The Damned Trilogy

by Alan Dean Foster

  It wasn’t very heavy, but it was made well. Cupped tightly within and propelled by the force of her right wingtip, it added just enough mass to make the blow effective. The actual wing motion was drawn from an adolescent mating dance, but it simulated a Human punch well enough. She was familiar with the physical mechanism from her studies.

  As she made contact, pain exploded up the length of her wing, momentarily paralyzing her right side. The startled Lepar fared worse, the impact smashing a cheekbone and crushing an eye. He staggered on his short legs, the thick tail stiffening reflexively to provide additional support. She saw his fingers convulse on the injector, closed her eyes as she heard it emit a soft phut.

  The high-velocity dose missed her chest and splatted harmlessly against the wall behind her. By then she was on top of the Lepar, knocking him to the floor. The impact further dazed him and she was able to wrest the weapon from his limp fingers.

  Though it was designed for manipulation by bony digits, she was able to grasp the simple device with the flexible quill-tips of her left wing. Cyclically reciting her most dynamic control mantra, she rose and stood looking down at her reluctant assassin. The Lepar blinked up at her out of his remaining good eye, his tail twitching convulsively back and forth beneath him.

  “How extraordinary. Had I not experienced such a thing, I would not have thought it possible. What are you going to do now?”

  She was surprised to discover she didn’t know. Everything had happened very fast, and now sanity was returning with a rush. She started to shake violently.

  Taking note of her reaction, the Lepar started to get to its feet. Blood trickled from the left side of its face, marring the sad, frozen smile. “You cannot kill me. You are Wais, who pride themselves on being the most civilized of all species.” A webbed hand reached toward her. “Give back the weapon. The drug works painlessly. Let us put an end to all this, for both our sakes.”

  She stumbled backward. “You, too, are ‘civilized.’”

  “Yes. But we are just scared and simpleminded enough to get around it. Having attained a much higher level of civilization, you are not.” The hand remained extended expectantly; fingers open, mottled green-black palm turned upward.

  “You forget one thing. I have spent years working intimately with Humans. My friends, my family, my triad, and my colleagues have insisted all along that this has had a permanent and deleterious effect on me. Always I disputed them. Now I am afraid I must admit that they were right.”

  The Lepar blinked its remaining eye once as the little gun went off for the second time, making a sound like some small cuddly creature sneezing into its own fur. The capacious mouth gaped wide, showing a wet black gullet. No sound emerged.

  It sat down heavily. “I was correctly informed. There is no pain.” She eyed him insensibly. “What a pity that the toxin is not species-specific.” Slowly it toppled over onto its left side. “Most interesting.” The black eye gazed unblinkingly up at her. She wanted to turn away, to run, but she could not. Horrified fascination kept her transfixed to the spot.

  “You should not have been capable of doing that.” She had to strain to hear the weakly gargled words. “This will complicate things.” The voice sank toward inaudibility.

  After that the Lepar said nothing more, nor did any part of its body move again.

  Shakily she walked around the corpse, not taking her eyes off it for a second, and finally sat down on the edge of the nest. She watched the motionless form for over an hour. Feeling reasonably safe at that point, she put the deceptively innocuous-looking weapon down and walked to the apartment’s hygiene alcove. Inclining her neck and head over the disposal, she proceeded to violently evacuate the contents of her stomach and crop into the pastel, scented receptacle.

  When she’d finished, she washed and groomed herself as best she could and began to pack her belongings, not neglecting to include the deadly little gun. Whoever encountered the lifeless Lepar would discover that it had died of heart failure. The deception intended to disguise the true cause of her own death would serve equally well for her would-be assassin.

  The medication that allowed her to work intimately and for extended periods with Human beings served to mask her nervousness as she departed the tense confines of the compound. Wholly absorbed by the inexplicable deaths of the Amplitur and two senior Human officers, none of the staff paid any attention to the decision of a visiting Wais scholar to depart. Amid the confusion she doubted if anyone would even bother to remark on the subsequent demise of a Lepar worker who had clearly died a natural death.

  Except perhaps his fellow frightened, simpleminded Lepar. The Lepar who watched, and listened, and said little, but who occasionally acted. The Lepar who had never managed to master Underspace on their own and had to be conveyed by more technologically competent species from world to world. The Lepar who in that manner had succeeded in spreading themselves unobtrusively throughout the length and breadth of the Weave. Those Lepar.

  What had he said? she reflected from the safety of her room aboard the Underspace liner hovering in orbit. That she, Lalelelang, was possibly the most dangerous individual alive?

  The Lepar hadn’t said anything about the traitorous Turlog. Was it possible the amphibians had never discovered that particular duplicity? Maybe it was true that only she knew all the secrets.

  All she wanted was to be left alone with her work.

  As the transship entered Underspace, she felt a pang of regret for the deceased Straat-ien, with whom she had shared many difficulties and much time. He had represented his species admirably. Now she would be forever deprived of his unique viewpoint.

  No matter. Her research would go on without him.

  Among the ship’s crew were several Lepar. She kept a wary eye on them, but there was nothing to indicate that she was the focus of any unusual attention on their part or on the part of anyone else aboard. She had made her escape from Daccar with commendable speed.

