The Man-Kzin Wars 12

II

The inner door of the airlock closed behind the kzin and the human. Both moved differently as they stepped into the main cabin. The gravity-planer, running with a low, continuous purr, reduced gravity here to 61 percent of Earth, the gravity of Wunderland in which both had been born and grown up. The human removed her shackles and they sat down together in the control cabin. A touch on a keyboard opaqued the windows.

"Ginger, did I do all right?" asked the human. She rubbed her chilled bare feet, and slipped out of her brown slave's robe and into a modern fabric overall.

"I thought you acted convincingly scared," said the kzin in Wunderland-accented English. "A veteran couldn't have done better."

"I wasn't acting! I was bloody terrified!"

"I know. So was I. It's a scary job. You'll get used to it."

"I couldn't feel I'm much of a replacement for Simon."

"Simon was good. A good partner as well as a good friend. But you'll learn…

"There's a first time for everyone, Pet. First time for piloting an air-car solo, first time for a soldier in battle, first time for walking into a kzinti palace on a kzinti world with a lie. You'll get used to it.

"Bloody vatach blood! I need a civilized drink," continued the kzin as he dialed a bourbon and ice cream, "I think you do too… You followed all that, Perpetua?"

"Pretty well," said the woman. "So you've got a party on tonight."

"By the Fanged God! If he wishes to test his son, I hope I can survive it! And Zianya! If the Bearded God also loves me, let there not be Zianya!" Zianya were semi-intelligent animals, highly esteemed as a delicacy on kzinti worlds. The important thing was that they be torn to pieces alive at table. Their anticipatory terror and subsequent death-agonies with the first tearing bites set up a hormonal reaction that gave what was generally considered a particularly delicious flavor to their meat. "They make me sick!"

"But that's hardly the important thing."

"No. There are kz’eerkti here, even if he's a bit vague about them."

"He's obviously not too interested in monkeys."

"His body language suggested he may be more interested than he lets on. He wants to establish it's a seller's market. But he said of the slaves from Wunderland that 'they mixed with the locals.' Odd. Very odd. They would hardly have just let slaves go to breed in the bush."

"Perhaps they escaped."

"Even so. But odder than that…'mixed with the locals'? What locals? Convergent evolution? And mixed how? Could they interbreed? From different planets? Have you ever heard of such a thing?"

"No, never. But is that what he was suggesting?"

"I thought it was ambiguous," said the kzin, "but if he means the humans from Ka'-from Wunderland…mixed with the locals… It sounded as if he meant 'interbred.' I'm aware of problems with dialect, but yes, I think that's what he meant."

"You know, he didn't specifically say that they'd brought Wunderlanders back. Maybe he was just getting your interest up. I mean, convergent evolution can hardly be that convergent! Creatures from different planets-different stars!-can't interbreed."

"Well," laughed the kzin, rippling his ears, "Simon and I always said we could trust each other with our wives." The laughter ended.

"How is his wife?" the human asked.

"I saw her before we left. I think she'll be all right. She's strong. But he's a loss. Simon the Simian."

He touched a pad on the control console with a black, ripping-chisel claw and a hologram of the planet shivered into shape above it. Kzrral's polar and subpolar continents were colored green, with ice fields in the polar regions and mountains. It was 1.2 times the diameter of Earth, but with a smaller iron core giving it comparable gravity. It was warmer than Earth overall, though with extensive temperate zones in the high latitudes. A telltale far in the north of the largest continent marked the main kzinti settlement and their own position. At latitudes lower than 30 degrees savannah and then jungle belts were indicated, turning to wastelands while still many degrees from the equator; there, the seas steamed, and only a few mountaintops rose above ceaseless convection storms. The south pole was landless, though there was a small cap of water-ice sitting on the shallow seafloor, and some minor landmasses in the southern ocean. The planet was mostly hotter than Earth or Wunderland, much hotter than Kzinhome. Perpetua thought for a moment how fascinating a human biologist might find life-forms adapted to live in or pass through those near-boiling equatorial seas and steam-heated lands.

"In the tropics there could be anything," the kzin commented. "Kzinti wouldn't have much interest in it."

"Unless population pressure forced them into the tropics." Perpetua was tentative. A human-historical specialist, transferred out of academia as human Space geared up for another possible war, kzinti culture was all still largely academic for her. She had, she felt, reason to be tentative. Her experienced predecessor had either overestimated his own knowledge of that culture or been unlucky.

"Not a problem here. There are about a thousand estates on this continent, and they haven't yet occupied all the prime hunting territory by a long way yet."

"Quite a small population."

"About twenty-five thousand males in the whole northern hemisphere. Plus several times that number of females, of course, and kittens."

There had been quite a lot more before, and there would be again, as soon as the kittens grew up. Kzrral had lost a lot of males in both wars, as well as most of its spaceships. The economy was still a long way from recovering from that loss. The kzinti had come as colonists with their own spaceships, and before the wars they had never needed to build a great new spaceflight industry with the communication that led to.

