by Timothy Zahn
"Walk carefully, Speaker," the Prime warned him quietly. "Inflammatory accusations can be as damaging as any security breach."
"So can the appearance of impropriety, Overclan Prime," Cvv-panav countered. He glanced at Thrr-gilag, as if suddenly remembering that there was a low-level witness sitting in on this high-level argument. "But this isn't the time for such discussions," he added. "We should instead be seeing if our prisoners are ready to answer some questions."
"Yes," the Prime said. "Communicator?"
An Elder appeared. "Yes, Overclan Prime?"
"Go speak with the healers in the medical center. See if all is prepared."
"I obey."
Thrr-gilag cleared his throat. "I would remind the Overclan Prime that the prisoners are still very weak," he said. "If pushed too hard, they may die."
"All the more reason to question them while we can," the Prime said. "In any event, that decision is now in the hands of Searcher Nzz-oonaz."
Thrr-gilag felt his tail twirling faster. "May I assume, then, that I've been removed as speaker of the mission?" he asked, just to make it official.
"Be thankful you haven't been removed from the mission entirely," Cvv-panav put in acidly, his tone making it clear that he'd argued for precisely that outcome. "By all rights, the escape of your Human prisoner should have earned you far more than simply a demotion. A public censure at the least; perhaps even criminal charges."
The Elder reappeared. "All is prepared, Overclan Prime," he said. "The healers and alien-specialist group are waiting."
"Very good," the Prime said, rising from his couch. "Speakers, Searcher: come."
The medical center turned out to be a somewhat more compact version of the room on Base World 12 that the technics had hurriedly converted into a prison for Pheylan Cavanagh. In the middle of the room, lying on rolling beds and covered by a portable glass security dome, were the two prisoners. Nearly forty Zhirrzh were present, busy at the various monitoring consoles along the walls or gathered four-deep around the dome gazing at the aliens. Thrr-gilag spotted Svv-selic and Nzz-oonaz standing beside the glass, along with a number of the technics and healers who'd been with them on Base World 12. Only a handful of the observers appeared to be Speakers from the Overclan Seating.
And standing off to one side, Thrr-gilag spotted someone else, someone he hadn't seen for several cyclics. Gll-borgiv, an alien specialist from the Dhaa'rr clan.
"Searcher Nzz-oonaz will perform the interrogation," the Prime said as a technic by the door handed each of the newcomers a translator-link earphone. They crossed to the dome, a respectful path opening up for them through the crowd as they did so. For a few beats the Prime gazed at the aliens, then nodded to Nzz-oonaz. "You may begin."
"I obey, Overclan Prime," Nzz-oonaz said, sounding more than a little nervous. "During their brief conscious period back on Base World Twelve we established that they spoke at least some of the language of our Human prisoner. I'll try that first."
He pressed a little more closely against the dome and cleared his throat self-consciously. "Aliens of the Mrachani," he said in the Human language. "I am Nzz-oonaz; Flii'rr. Can you hear me?"
For a dozen beats nothing happened. Then, slowly, one of the aliens opened his eyes. "I hear," he said, his voice almost too soft to hear. A beat later the words were echoed by the translator-link in Thrr-gilag's ear slits. "I am Uhraus. Ambassador to your people from the Mrachanis."
"Did he sayambassador?" Hgg-spontib muttered from beside Thrr-gilag, pressing his translator-link tighter against the side of his head.
"Yes," Thrr-gilag confirmed, frowning at the aliens. Yet according to the warriors who'd captured it, the alien spacecraft had opened fire on them with the same Elderdeath weapons the Humans had used.
Nzz-oonaz was obviously thinking along the same lines. "Do Mrachani ambassadors usually attack unknown spacecraft on sight?" he demanded.
For another few beats the Mrachani's gaze seemed to drift around the crowd gathered before him. Almost, Thrr-gilag thought oddly, like a dramatist measuring an audience before beginning his performance. "We came to bring warning," the alien sighed at last, closing his eyes tiredly. "And to offer the assistance of the Mrachanis in your struggle against theMirnacheem-hyeea."
Nzz-oonaz threw Thrr-gilag a questioning look. Thrr-gilag flicked his tongue in a negative: the word didn't mean anything to him. "What is thisMirnacheem-hyeea you speak of?" Nzz-oonaz asked.
"TheMirnacheem-hyeea are those who attempt to dominate all within their reach," the Mrachani said. "In their language the name means Conquerors Without Reason." He opened his eyes, closed them again. "The Humans."
