by Timothy Zahn
"I don't actually know anything," Bronski said. He rubbed a sleeve across his forehead, wiping away sweat that had collected despite the coolness of the cell. "I'm following up on the impressions Pheylan had of his captors. He was pretty sure he'd gotten Thrr-gilag thinking about what the Zhirrzh leaders had told them about the Jutland attack. He thought there was a good chance he would look into the matter, maybe spread some of his doubts around to the other Zhirrzh." He gestured toward the ceiling. "This Elder seems to know him. I thought it would be worth trying to give him a little push."
"Perhaps," Cavanagh said. "Not that he has any reason to believe three Human-Conquerors."
From the door came a soft click. "Got it," Kolchin said, withdrawing his probe from the lock mechanism. Getting to his feet, he got a set of fingernails between the door and jamb and eased it open a crack -
And was abruptly thrown backward, spinning around toward Cavanagh as the door was slammed violently open. Reflexively, Cavanagh threw up his arms, catching Kolchin as he fell with a crash into him and the cot.
And a Bhurt charged into the cell.
Bronski was off his own cot and into a combat stance even before Kolchin had come to a complete stop. Another two seconds and Kolchin was back on balance as well, poised to receive the attack.
But the attack didn't come. The big alien skidded to a stop a meter inside the cell, and for a long moment stood there glowering at each of the humans in turn. "I am ordered not to hurt you," he rumbled at last, backing into the doorway. "Not yet."
He got a grip on the handle and pulled the door closed behind him. It sealed with a solid-sounding thunk.
"You all right?" Cavanagh asked as Kolchin slowly rose out of his combat stance.
"Just feeling stupid," Kolchin said, an edge of bitterness in his voice. "I would have sworn there weren't any guards out there."
"Bhurtala can be amazingly quiet when they want to be," Bronski said. "Don't let it worry you."
"Yeah," Kolchin said. "Right."
Cavanagh patted his shoulder reassuringly. "Zhirrzh Elder?" he called. "Are you still here?"
There was no answer. "Still chewing it over, I guess," Bronski said, resettling himself on his cot. "Until he decides to come back, we might as well get some rest. At least now we know how to open the door. That's something."
"For all the good that does us with a Bhurt outside," Cavanagh pointed out.
Bronski smiled grimly. "Don't worry. We'll think of something."
With an audible exhaling of breath, Melinda Cavanagh straightened and pushed back a few strands of cranial hair that had dropped down across her face. "Finished," she said.
"That's all it takes?" Thrr-gilag asked, frowning at the skintight immobilization cast she had put on Pheylan Cavanagh's left leg. It looked far more fragile than even the light-ceramic casts the Zhirrzh used for broken bones.
"That's it," she assured him, trying to work a finger under one of the magnet rings on her new obedience suit to rub her side. Mnov-korthe had insisted on the obedience suit; pointedly, he'd given the triggers to two of his warriors, not to Thrr-gilag or Klnn-dawan-a. "The membrane cast immobilizes the leg and also stimulates bone repair."
Amazing technology, indeed. "He'll be all right, then?"
"He should be fine," she said.
"I'm glad," Thrr-gilag said, looking down into that sleeping alien face. He was glad, he realized suddenly, and not just because it meant he wouldn't lose a potential research subject. Perhaps now he would finally be able to learn why Pheylan Cavanagh hadn't raised him to Eldership when he'd had the chance back on Study World 12.
To his left the door opened, and he turned to see Second Commander Klnn-vavgi step into the room, flanked by two warriors. "Thrr-gilag," he nodded in greeting.
"Commander Klnn-vavgi," Thrr-gilag said stiffly. "I suppose congratulations are in order on your promotion."
"Thank you," Klnn-vavgi said coolly. "I'm sorry you don't approve. Fortunately, your approval isn't necessary. How's the prisoner?"
"I thought you were Thrr-mezaz's friend," Thrr-gilag bit out. "Thrr-mezaz thought so, too. I guess we were both wrong."
Klnn-vavgi didn't even wince. "This has nothing to do with friendship, Searcher Thrr-gilag," he said. "This has to do with my duty as a warrior. Mnov-korthe has clear authorization from the Overclan Seating. It's my duty to help him carry it out."
"To carry what out?" Thrr-gilag demanded. "He won't even tell me what he's looking for."