"Always a backwater planet, relatively poor in mineral production-nothing to attract a huge population, and a good incentive to the kzinti already settled here not to welcome others. Why open up your world to competitors for territory?"

"Military security? A bigger population means you can support a bigger army."

"Against whom? We met everything in space and swallowed it up. No one was going to attack us! Worse luck, a lot of kzinti thought-no space-traveling races with the warrior skills to give us good sport. Well, we know better now. As for the Patriarch's regular forces, there would be no point in building up armed forces to defend against them. If they wanted such a planet they could take it. No doubt communications with the homeworld emphasized how mineral-poor it was, and presented the local kzinti as a loyal garrison of Heroes holding it for the Patriarch in case of need.

"I'd say this planet, with its wide continents in the cool-temperate zone we like, became a kind of paradise of spoiled, land-rich kzinti. Plus one small city for those who liked business or recreation there, also supporting one spaceport. There are a number of such worlds in the Patriarchy.

"Then, as the First War with Men got under way, a lot enlisted in the Patriarch's Navy. Of course freebooters also took off in their own prides seeking Names and riches, and relatively few came back at the end of it all. It cut the breeding rate, too, because a lot of the survivors had their genes scrambled by radiation, but weren't about to give their kzinretti to anyone else to breed from. Fertile males tried to steal kzinretti when they saw the sterile males holding them, and that led to more fighting. I'd guess that Warrgh-Churrg expanded his lands by incorporating estates that had no heir powerful enough to hold them.

"Anyway, you understand that population pressure is not usually a problem on kzinti worlds. A good war is population control and fun at the same time. Did you know that the First War with Men was the first time in a long while that the kzinti population of most of the planets involved actually increased? They stopped fighting each other and stopped killing surplus kittens."

"That's a thought."

"It was a thought for many of us on Wunderland, when we worked through the implications. It was a thought that was present at the birth of kdaptism: Stop fighting, and life is longer and better."

"Well, obviously."

"Only in hindsight. Most kzinti don't grasp it even yet. I might remind you it's a fairly recent concept among men, too."

"Not all that recent."

"To be willing to die for peace? And not just in ancient legends?"

"Kdaptists will do that?"

"Did you get any training?" Ginger exclaimed.

"A little. But they said there wasn't the time or resources. With the probability of another war so high…They said to ask you."

"That's what they told me, too, when I protested about an inexperienced partner: 'Get them out while you can! Teach her on the job!' If it makes you feel better, however, it's been said that in this job, like any other sort of martyrdom, mere willingness is a very large part of the qualification."

"It doesn't make me feel a great deal better, actually. Martyrdom is not my first ambition."

"It's not invariably a volunteer job. Kdaptism first spread during the aftermath of the first human victory on Wunderland among those-computer nerds and telepaths, a lot of them-who suddenly realized they were sick of being barbarians. And a few officers and soldiers who'd listened to Chuut-Riit and had lived with human slaves, later led by at least one genius in the form of Vaemar. So you had kzinti on post-Liberation Wunderland who gave themselves names like Mister Robinson, and eventually kzinti like me, who probably talk too much even if we still have secret self-conferred kzinti Names that we cling to. It's less a religion than a set of attitudes and a long-term…well, perhaps 'dream' is as good a word as any. Whatever it is, it's all another reason I'm glad great-great-grandsire stayed on Wunderland after the First War."

"You don't envy Warrgh-Churrg, then?"

"I told you, he scares me… I wonder what he'd think of a kzin who admitted fear to a monkey?"

"That's quite a thought. I think I'll have a drop of that bourbon myself. Any sign of kdaptism here?"

"None that I can see. The most visible signs are of vehement persecution, of course. The Blackfurs-priests-have always had the attitude of the Inquisition. With the ability to smell heretics."

"Well, if there are any here, I hope they don't have a nose for you either."

"Unlikely. We're rare, and very rare off Wunderland."

"They have Jotoki here. They're an exotic species."

"They have them pretty well everywhere in the kzinti worlds," said the kzin. "Useful creatures. Prey animals and mechanics in one! And the feral ones cunning and dangerous enough to give Heroes decent sport. A hint of what humans might have been if the wars had gone differently. I'm glad they didn't."

"I know that, Ginger."

"Anyway, it seems there is something in the reports. Despite Warrgh-Churrg's lack of specificity, there may be unrepatriated slaves here. What did you think about the ears? I didn't want to be seen looking too closely."

"They might be human. But it was hard to tell. The slaves we saw shuffling round might have been human too, under those sacks they wore-I didn't see that they weren't, anyway."

"I'll have to get on a hunt."

"Will that be possible?"

"I don't know, but I don't see why not. A part of hospitality, and it could be very beneficial for him. He likes gold. I could see that, all right. And his ears twitched when I mentioned that I trade in it."

"He certainly seemed to have plenty of it around."

"Which is an infallible sign that he wants more. Excuse me, Perpetua, I'd like to brush my fangs. That vatach stinks. As if his piss wasn't enough to put up with!"

"Won't they be offended?"

