr-mezaz, and Searcher Klnn-dawan-a are here with me,' " he quoted. " 'Shall I ask them to leave?' "

The Prime flicked his tongue. More witnesses, should this ever make it to the jurist level. But on the other side, Thrr-mezaz and Klnn-dawan-a could hardly be more involved in this than they already were. "No, they may stay," he said. "This concerns them, as well. But make sure no one else is listening."

The delay this time was nearly double the previous interval. " 'We're ready,' " the Eighteenth quoted when he finally returned. " 'Thrr-mezaz has sent all the Elders to inspect the beachhead perimeter.' "

And if any of them had lingered behind... but there was no way to totally eliminate that risk. "First of all, I want to know if you've made any progress on your Human-Conqueror studies."

" 'I'm afraid it's going slowly,' " the reply came half a hunbeat later. " 'The facilities here are limited, and an organism's biochemistry is an immensely complex system.' "

"There's nothing even preliminary you can tell me?"

" 'Nothing relating to my theory of Human aggression. We've established a baseline, though, and compared it to the similar readings from the first Human prisoner, Pheylan Cavanagh. That gives us a start.' "

The typical maddening pace of searcher studies. "Keep at it," the Prime ordered, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. "I want any information you get as soon as you get it. Not a tentharc later; right away. Is that clear?"

" 'Very clear, Overclan Prime.' "

"Good," the Prime said. "Now, what about the other matter? The one that also concerns Searcher Klnn-dawan-a's presence there?"

" 'Again, we've made no progress,' " the cautious answer came. " 'The climate and other factors aren't yet right.' "

The Prime grimaced. Translation: they hadn't yet been able to get Prr't-zevisti's new cutting within range of the Human-Conqueror mountain stronghold. Perhaps hadn't even tried. "You may not be able to wait for the climate to be right," he warned. "Matters are coming to a crisis here. Possibly there, as well."

The Eighteenth nodded and vanished. "What did you mean by that?" the Fourth asked.

"I mean that Speaker Cvv-panav isn't just going to wait around and hope I'll make a mistake," the Prime said grimly. "He has to make another move; and the odds are that move will involve Thrr-gilag."

"Yes, of course," the Fourth murmured. "Thrr-gilag has the evidence of fsss tampering that Cvv-panav wants, after all. Shouldn't you warn him?"

"I just did," the Prime said. "Even with a supposedly secure pathway I don't want to risk being any clearer than that."

The Eighteenth returned. " 'We understand, Overclan Prime,' " he quoted. " 'We'll do our best.' "

"Make certain you do," the Prime said. "Keep me informed as to your progress. Farewell, and good luck." He nodded to the Eighteenth. "Deliver that, and unless there's more from their end, you may release the pathway."

"Yes, Overclan Prime." The Eighteenth vanished.

For a merciful wonder, the other two Elders kept quiet. Reaching across his desk to his reader, the Prime keyed for the latest warrior update. The eight beachheads they held in Human-Conqueror territory were still holding firm under enemy pressure, though three of them just barely. The diplomatic group on Mra was settling in for the long term; a Dhaa'rr ship was on its way there with extra supplies for them. The ships for the quick-strike assault on the Human-Conqueror surveillance bases on Phormbi were assembled and on their way to the attack, and Warrior Command was busily trying to gather a force together for the planned thrust into the Human-Conqueror homeworld.

Assuming, of course, that the Mrachanis made good on their promise to sneak those warships past the Human-Conqueror detectors.

The Eighteenth returned. "No further messages from Thrr-gilag," he reported.

"Thank you," the Prime said. "That'll be all."

"I daresay." The Eighteenth paused. "If I may comment, Overclan Prime, you seemed unduly interested in Thrr-gilag's Human-Conqueror biochemical studies. I would have thought such subtleties had already been overtaken by events."

"Only if you trust the Mrachanis," the Prime said sourly. "I'm not sure I do."

"You're worried about the Phormbi attack?" the Fourth asked.

"I'm worried about all of it," the Prime said with a tired sigh. "Everything the Mrachanis say seems perfectly reasonable at first look. Even at second look. But whenever I start really thinking things through..." He flicked his tongue in a negative.

For a few beats the room was silent. "There's no point in worrying excessively about it," the Eighteenth said. "The decisions have been made, and the events are in motion. What will happen will happen."

"And whatever does happen, it is always safe to put your trust in Warrior Command," the Fourth added. "Whether the Mrachanis are being honest or deceitful, the Zhirrzh warriors will be capable of handling it."

"I hope so," the Prime said, turning back to his reader. "I truly hope so."

The Elder vanished, and for perhaps twenty beats the only sound in the room was the spattering of the cold, windswept rain lashing against the office windows in the latearc darkness. "I don't know about you," Thrr-gilag said at last. "But to me that sounded like an order."

"It was," Thrr-mezaz said heavily. "Something's happening back on Oaccanv. Or else is about to happen."

"Maybe someone's discovered our tampering," Klnn-dawan-a said. "Maybe they're on their way here."

And Thrr-gilag knew exactly what that would mean, both to them and to their families. He didn't doubt that his brother knew, too. "We'll just have to beat them to the slash, then," he said. "One way or another, we have got to get Prr't-zevisti's cutting up into the Human stronghold."

"What, in this?" Thrr-mezaz retorted, flicking his tongue toward the downpour outside the window. "Not a chance. The storm extends all the way to the mountains. We try climbing in this, and we'll be raised to Eldership in twenty hunbeats."

