by Timothy Zahn
Thrr't-rokik snorted. "You accuse your own leaders of lying yet assume a vicious would-be conqueror would tell you the truth?"
"I know it seems backward," Thrr-gilag conceded. "But he hung strongly to his story the whole time he was our prisoner. Longer than I would expect someone who knows he is lying would do."
For another few beats Thrr't-rokik was silent. "You're not just telling me all this to hear my opinions on the subject. What is it you want?"
Thrr-gilag braced himself. "Two of those survey ships were Kee'rr. I was hoping you could arrange for me to talk to one of the Elders who was aboard."
"I was afraid that was it," Thrr't-rokik said heavily. "Do you have any idea of the penalties involved with that sort of unauthorized communication?"
"I'm willing to take the risk," Thrr-gilag said.
"I wasn't thinking of your risk," Thrr't-rokik retorted icily. "I was thinking of the other Elder's. If Warrior Command caught him talking privately about sensitive warrior matters, they could summarily take his communicator position away from him. Are you willing to have that on your conscience?"
"Not really," Thrr-gilag said, feeling ashamed that that aspect hadn't even occurred to him. Withfsss -cutting techniques had come an exponential explosion in the number of jobs available for Elders, everything from the simple participation in interstellar communication pathways to the more demanding professional roles of planetary explorer or searcher assistant. But such jobs still numbered only in the low billions; and with well over three hundred billion Elders clamoring for some way to fill their time, the permanent loss of a job was not a threat to be taken lightly. "I'm sorry. I should have thought about that."
There was another pause. "This is very important to you, isn't it, my son?" Thrr't-rokik asked, his voice gentle again.
"Yes," Thrr-gilag said. "And worth a fair amount of risk. But for me, not for someone else."
Thrr't-rokik sighed, a whisper against the background breezes. "Wait here. I'll see what I can do."
He vanished. Thrr-gilag leaned against the predator fence, gazing out again at the woods and river. The woods, the river, and the never-ending problem of what to do with the ever-growing number of Elders.
On one side it could be seen as a simple problem of storage. The shrine towering behind him had enough niches for forty thousandfsss organs, and it had taken the Thrr family nearly two hundred cyclics to fill it to capacity. Another shrine, wherever it was put up, would probably do them for two centuries more.
But on the other side it was an incredibly complex issue, a problem that sliced through to the very soul of Zhirrzh culture. In generations past all Zhirrzh had lived comfortably together, with Elders moving freely through the homes and lives of their children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren. For many of the Elders that was the way it had always been and thus the way it should continue to be.
But nothing ever remained the same, not even with the weight of a thousand cyclics of tradition bearing down on it. And as the basic underlying conception of Zhirrzh society was changing, so too was the view of the Elders' role in it.
There was a flicker and Thrr't-rokik was back, another Elder at his side. "This is my son, Searcher Thrr-gilag," Thrr't-rokik said, gesturing to Thrr-gilag with his tongue. "He was one of the alien-research group studying the Human-Conqueror prisoner. This"-he gestured to his companion-"is Bvee't-hibbin, a distant cousin of your mother's line. He's one of the communicators aboard theFar Searcher."
Thrr-gilag felt his tail speed up. One of the four survey ships that had been in that first contact with the Humans. "Honored to meet you," he said.
"Yes," Bvee't-hibbin said, running an obviously critical eye over Thrr-gilag. "So you're the one. Perhaps you don't care, Searcher, but I consider you personally responsible for the fact that one of my great-great-nephews has arrived prematurely at the family shrine."
"Yes, I know," Thrr-gilag said, wincing again with painful memory of his failure. "Seven others were also raised to Eldership in the Humans' attack."
"Did you know as well that he is still without sanity?" Bvee't-hibbin demanded. "Seven fullarcs since his arrival, and he's still twisted in shock. Seven fullarcs; and no one will predict for his family when he'll be recovered."