Conquerors Without Reason.Thrr-gilag let the words roll around in his mind, tasting the implications. Ominous implications, indeed.
"We appreciate your warning," Nzz-oonaz said. "What assistance do the Mrachanis offer?"
"The Mrachanis need your help," the alien murmured, his voice fading even further. "We need your-" He took a deep, shuddering breath. "Help."
"What assistance do the Mrachanis offer?" Nzz-oonaz repeated.
There was no answer. "Healer?" Nzz-oonaz asked, looking over his shoulder at one of the consoles.
"He's gone back to sleep," the healer reported. "And their metabolic efficiency appears to be dropping again. Shall I attempt to awaken them?"
Nzz-oonaz looked at the Prime. "Overclan Prime?"
The Prime was gazing at the aliens, his face hard. "How much risk would there be to their lives, Healer?"
"I don't know," the healer admitted. "We still know very little about their biochemistry."
"We won't risk it, then," the Prime said. "Let them sleep, and we'll continue the interrogation later. I want a full watch to be kept, healers and Elders both."
"I obey," the healer said. Gesturing to a technic, he began issuing orders.
Cvv-panav took a step closer to the Prime. "I should like to continue our discussion of last fullarc, Overclan Prime," he said. Quietly, but with a note of insistence in his voice.
"No need," the Prime said, turning to Hgg-spontib. "I'm sure Speaker Hgg-spontib will not argue that this contact has grown far beyond the proprietary rights of the clans who first contacted the Humans." He looked over at the sleeping aliens. "Or perhaps we should call them the Human-Conquerors," he amended grimly. "It appears that would be a more appropriate name. At any rate, I'm assigning Gll-borgiv; Dhaa'rr, to this study group."
"I protest, of course," Hgg-spontib said. "The Dhaa'rr have yet to suffer any damage at the hands of either of these alien species. If any new searchers are added, they should be from the Cakk'rr, who at least have the claim of having captured these Mrachanis for us."
"I've already discussed the matter with the Speaker for Cakk'rr," Cvv-panav put in. "There is no searcher of the Cakk'rr of adequate expertise. She has therefore agreed to defer to the Dhaa'rr in this matter." His tongue twitched. "As the Overclan Prime said earlier, nothing connected with a war can be considered the exclusive property of a single family or clan."
Thrr-gilag pressed the tip of his tongue against the roof of his mouth, keeping his mouth firmly shut. The Zhirrzh alien-specialist community was a reasonably small group, and he could name at least three Cakk'rr experts right off the end of his tongue who would be capable of working with the Mrachanis. Clearly, putting a Dhaa'rr on the group was a political decision, not a scientific one.
"The Kee'rr still protest," Hgg-spontib said in the tone of one who knows a lost battle when he's lost it. "And what of Searcher Thrr-gilag?"
"The Dhaa'rr insist on a full investigation," Cvv-panav put in before the Prime could answer. "The escape of the Human-the Human-Conqueror-must be properly examined."
"Your insistence is premature," the Prime told him. "An inquiry board is examining all the records from Base World Twelve. Until they come to a decision, Searcher Thrr-gilag will be permitted to observe all proceedings involving the Mrachani aliens."
"But not to speak to them,
" Cvv-panav insisted.
"Proper protocol will of course be followed," the Prime said. "He may offer questions through Searcher Nzz-oonaz." He looked at Thrr-gilag. "Do you accept these limitations?"
As if he had a real choice. "I do," Thrr-gilag said, a flush of shame twitching through his tail. Svv-selic had let Too'rr domination of this mission slip from his grasp by letting the Human prisoner get too close to the Elders' pyramid. Now Thrr-gilag's mistake had similarly lost the speakership for the Kee'rr clan.
How long would it be, he wondered, before Nzz-oonaz made his mistake and Cvv-panav demanded that Gll-borgiv and the Dhaa'rr take charge? He doubted it would be very long.
"You look as if you have something else to say, Searcher," Cvv-panav said, an edge of challenge to his voice.
"No," Thrr-gilag said, resolutely turning away. Arguing any of this would just give them an excuse to throw him off the mission completely. "With the Overclan Prime's permission, I'd like to leave the complex for a time."
"What of the aliens?" the Prime asked. "If they should awaken, you'd be needed."