"Let them think it's an exotic offworld custom. They expect offworlders to smell funny. Mark you, this place smells odd to me itself."

"How do you mean?"

"It's hard to say. The closest I can come is, it's not pure kzinti. Or not any pure kzinti I know. The large windows are the most obviously strange thing. I've never seen that in a major kzinti dwelling before."

"Different worlds, different styles, I suppose."

"Even the Patriarch's palace wouldn't have them so close to the ground. He must be very confident."

"Aren't all kzinti confident? Or fearless?"

"They try to be. If they have fears, only Telepaths know about it, which is one reason Telepaths of the Patriarchy are hated and despised-and short-lived. But big windows are a definite cultural statement… Our footprints in the snow as we came back-there was something odd there too, but I can't get my claws into it… Apart from a few slaves, who did we see as we returned?"

"Other kzinti."

"Yes, and they took you for granted."

"I hadn't thought of that!"

"Human slaves are not rare. Well, that may be understandable… But there was something else. By human standards kzinti culture is pretty uniform, with some local variations, but I get a feeling that there is something different here, something non-kzinti…" His voice trailed off.

"Can you be more precise?"

"I'm trying…gold…there's something…You don't really walk like a slave."

"I'm sorry."

"It could be fatal for you on some-probably most-kzinti worlds. But here you hardly rated a glance."

"I didn't realize you were watching like that."

"We must always watch like that! In this job the vigilant and the dead are the only kinds of operatives they are-though sometimes the vigilant are the dead all the same. Anyway, we've used fang paste for five generations and I'm not changing now."

"What if there is a telepath?"

"It would be dishonorable to use one on me unless he can be certain I've lied about something significant. And you may have noticed I've told as few direct lies as possible in case his ziirgrah picks them up. Even the occupation 'slave trader' can, with rationalization, be translated into something approximating the truth, since the Heroes' Tongue has no expression for our particular task."

"And does your own ziirgrah pick up anything?"

"This feeling of oddness, which, no, I can't be more precise about. And that he's keeping a lot back. When I mentioned 'honor'-which was a mistake, by the way; it's slightly bad form to talk about honor to a noble kzin-I felt an odd stiffening. As if he's doing something his own sense of honor is not entirely happy about. I must say that doesn't surprise me much. Any noble kzinti house tends to have plots and secrets, the more subtle and complex because kzinti hardly ever actually lie outright. It makes for certain tensions.

"But I can't see that any plots are remotely likely to be anything to do with us. I don't feel more suspicion emanating from him than kzintoshi usually feel in the presence of strangers like me. But if I feel anything I'll leap it back here and we'll be off. You'd better keep alert in case we have to move quickly."

"Don't you worry about that, I'll not be goofing off. A human doesn't on a kzinti world."

"It would be bad manners-and theft-for anyone else to eat you, unless I get into a duel and lose. Then my property becomes my conqueror's. But we may have to take off in a hurry. By the way, I take it you've noticed these." He pointed to dots of orange light circling the hologram of the planet.

"Orbiting spaceships."

"Yes, they still have a couple of battle wagons, though they look dead. My guess is they're either laid up or have small maintenance crews on board."

"Two ships aren't enough to do much."

"They're big enough to be carriers. And even if not, if they've got weapons systems functioning-and these are kzinti ships we're talking about, so they will have if they're alive at all-they could make any takeoff hairy. If you do have to lift on your own, keep well away from them."

"The alarms are set. All the cloaking devices are ready. And the missiles are armed."

"Good. But I don't think trespassers will be a problem. Now that I've been pissed on I'm formally Warrgh-Churrg's guest…though he might send agents to check if I'm telling the truth about the hyperdrive."

"That's a cheery thought. So I'm to wait here tonight listening for the pad of little cat feet while you're partying?"

"Yes. It goes with the territory. Keep your eyes on the sensors and lock yourself in the furthest possible cabin if anything gets in. At discretion, you are to take off. That is an order, by the way, and I'm formally recording it as such. You have your suicide pill if need be. It's unfortunate that buildings here are much closer together than they usually are on kzinti worlds, but you've got a clear field of vision round the ship… I wonder why the architecture is different?"

"Yes, now that you mention it, it looks different even to me."

"But if you think I'm dead, or it seems I can't get back to you, take off fast. I gather they have too few deep-space ships left now to keep many simply sitting around on standby, but the fact we've seen none docked doesn't mean there aren't any-from what he said, they have a few at least-and there are aircraft that could pursue, not to mention beams and missiles, plus whatever war satellites they may have put up in the past. I'm nearly sure those ships they've got in parking orbit are empty, or have only maintenance crews at most." The kzin wrinkled his ears thoughtfully. "But if we do have to run, they will wonder why we affected so much interest in the kz’eerkti here."

"But they won't know. The kz’eerkti will be no worse off than they are already."

"That's probably plenty bad enough, Perpetua. I think he'll let me join a hunt. Don't talk to me in English anymore. From now on I've got to think in the Heroes' Tongue."

"Good luck, Ginger."

"A Hero does not need luck. Snarr' grarrch."

"Urr."