"He won't tell me, either," Klnn-vavgi said, crossing the room to gaze briefly into Pheylan Cavanagh's sleeping face. "Only some of the Elders. Though he seems to believe you and Commander Thrr-mezaz already know. How's the prisoner doing?"
Thrr-gilag flicked his tongue. "I'm told he'll recover."
"Excellent," Klnn-vavgi said. "I presume you and Klnn-dawan-a will want to begin your studies on him immediately."
"We'll begin as soon as he's well enough," Thrr-gilag growled. "He has had a serious injury, you know."
"So much the better - you can get baseline data for a Human-Conqueror under injury stress. That could be very useful, couldn't it?"
Thrr-gilag glanced at Melinda Cavanagh and Sergeant Janovetz, who of course had no idea what the conversation was about. "Yes. Perhaps."
"Then it's settled," Klnn-vavgi said, also looking at the other two Humans. "You'd best start collecting your equipment together. I've set up a private examination room for you across the landing field. Klnn-dawan-a's already there getting the preparations started. Srgent-janovetz will have to stay here, but I presume you'll be wanting the Human-Conqueror healer to come help you."
Thrr-gilag frowned. That had been a decidedly odd comment. "I suppose we could use her."
"I'm sure you can," Klnn-vavgi said, wandering over to the table where Melinda Cavanagh had laid out her tools and medicines. "Especially with her specialized healer equipment."
Thrr-gilag felt his tongue pressing painfully at the inside of his mouth. Not half a stride away from Klnn-vavgi was the metal box where Prr't-zevisti's fsss cutting was hidden.... "You're right, of course," he said.
"Good," Klnn-vavgi said, stepping around behind the table and turning to face Thrr-gilag again. "It should be a lot calmer over there, actually. Mnov-korthe and his brother are going to be turning this encampment inside out until they find what they're looking for." He paused, resting one hand on top of the metal box, and locked eyes with Thrr-gilag. "I gather that it has something to do with that missing Elder, Prr't-zevisti."
"Ah," Thrr-gilag murmured.
"They've already spoken at length to Commander Thrr-mezaz," Klnn-vavgi continued, casually rubbing the smooth metal surface with his fingertips. "And I know they're eager to talk to you, too. But I've convinced them that your Human-Conqueror studies must take priority. I hope you and Klnn-dawan-a can obtain some useful results."
"We'll try," Thrr-gilag said, his earlier resentment melting away. Despite their efforts to keep Klnn-vavgi out of this mess, the second commander had clearly figured out enough of it on his own. But instead of turning them in to the Dhaa'rr agents, he had connived to buy them some time.
And in the process had put his own neck on the line along with theirs. "We'll try our best."
"Good," Klnn-vavgi said, his eyes flicking upward to the Elders hovering nearly invisibly overhead. "I'll detail some warriors to carry the prisoner and escort you to the examination room. Good luck."
He left the room. "Is there trouble?" Melinda Cavanagh asked.
"No," Thrr-gilag told her, conscious of the fact that all the Elders up there knew some of the Human language. "We need to move Pheylan Cavanagh to another place for study. A more private place, I'm told. You'll be coming with me."
"And Sergeant Janovetz?"
"He'll stay here."
"I see," Melinda Cavanagh said. "How private will this place be?"
"Reasonably," Thrr-gilag said, hoping she would read between the lines. "There will be warriors outside, of cour
se."
"Yes," she said, stepping over to the table and selecting two of the tubes of medicine. Crossing to Sergeant Janovetz, she handed him the tubes. "Before I forget again, Sergeant, I brought you some of your special rash ointment."
"Thanks, Doc," he said, glancing at them briefly and dropping them casually beside him on his cot. "Use as needed, right?"
Melinda glanced at her watch. "You should probably wait a couple of hours," she said. "And just use a small amount. I know that kind of rash can get distracting, but the prescribed treatment doesn't involve extermination."
The tufts of hair over his eyes lifted a little higher. "None?"
"None," Melinda Cavanagh said firmly. "There are new indications that the rash might actually be benign."
"Benign?" Sergeant Janovetz said, his voice sounding odd. "You're joking."
"Not at all," she assured him.
His shoulders went up and down again. "Well, you're the doctor. Prescription understood."
She nodded and turned to Thrr-gilag. "All right," she said, picking up the box with Prr't-zevisti's cutting in it. "Let's go."
"There," Commander Oclan-barjak said, gesturing out the transport's canopy. "Straight ahead, on top of that hill."