"You can hardly blame Thrr-gilag for that," Thrr't-rokik put in gently. "Base World Twelve is two hundred fifty light-cyclics from Oaccanv. Drawn from such a distance, it was inevitable that his initial anchoring would be severely traumatic. It's the price we pay for our expansion to the stars."
The anger drained from Bvee't-hibbin's face, leaving only weariness behind. "Perhaps it's too high a price, Thrr't-rokik," he said with a whisper of a sigh. "Perhaps some fullarc we'll stretch too far and condemn new Elders to a madness that will never end."
"Perhaps," Thrr't-rokik said. "But that limit is still well beyond our current knowledge. If it exists at all. For myself, I have a great faith in the strength and resilience of the Zhirrzh spirit."
"Perhaps." Bvee't-hibbin seemed to draw himself together again. "I'm told you have questions, Searcher Thrr-gilag. What is it you wish to know that only I can tell you?"
"I spent a great deal of time with the Human prisoner, Communicator," Thrr-gilag said. "It was his contention that the Zhirrzh ships, not his, were the aggressors at the battle."
Bvee't-hibbin snorted. "And you believe an alien instead of your own leaders?"
"I want to make sure no mistake has been made," Thrr-gilag countered.
"Then listen and believe, Searcher Thrr-gilag," Bvee't-hibbin said bluntly. "I was there... and the Human-Conquerors most certainly attacked first."
"You're sure of that?" Thrr't-rokik asked.
"When a warcraft sweeps focused Elderdeath weapons across yourfsss cutting, it can hardly be mistaken for anything else," Bvee't-hibbin snapped. "And you'd both better hope you never have to feel that kind of pain yourselves."
His gaze drifted away. "It never stopped," he said, his voice almost too soft to hear. "Never. Their warcraft blanketed the whole region with the pain, their explosive missiles drove focused cones of it ahead of them-even after they were defeated and their warcraft burned to dust, they didn't let up the attack."
He looked up out of the memories at Thrr-gilag. "All except your prisoner. Alone of all of them he voluntarily shut off his Elderdeath weapon. That was what caught our commanders' notice in the first place. That, along with the fact that he was trying to move his spacecraft out of the battle region. Our ship commanders interpreted that as evidence of below-average aggression and decided to take him for further study."
His mouth twisted. "You saw how well that decision turned out."
Thrr-gilag nodded, a bitter taste beneath his tongue. So that was that. Pheylan Cavanagh had indeed known about the Elderdeath weapons-obviously, since he'd shut his off. And he'd been lying about it the whole time. "I see," he murmured.
"Was there anything else?" Bvee't-hibbin asked.
"No," Thrr-gilag said. Pheylan Cavanagh had lied to him. Somehow he still couldn't believe it. "Thank you, Bvee't-hibbin. I and my family are in your debt and your family's."
"I wouldn't commit your family to too much if I were you," Bvee't-hibbin suggested, the first hint of humor peeking through his stiff manner. "Particularly not with the trouble you're in right now. I wish you good luck, though. If only for the honor of the Kee'rr."
"Thank you," Thrr-gilag said dryly. "I'll do my best not to let the Kee'rr down."
"Farewell." Bvee't-hibbin nodded and vanished.
"Does that set your fears at rest?" Thrr't-rokik asked.
"I suppose," Thrr-gilag said reluctantly. "Now if I could just answer the question of whether or not the Humans have Elders of their own."
"Yes, I heard about the stir you caused in the Overclan Seating with that suggestion," Thrr't-rokik said. "Do you really believe that might be true, or were you just trying to carve a slice out of their complacence?"
"I certainly wasn't trying to slice anythi
ng," Thrr-gilag said. "Whether there's any truth to it, I really don't know."
"Their use of Elderdeath weapons doesn't necessarily mean anything," his father pointed out. "All the alien races the Zhirrzh have encountered have attacked us that same way, and yet none of them have had Elders."