"The rain has to stop sometime," Klnn-dawan-a said. "How soon after that could you start climbing?"

"At least a fullarc," Thrr-mezaz told her. "The storm has high winds trailing behind it. Even if it didn't, wet rock is notoriously dangerous to climb."

The room fell silent again. Thrr-gilag stared out the window at the sheets of rain shimmering in the lights of the village, a hundred plans flickering through his mind, each more far-fetched than the previous one. Launching an aerial attack on the Humans? Dangerous, and probably illegal without specific orders from Warrior Command. Firing the fsss container into the mountains via catapult? Unlikely they could put something together that would have even half the range they would need. Lashing the container to an animal and sending it into the mountains? Too ridiculous even to think about. Returning the Human prisoner Sergeant Janovetz to his people with the cutting planted somewhere on him?

The flow of schemes paused in midtaste. Sergeant Janovetz...

He looked back at the others. Thrr-mezaz was still gazing at the floor in contemplation of his own; but Klnn-dawan-a, clearly sensing the change in Thrr-gilag's manner, was looking back at him with guarded hope. "You have an idea?" she asked.

"Yes," he said as Thrr-mezaz also looked up at him. "I don't like it, but I think it's our best chance. Possibly even our only chance. Certainly if we want to get the cutting up there as quickly as possible."

"Sounds terrific," Thrr-mezaz said. "You want to skip the dramatics and spit it out?" He looked over at Klnn-dawan-a. "He was always doing this when we were children," he added in explanation. "I hoped he'd grow out of it."

"He hasn't yet," Klnn-dawan-a said, trying to keep her voice light but not succeeding very well. "Go ahead, Thrr-gilag."

"We do exactly what the Humans did with Sergeant Janovetz," Thrr-gilag said. "We send someone into the Human stronghold on some pretext and send Prr't-zevisti's fsss cutting in with him."

"Brilliant," Thrr-mezaz said. "There are just two small problems: how do we keep the Human-Conquerors from shooting down his transport, and how do we get him out again?"

"For the first, I presume we do it the same way the Human commander did," Thrr-gilag said. "We send an unarmed vehicle, and we send it in flying slow and steady. For the second—" He grimaced. "We don't get him out. Like Sergeant Janovetz, the courier would have to stay there as a prisoner."

"I was afraid you'd say that," Thrr-mezaz said. "Unfortunately, I can't afford to lose any of my warriors."

"I know," Thrr-gilag said. "That's why the courier has to be me."

He'd expected a reaction of some kind. The complete lack of one showed that both of the others had already arrived at the same conclusion. "It'll be dangerous, Thrr-gilag," Thrr-mezaz warned. "These are the Human-Conquerors. We don't know what they'll do to you."

"Believe me, my brother, if I thought I was walking straight to my Eldership, I wouldn't be volunteering," Thrr-gilag assured him. "I don't believe they'll hurt me."

"What about your theory?" Thrr-mezaz reminded him. "You'll be facing a whole group of Human-Conquerors up there, not just single individuals."

"Yet a whole group of them let Klnn-dawan-a and your warriors go unharmed at the underground room," he pointed out. "There's clearly more to these Humans than just reflex biochemical reactions."

"You could still wind up a prisoner until the end of the war," Thrr-mezaz persisted. "Or be raised to Eldership if and when Warrior Command gives me the order to attack the stronghold in force."

Thrr-gilag felt his tail twitch. "I know that. It's a risk I'm going to have to take."

Thrr-mezaz hissed with frustration, looking over at Klnn-dawan-a. "Aren't you going to say anything, Klnn-dawan-a?" he demanded.

"What would I say?" Klnn-dawan-a said, her voice soft and filled with distant dread. "You can see he's made up his mind. Besides, you know as well as he does that it's the only way."

"I don't accept that," Thrr-mezaz growled. "Not yet."

"You've got the rest of the latearc to come up with an alternative," Thrr-gilag said. "But if we haven't come up with anything else by premidarc, I think we'll have to go with this plan. In fact, it might be pushing it to wait even that long—we don't know what's happening on Oaccanv that has the Overclan Prime worried enough to call us like this."

"We're waiting until premidarc whether the Prime likes it or not," Thrr-mezaz said firmly. "I'm not going to try sending a transport into enemy territory in the dark. Not even a slow, unarmed one."

"We need the time for preparation, anyway," Thrr-gilag agreed. "Can you have someone get some supplies together for me? Especially some food—I don't know if I'm really ready to try Human cuisine just yet."

"I'll take care of it," Thrr-mezaz promised in a resigned tone. "We'll also need to come up with a good excuse for why you're doing this."

"Perhaps you can be taking information back to the Human-Conquerors about Sergeant Janovetz," Klnn-dawan-a suggested quietly. "Proof that he's alive and well. That might also help in their treatment of you."

"Good idea," Thrr-gilag said. "Thrr-mezaz?"

"I'll take care of that, too," his brother said.

"All right, then." Thrr-gilag got to his feet, trying to keep his tail motion steady. He didn't like this any better than the others did. Far less than they did, actually—he could still feel the residual stiffness in his neck where Pheylan Cavanagh had gripped him during the Human's escape. The Humans were aliens, with the fundamental unpredictability that that implied.

But it had to be done. That was the summation line: it had to be done. "If you'll excuse me, then, I'd better go get some rest. It's going to be a very busy fullarc."

"I'll come with you," Klnn-dawan-a said, standing up and stepping to his side. "At least walk with you to your quarters."