  Would they now seek her out on her homeworld? Lepar worked in the main cities, but they were not a common sight. None presently served at the university. How much would they dare, and how boldly? Or would they seek allies to carry out her assassination? A renegade Massood, perhaps, though a Human was a more likely candidate. Wasn’t that how they had originally entered the war, as soldiers for hire? That would be ironic. A Human would be even more conspicuous in her environs than a lethally minded Lepar.

  She was neither innocent nor helpless, and her distinctive experiences had taught her much. There were steps she could take to protect herself.

  XXII

  Much time passed and the Lepar did not move against her, nor did they send a homicidal surrogate in their stead. Perhaps it was because they had chosen to go slowly, perhaps because they wanted to be completely sure of themselves before taking such a serious and potentially maladroit step. Certainly they would have wondered, and worried, about the circumstances of their Daccaran agent’s unexpected death. It hinted at a dangerous gap in their knowledge, which they would typically want to fill before acting.

  She prepared as best she could.

  Half a year passed from the time of her flight from Daccar before the two Lepar appeared. Attired as sanitation specialists, they went to work on the university’s water systems, something they were uniquely equipped to do. Though she passed by in clear view, neither looked in her direction.

  Though she harbored no illusions as to their true intentions, she did not vary her routine, maintaining her daily schedule in the face of the unspoken threat. Friends commented on her heightened state of alertness, on the tension she seemed to be under. She thanked them for their empathy even as she dismissed their concerns without elaboration.

  The visiting workers remained cautious. It was not until the end of the season that her office door trilled one evening when she was working late. The external pickup revealed the simpleminded face of one of the two Lepar, black eyes doleful, its ingenuous expression wholly disarming. Respondi
ng to her query, it informed her that their work had brought them to this end of her building, and that in order to proceed they required a few moments’ access to her office.

  Which, she reflected sagely, was no doubt the truth.

  “We will not trouble you for long,” it said via the door speaker. Also doubtless a truthful statement.

  Declining to comply would only delay the inevitable in addition to confirming anything they might suspect. She had completed a general catalog of her research, and both her personal and professional lives had been put in order. In a way she was relieved. She was very tired.

  She passed a wingtip over a visual switch, and the door slid back to admit them.

  They were attired for aqueous service. Long vests and belts held sealed pouches that bulged with equipment. The one who had spoken waddled into the office and without a word strode past her, making for the hygienic cubicle located in a rear alcove. His companion followed and adopted a casual stance close to the doorway, gazing with genuine interest at the depth images which decorated the walls.

  “We will not be long.” Its gurgling voice betrayed no ulterior motive. “We have to check out pressure and flow here before proceeding to the next office.”

  Lalelelang had not moved from atop the work nest behind the delicate, sculpted arc of her workstation. “You have to do nothing of the sort. You are here to kill me.”

  A flat, bulbous face peered out of the hygienic alcove, ebon eyes shimmering in the lights. Outside her single window a carnivorous Vhastas glider passed just below the rising moon, the fluorescent running lights of the nocturnal flier a flash of lambent green in the darkness. Within the office there was total silence until the Lepar at the door spoke anew.

  “What a strange thing to say, Honored Scholar.”

  “Is it? You intend to murder me, but you want to be sure of yourselves first. I believe the Lepar never act without first making sure.

  “Obviously you have sought an explanation for the death of your colleague on Daccar. He had been trying to kill me and instead he was the one who died. In my quarters. Whereupon I left Daccar rather hurriedly. I knew that despite your initial disbelief you would eventually settle on me as the cause through the simple process of patiently investigating and eliminating every other possibility. I am only surprised that you did not arrive here sooner.”

  The amphibian stared wordlessly. The first speaker emerged from the cubicle holding a weapon in one hand. She examined it with practiced detachment. Fashioned entirely of nonmetallic components, it was larger than the one she had been threatened with not so very long ago on Daccar. Nor was its shape as subtle. No attempt had been made by its makers to disguise its purpose. As the armed individual stepped to one side, his companion drew a similar device from a vest pocket.

  What would be the method this time? More poison, shells, internally explosive pellets, or something she could not imagine? Not that it would matter.

  “Your colleague was going to kill me. So I had to kill him.”

  “We are curious as to how you managed it.” The second speaker was now blocking the sealed doorway with his body. “It was not believed that any Wais possessed such capabilities.”

  “I salute your ignorance.” Death’s proximity inspired her to flights of fatalistic wit. “I may be the only one.”

  The gun-wielder emitted a deep-throated grunt of satisfaction. The sound carried as well through the air as it did underwater. “We welcome your confirmation. Now I will kill you.” The muzzle of the weapon rose.

  “You cannot.”

  “Would you end your life on an argument?” But the Lepar at the door made a gesture and his companion paused.

  “Why not?” he asked.

  “There are a number of reasons. Did you think I would do nothing but wait quietly for representatives of your kind to locate and kill me at their leisure? Did you believe that having defended myself once I would never do so again?”