"I know," Thrr-gilag said. "But there's more. The fact that they used the Elderdeath weapons directly against the study group's pyramid on Study World Eighteen, for example, implies they knew what they were doing. Plus thatfsss -sized incision in the Human prisoner's lower torso, which has yet to be explained. That was one of the reasons I didn't want him killed during his escape attempt, by the way. If they have Elders, that would merely have sent him back home."
"Yes," Thrr't-rokik said thoughtfully. "And of course there was the theft of Prr't-zevisti'sfsss cutting from the Dorcas beachhead."
Thrr-gilag felt his tail twitch. "So that one's gotten around, too."
"You weren't expecting it to?" his father countered. "That was not a wise thing for you to talk about, Thrr-gilag."
"I know," Thrr-gilag sighed. "Certain members of the Overclan Seating were none too happy about it, either."
"More unhappy than you know," Thrr't-rokik said darkly. "I'm starting to hear rumors that the leaders and Elders of the Dhaa'rr are beginning to reconsider their approval of your bond-engagement to Klnn-dawan-a."
Thrr-gilag stared at him, his midlight pupils contracting to slits. "They can't do that," he protested. "They've already agreed to it."
"I know," Thrr't-rokik said. "But between your trouble on Base World Twelve and your brother Thrr-mezaz's role in the loss of Prr't-zevisti, the Dhaa'rr are furious with the whole Thrr family. And considering how unenthusiastic most of the Elders were about allowing a Dhaa'rr and Kee'rr to bond in the first place..." He flicked his tongue in a negative.
Thrr-gilag pressed his tongue hard against the inside of his mouth. He'd suspected from the start that it was his mishandling of things that had kept the Dhaa'rr leaders from assigning Klnn-dawan-a to the Mrachani study group, settling on the vastly less competent Gll-borgiv instead. But this was a blow he had somehow never anticipated. "Has there been any official action yet?" he asked.
"Not that I've heard of," Thrr't-rokik said. "I take it you're going to try to head it off?"
"You take it right," Thrr-gilag said, the shock of betrayal beginning to give way to an icy anger. He and Klnn-dawan-a had had to fight uphill once already against the Elders-from both their clans-and these stupid antiquated prejudices against interclan bonding. Now, it seemed, they were going to have to do it all over again. "I have to get in touch with Klnn-dawan-a right away. Let her know what's going on."
"I suggest you speak with her in person," Thrr't-rokik warned. "If the Dhaa'rr Elders find out you know, they're likely to push the clan leaders all the harder."
"Yes, I know," Thrr-gilag said. "The problem is, she's out on Gree with a group studying the Chig. That's a two-fullarc round trip right there."
"Is your timing that tight?"
"It's reasonably tight, yes," Thrr-gilag said. "But it's what I've got, and I'll just have to make do." He hesitated. "You haven't said what the response of Klnn-dawan-a's immediate family has been."
"I haven't heard anything one way or the other about them," Thrr't-rokik said. "But unless you hear otherwise, I'd suggest you assume they're still behind you. Klnn-dawan-a's family are good people." He paused. "And of course it goes without saying that your own immediate family will support you."
"Thank you," Thrr-gilag said. "That helps."
"It supplies some emotional support, at any rate," his father said. "I only wish one of our two families had more political pull with our respective clans. A lifetime of work in ceramics design does not exactly heap up huge piles of favors. Especially with-"
He broke off, flicking his tongue in an oddly impatient gesture. "You'd better get moving if you're going to make it to Gree and back," he said, his voice suddenly brisk. "If you have time, stop back and see me before you go off to whatever the Overclan Seating has scheduled next for you. I presume you know that you don't have to come all the way out here to speak with me, by the way. As long as you're within a hundred thoustrides of the shrine, you can call Thrr-tulkoj or one of the other protectors on the direct-link and they can send me to wherever you are."
"I know," Thrr-gilag assured him. "And one way or the other, I promise I'll talk to you after I get back from Gree."
"Good. In the meantime I have friends with access to Unity City. I'll see what other information I can dig up."