A beat later the dark figure made his location obvious, flashing a light briefly toward the incoming transports. "Is he alone?" the Prime asked.
"Appears to be," Oclan-barjak grunted. "We'll find out soon enough. All right, pilot - signal the others, then put us down."
They were on the ground four hunbeats later. Two hunbeats after that the warriors had been deployed and the shadowy figure brought into the subdued semicircle of light spilling out from the transport's open hatchway. Just inside the semicircle one of the warriors handed him a kavra fruit, waiting until he'd sliced it before escorting him the rest of the way. As he approached the light, the Prime could now see that there was an Elder accompanying him.
"I'm the Overclan Prime," the Prime identified himself. "You're Protector Thrr-tulkoj?"
"Yes," the Zhirrzh said, gesturing to the Elder hovering beside him. "This is Thrr't-rokik; Kee'rr. He's the one who brought me the message from Searcher Nzz-oonaz on Mra."
"Thrr't-rokik," the Prime nodded greeting. It was, he suspected, going to be very interesting to hear how this pathway had come to be. But first things first. "Has Nzz-oonaz been informed I'm here?"
"Yes," Thrr't-rokik said. "He said to give you the recognition code 'Pllaa'rr beside the Softly Raging Sea.' "
Another of their private recognition codes. "Very well. Message: this is the Overclan Prime. What is this matter you wish to discuss?"
Thrr't-rokik vanished. The Prime waited, glancing around the hilltops and the warriors in ready position. If it was a trap, the attackers were taking their time about springing it. Or else had been frightened away by the size of the Overclan warrior contingent.
Thrr't-rokik returned. " 'I have had disturbing news, Overclan Prime, which I felt could not be safely trusted to my usual pathways. Were you aware that normal communications with the Zhirrzh ground forces on Dorcas have been suspended?' "
The Prime felt his lowlight pupils contract. "No," he said. "For what reason?"
" 'I've been unable to find out,' " the answer came. " 'But I've heard rumors that indicate the Dhaa'rr clan may be behind it.' "
The Prime grimaced. Yes, he could smell Speaker Cvv-panav's saliva all over this one. Whatever was happening on Dorcas was clearly the most recent thrust in his campaign to catch Thrr-gilag with his illegal cutting and then to link it back to the Prime.
Only this time the Speaker had gone directly to the source. If Thrr-gilag hadn't managed to get rid of the cutting, they were indeed going to be in trouble. "You said normal communications had been cut off," he said to Thrr't-rokik. "What exactly did you mean by that?"
"An Elder aboard the Closed Mouth tried to open a pathway," Thrr't-rokik said. "He came back and said - "
"He meant for you to take the question to Nzz-oonaz," Oclan-barjak cut him off gruffly. "Not answer it yourself."
"I'm sorry," Thrr't-rokik said, with no apology in face or voice that the Prime could detect. "I was there when it happened. I thought answering it myself would save time."
"I'm sure it would," the Prime said. "But the form must be followed. Take the question to Nzz-oonaz."
"I obey," Thrr't-rokik said, and vanished.
"Insolent illegit," Oclan-barjak muttered. "Overclan Prime, I have a listing of Overclan-certified Elders in the area. If you'd like, I'll summon one to open a pathway back to Unity City. Then you can dispense with this amateur."
The Prime flicked his tongue in a negative. "Let's see what Nzz-oonaz has to say first."
Thrr't-rokik returned. " 'One of my Elders tried to open a pathway to Thrr-gilag on Dorcas,' " he said. " 'He returned with the information that the only pathways that were being allowed were through Dhaa'rr Elders.' "
"On whose orders?" the Prime asked.
Thrr't-rokik vanished; returned. " 'He had the impression it was the Speaker for Dhaa'rr.' "
Oclan-barjak rumbled something under his breath. "In case any of us hadn't already guessed."
"Still, more overt than his usual style," the Prime said. "He must be very sure of himself. All right, Searcher, I'll deal with it. Was there anything else?"
" 'Yes,' " the answer came a few beats later. " 'Thrr't-rokik has discovered the Mrachanis have taken three Human-Conqueror prisoners and are holding them in the fortress four thoustrides from us. He has also overheard speculation that the Mrachanis may be planning to attack us and blame the Human-Conquerors.' "
The Prime frowned. "Is this true, Thrr't-rokik?"