  “Since our arrival on Mahmahar we have many times checked this entire building and especially this room. There are no protective mechanisms in evidence. No intricate alarms, no automatic weaponry, no voice or motion-activated transmitters. Nothing. Also, there are two of us and we are both armed. Whatever went wrong on Daccar will not be repeated here. You are defenseless.”

  “No, I’m not.” Her beak clicked lightly and even her crest lay passively flat against the back of her head. The two intruders exchanged a glance. “You place much confidence in unsupported words,” the one at the door declared.

  “And you place too much in procedure and preparation. Ever since you arrived on my world you’ve been monitoring my movements. Did you think I was incapable of monitoring yours?”

  She glanced to her right. The door to a rear storage alcove opened and a Human soldier stepped out. The Lepar blocking the door blinked slowly in the manner of his kind while his companion took an involuntary step backward. He carefully lowered his weapon. This was sensible, because the young Human female was fully armed and could go off at any moment. She towered over all of them.

  “What do you want to me do, Scholar?” she growled in combat Huma.

  “For now, nothing.” Lalelelang regarded her visitors. “This is Pila. In addition to being a fully trained soldier, she is also a member of the Core.

  “The Human Core member Nevan Straat-ien was for many years a good and true friend of mine. I knew very little about his family and relations, but I thought I at least owed it to them to relate the circumstances of his death. Furthermore, since I was informed that the Lepar can resist their probes as well as those of the Amplitur, and that your people were aware of their existence and suggestive abilities, I felt that it was only fair to share this information with the Humans of the Core.” She paused to allow everything she had said to sink in.

  When she felt sufficient time had passed, she continued. “So now you know about them, and they know about you, and everyone concerned can deal with each other from a more equal perch.”

  “This is madness.” The Lepar near the cubicle tried to divide his attention between the composed Wais and the edgily alert and very imposing Human. “Do you realize what you have done? This one will kill all three of us.”

  “I told you that the Human Straat-ien trusted me. In volunteering everything I know to his friends, I have gained their trust as well. Pila trusts me. If I were you, I would do nothing to upset her. She was very close to Straat-ien.”

  Noting that she wore one of the omnipresent translators, the Lepar at the door directed his attention to the soldier. “Don’t your people recognize the danger that this individual represents? If we eliminate her we can still preserve our secrets among ourselves.”

  The Human only smiled. Both Lepar shuddered instinctively.

  Lalelelang proceeded to try and reassure them. “There is no need for any more uncivilized bloodshed. The Core does not trust you, and I know that you respect but do not necessarily trust the Core.”

  “How could we?” opined the door guard. “They are Human.”

  “Precisely. But they do trust me. If you will only grant me equal respect, then both sides will have gained something of great value: a mediator.”

  “You?” The would-be assassin goggled at her. “You are a scholar, not a diplomat.”

  “What is diplomacy but experience mated to common sense? I am Wais. I favor neither Human nor Lepar. I am better prepared to assume such a role than any representative of any of the intelligent species. Not that I wish it. I do not wish it. But it has been thrust upon me and I do not see how I can turn away.” She paused for breath. “There are rare, isolated moments in one’s life when one devoutly wishes one could act in an uncivilized fashion. For that much, if naught else, I envy Humankind.” A long, melancholy whistle escaped her.

  “All I ever wanted was to study. To accumulate knowledge and from that distill wisdom. I do not want to play diplomat or go-between or peacemaker. Circumstances have thrust this on me.”

  The Lepa
r at the door addressed Lalelelang while warily eyeing the soldier. “Are you going to have her kill us?” He made no movement with the handgun he held, knowing that the slightest suggestion of a hostile gesture would visit instant death upon him and his companion.

  “No!” The violence of her response startled everyone in the room, including her Human protector. “I have been directly responsible for the death of another intelligent being only once in my life. Even though I acted only to preserve my own, I found it an extraordinarily disagreeable experience that I will never forget. I have no desire to endure it again.” Her heavily painted lashes fluttered.

  “What are the goals here? You wish to ensure your own security and keep your secret from as much of the Weave and our former enemies as possible. You have no reason to fear the Core Humans because you can resist their suggestions. If you moved to reveal their secret they would turn on you. Maybe you can resist them mentally, but you would still have to deal with their more blatantly Human capabilities.”

  “See,” the first Lepar said to the Human. “She is trying to play us off against one another to preserve her own life.”

  “My life? My life?” she repeated more softly. “For the sake of knowledge I have voluntarily put my life at risk of death by violence from actual combat, something no Lepar has ever done. I have been now twice threatened by your kind. I have given up on my life many times over. I am not afraid to put it at risk in this cause.”

  “Kill her.” The Lepar at the door addressed the soldier earnestly. “She is a complication. We can work everything out between us without need of a dangerous intermediary. While she lives she holds the threat of revelation over both our kind.”

  Never taking its eyes off the two amphibians, the Human spoke for the second time. “No. She’s useful. Nevan … Colonel Straat-ien thought so, and my superiors concur. She’s played linear with us, and she’s fixed things neat.” The soldier regarded the nesting Wais with a mixture of awe and admiration. “You don’t know everything. She’s fixed things so that it’s more dangerous to kill her than keep her alive.”