"All right," Thrr-gilag said. "You know, you really ought to consider having a cutting taken. You could get yourself a niche in a pyramid near Unity City and watch all this political stuff directly instead of having to sift through rumors."
Again his father's tongue flicked oddly. "No, I don't think so," he said. "Not now. Tell me, are you going to see your mother before you go?"
"I'd planned to," Thrr-gilag said, frowning at the abrupt change of topic. "Thrr-mezaz told me she'd moved out to Reeds Village?"
"Yes," Thrr't-rokik said. "About thirty fullarcs ago. You were out on Study World Fifteen during the preparations; and then this whole Human-Conqueror thing came up, and you were rushed out to Base World Twelve."
"Yes, I've been busy," Thrr-gilag said, studying his father's transparent face. "Hardly out of touch, though. What is it you and Thrr-mezaz aren't telling me?"
Thrr't-rokik looked away. "Perhaps it would be best if you spoke with her for yourself," he said. "If you have time, that is. This matter with Klnn-dawan-a should take precedence."
"My family takes precedence," Thrr-gilag told him firmly. "I'll make the time."
It was only a five-hunbeat walk to the rail stop near the shrine. Three cars were waiting there on the siding; climbing into the first, Thrr-gilag fed in his value number and keyed for the main nexus at Cliffside Dales. The car beeped its acceptance and eased onto the main rail, and they were off.
There was a flicker, and an Elder appeared in front of him. "You are Thrr-gilag; Kee'rr?" he asked.
"Yes," Thrr-gilag said.
"I was told you wanted information on space-flight schedules," the Elder said briskly. "When, and to where?"
"As soon as possible," Thrr-gilag said, wondering what had taken the travel communicator so long to get out there to him. He'd put in the request with Thrr-tulkoj before leaving the shrine. "Destination is the planet Gree."
"Gree?" The Elder seemed taken aback. "That's a Chig world."
"There are indeed large numbers of Chig on it," Thrr-gilag agreed. "Along with a few hundred Zhirrzh in about fifty study groups."
The Elder sniffed. "The proper study of Zhirrzh is Zhirrzh," he said primly. "What anyone thinks they're going to find on a planet full of aliens I'll never know."
"I'm sure you won't," Thrr-gilag said, not trying overly hard to hide his disgust. With Human forces gathering against the Zhirrzh like storm clouds over a field of grain, it should be blindingly obvious that the ability to understand alien cultures was going to be of critical importance in the fullarcs ahead. Obviously, there were still Zhirrzh too stupid to understand that. "Just check the schedule for me, please."
The Elder sniffed again and was gone. Thrr-gilag turned back to the window, running the numbers through his mind. One fullarc each way to Gree; six and a half until he needed to check in again with Nzz-oonaz and the rest of the Mrachani study group. That left barely four and a half fullarcs to try to get all this straightened out.
He gazed at the scenery going past outside, a twinge of guilt tugging at him. He really ought to call the Overclan before he headed off-world this way. The Overclan, or at the very least Nzz-oonaz. Let someone in authority know where he was going and what he was doing.
But if he did that, Speaker Cvv-panav would almost certainly find out about it. And he'd either summarily cancel Thrr-gilag's trip or else push the Dhaa'rr clan leaders to move even more quickly on their repudiati
on of his bond-engagement to Klnn-dawan-a. Or both.
Besides, there was no reason why anyone in Unity City would need him for the next few fullarcs. The Mrachani bodies weren't going to need any more examination, and Nzz-oonaz surely had the study group's end of the upcoming voyage under control. And if for some reason he needed help, Gll-borgiv and the Dhaa'rr would be more than happy to assist.
And anyway, Thrr-gilag would be back well before the time he'd been told to return. No, best just to keep it quiet.
With a flicker the Elder was back. "A warrior supply flight leaves for the Gree encirclement forces in seven tentharcs," he growled. "It'll be lifting from the warrior field at Pathgate; flight time approximately nine tentharcs. Do you wish a place reserved for you?"