"To the best of my understanding, Overclan Prime, yes," Thrr't-rokik said. "My knowledge of the Human-Conqueror language is admittedly limited, but I believe I understood their speech correctly."
"Whose speech, the prisoners?"
Thrr't-rokik nodded. "Yes."
"Probably lying," Oclan-barjak grunted. "You can't trust something the enemy says."
"But why would they lie?" Thrr't-rokik asked reasonably. "They didn't know I was there listening. Why would they lie in private conversation with each other?"
"An interesting question," the Prime agreed. "Ask Searcher Nzz-oonaz if he believes them."
"I obey," Thrr't-rokik said, and vanished.
He was back half a hunbeat later. " 'I don't know, Overclan Prime,' " he quoted. " 'I don't trust the Human-Conquerors, of course. But I don't trust the Mrachanis anymore, either. I had a conversation with Thrr-gilag before the pathways were closed down about the Mrach ambassadors who died on Oaccanv.' "
"Yes, I read your report on that," the Prime nodded. Along with Commander Thrr-mezaz's report about the explosives attack on Dorcas, too. "All right, here's what I want you to do. On some pretext, without causing alarm, I want you to quietly bring your contact group back into the Closed Mouth. That goes for your support technics, too. The only ones who are to be outside the ship are the warriors on guard duty, and they're to stay close. You have all that, Thrr't-rokik?"
"Yes, Overclan Prime." Thrr't-rokik vanished.
"If it comes to a real fight, the Closed Mouth is going to be in trouble," Oclan-barjak said quietly. "Most of the ship's weaponry was removed before they left Oaccanv."
"Yes, I know," the Prime said grimly, running through in his mind the Elders' description of the hangar area where the Closed Mouth had been hidden. Scooped out of the base of a solid stone hill, it wasn't going to be an easy place to make a quick exit from.
Especially since he seemed to remember that the Mrachanis had positioned the ship in such a way that its lasers couldn't be brought to bear on the hangar door. Odd that no one had noticed that before now.
Thrr't-rokik returned. " 'Understood, Overclan Prime. I'll alert the others immediately. Will you be returning to Unity City now?' "
The Prime glanced around the dark hills, curves of darkness against the blazing stars overhea
d. There was certainly no reason for him to stay here once this pathway was closed. A potential Mrach attack had nothing political about it, which meant Nzz-oonaz's usual pathways should be adequate for the situation. Besides which, the pathways he had available back at the Overclan Complex would be better for getting to the bottom of whatever was happening on Dorcas.
And yet, there was something about this situation....
He flicked his tongue impatiently. Vague feelings were not something to base policy decisions on. Certainly not vague feelings generated by the shifting winds and shadows on top of a hill at latearc. "Yes," he said. "Let me know via the usual pathways when everyone's aboard the Closed Mouth."
" 'I obey, Overclan Prime,' " the reply came a few beats later.
"Good luck." The Prime nodded. "All right, Thrr't-rokik. Go ahead and close the pathway."
"I obey." Thrr't-rokik hesitated. "Overclan Prime, what about the three Human-Conquerors?"
"What about them?"
"What if the Mrachanis decide to kill them before launching their attack on the Closed Mouth?"
"Again, what about it?"
"Well, shouldn't we do something to stop it?" Thrr't-rokik asked.
"They're our enemies, Thrr't-rokik," Oclan-barjak reminded him. "The more of them that die, the better it is for us."
"I'm not talking about death in warfare, Commander," Thrr't-rokik said stubbornly. "This would be flat-out murder."
"Of alien creatures who started a war - "
The Prime cut him off with a gesture. "I understand your concern, Thrr't-rokik," he said. "As a matter of fact, I do indeed sympathize. But I don't see what we can do to help. Not without some of Nzz-oonaz's warriors risking premature Eldership."
Thrr't-rokik's tongue flicked out. "What if they didn't start the war?" he asked. "Would that make a difference?"
The Prime frowned. "We've been through all this before, Thrr't-rokik. Who have you been talking to?"
An unreadable expression flicked across the translucent face. "My son, Thrr-gilag, has always wondered about that," he said. "He said Pheylan Cavanagh seemed so sure."
"The issue has been laid to rest," the Prime said, putting some ice in his voice. "The Human-Conquerors attacked first; and unless you want to challenge the honesty of the Elders who were at that first battle, I don't want to hear anything more about it. Understood?"