So at least the Prime still thought of him as a useful part of the group, even if Cvv-panav didn't. That was something, anyway. "If our shipboard experiences are a guide, they should sleep at least four or five tentharcs," Thrr-gilag said.
"Very well," the Prime said. "You may leave, but I don't want you more than a few hunbeats away from this room. And be certain to update your location with the servers at the Overclan shrine."
"I obey," Thrr-gilag said. He turned away, easing through the crowd toward the door-
"One other thing," the Prime's voice said quietly from beside him.
Thrr-gilag looked over, a bit startled. He hadn't realized the Prime had followed him. "Yes, Overclan Prime?"
"There are certain things you and your group are aware of that have not been released to the general Zhirrzh public," the Prime said.
Thrr-gilag winced. Yes; Prr't-zevisti. "I understand fully," he assured the Prime. "I'll be careful not to say anything outside the complex."
"I'm sure you understand the sort of thing I'm talking about," the Prime went on as if he hadn't spoken. "Stories that would spread rumors and fear. Panic, even, particularly among those who are unaware of the full scope of the countermeasures Warrior Command is taking." He gazed hard at Thrr-gilag. "And I don't refer only to those outside the Overclan complex."
Thrr-gilag frowned at him. What in the eighteen worlds was the Prime getting at?
And then, abruptly, he got it. CIRCE. The Humans' ultimate weapon. Long ago disassembled, according to the captured Human recorder, with its components scattered among several planets of their empire for safekeeping. If they were allowed the time to collect those components and reassemble them once more into a functioning weapon...
The Prime was still studying his face. "You understand," he said.
"Yes," Thrr-gilag said, his tongue flicking in a shiver. He understood, all right. If even a hint leaked out at this point that their enemies had a weapon against which there might not be any defense at all...
He looked sharply at the Prime, the other's almost offhanded comment suddenly registering.Not only those outside the Overclan complex... "May I inquire," he asked carefully, "who among the Zhirrzh are aware of this aspect?"
"I am," the Prime said. "So are a handful of the supreme commanders at Warrior Command, the former Overclan Primes, and perhaps thirty other high-security Elders. Plus your alien-study group, of course."
Thrr-gilag pressed his tongue hard against the inside of his mouth. "And the Overclan Seating?"
The Prime didn't flinch. "It would not be advisable for them to know as yet."
"I see," Thrr-gilag murmured. Suddenly it all made sense, this mad rush to throw beachheads and encirclement forces at the Human worlds. Warrior Command wasn't looking for territory to conquer; it was trying desperately to capture or entrap one or more of CIRCE's components before the Humans could gather them together.
And in the meantime the Overclan Prime was trying equally hard to prevent Zhirrzh society from exploding into hysterical terror at the thought of the potential genocide facing them. And if that meant hiding the truth from even the Overclan Seating, then that was what they were going to do.
"You understand the situation," the Prime said. "I could lock you and the others away somewhere, but that would attract unwelcome attention and questions. So for the time being you're free to move about; but be assured that if you tell anyone about this thing, you and your whole family will suffer greatly. Do you understand?"
"I do," Thrr-gilag managed. "And if I may say so, Overclan Prime, there's no need to make threats. I understand as well as you the need to avoid a panic."
"Just so long as we understand each other," the Prime said. "Where exactly will you be going right now?"
"Just to get something to eat," Thrr-gilag said. "There's a place nearby called the Lapper's Paradise I thought I'd try."
"Very well," the Prime said. "But I meant what I said about staying close to the complex. These Mrachani aliens may hold the key to our survival against the Human-Conquerors."
Survival.Previous Overclan Primes throughout history, facing other aggressive alien races, had spoken not of survival but of victory. Or so the histories said.
But then, none of their other alien enemies had ever had a weapon like CIRCE. "I understand," Thrr-gilag said quietly. "I'll be close."
3
The Lapper's Paradise, Thrr-gilag had once heard, claimed to be the largest and best patronized full-service tavern in all of the eighteen worlds. He didn't know whether that was literally true, but certainly the establishment had both the floor space and the population base to take a good slash at the title. Located just across the main public thoroughfare that ran past the west side of the Overclan complex, the Paradise drew from the Speakers and aides of the Overclan Seating as well as from the population of Unity City itself, a population made up largely of the Overclan family members who served as the complex's permanent staff. From the way the crowd was packing into the tavern, it looked as if a goodly slice of that population was already there. Drinking, eating, and talking.
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 th
em have the mess. See how farthey 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."
