Conquerors 3 - Conquerors' Legacy

by Timothy Zahn

  "He's all right for now," Melinda told him. "We've got to get inside the aircar and tell Colonel Holloway to stop his attack."

  "You've got to be kidding," Janovetz said. "Something's happened to all the Zhirrzh - this is the perfect time for an attack."

  "I know what's happened," Melinda said. She had a flash of inspiration - "It's a trap."

  "I should have guessed," Janovetz muttered. "Come on."

  They circled around the aircar's nose to the landing ramp. Two Zhirrzh were twitching on the ground at the foot; passing between them, Janovetz ran up the ramp and ducked through the hatchway. Hopping up behind him, Melinda followed -

  And suddenly Janovetz tumbled back out again, flopping with a terrible crash onto his back on the ramp.

  "Janovetz!" Melinda gasped, dropping onto her knees at his side. Even in the dim light she could see the dark bloodstain slowly spreading over his chest and shoulder. Reflexively, she reached for a sleeve to tear for a bandage, stopped with a curse as her fingers hit bare skin, and instead felt for the wound. Not in the neck as she'd feared, but higher up on the cheek. At least he wouldn't bleed to death.

  But there was Zhirrzh tongue poison in the wound. If it wasn't treated quickly...

  His eyes fluttered open. "Leave me," he whispered. "Warn... the colonel."

  Melinda blinked away sudden tears. "I will," she promised. She scrambled back to her feet -

  And stopped. A Zhirrzh was standing in front of her, just inside the hatchway, one hand gripping his side, but otherwise apparently unaffected by the Elderdeath weapon blazing across the landing field.

  Standing inside the shielding effects of the metal hull.

  "I have to get through," she said, knowing even as she spoke that her human words probably wouldn't be understood. "Please. I have to stop this attack."

  The Zhirrzh didn't reply; but suddenly there was a sharp word from behind her.

  Slowly, she turned around. The two Zhirrzh at the foot of the landing ramp were on their feet again, their weapons and eyes pointed directly at her. All around the landing field, the rest of the Zhirrzh were coming back to life.

  Following her instructions, Pheylan had destroyed the radio.

  A half-dozen other Zhirrzh were hurrying up now, forming a semicircle around the foot of the ramp. As with the first two, their weapons were trained on her. "I have to call Colonel Holloway," she said, raising her voice. Surely someone out there could understand her. "I have to tell him to stop his attack."

  None of the warriors replied. But suddenly, from off to her left, came a familiar voice. "Melinda Cavanagh?"

  "Thrr-gilag?" she called back in relief. "Come quickly - you have to explain."

  Thrr-gilag raced up to the ring of warriors, already talking. The Zhirrzh in the hatchway said something; was answered - "There's no time to argue," Melinda insisted. The sound of the incoming aircars was growing dangerously loud. "Tell him I have to get in there."

  Thrr-gilag made a hissing sound. "I am sorry, Melinda Cavanagh," he said. "My brother believes me but cannot order the warriors away. Mnov-korthe has taken command away from him - "

  He broke off as a faint Elder voice spoke. Melinda looked around, spotted the pale image beside the Zhirrzh just outside the hatchway. "It is Prr't-zevisti," Thrr-gilag told her. "He is bringing orders from the Overclan Prime for you to be allowed in."

  Melinda looked down. Most of the warriors had reluctantly lowered their weapons.

  But the original two hadn't moved. One of them spoke - "Thrr-gilag?" Melinda asked.

  Thrr-gilag hissed again. "They are Dhaa'rr," he identified them. "They will not accept that Prr't-zevisti is speaking for the Overclan Prime. They will only accept orders from - "

  And then, from somewhere across the landing field, another voice joined in. "From Mnov-korthe," Thrr-gilag said, sounding surprised. "But now he too is ordering the Dhaa'rr to let you pass."

  Melinda blinked. Considering Mnov-korthe's last views on the subject... but there was no time now to reflect on his change of heart. The last two warriors had lowered their weapons - "Come on," she told Thrr-gilag, hurrying up the ramp. "We'll need your brother, too."

  The aircar's control board was laid out differently from the civilian aircars Melinda was used to, but it took only a few seconds to locate the laser comm. "Here goes," she muttered, keying it on and hoping the Zhirrzh techs who'd undoubtedly studied the craft hadn't accidentally disabled it. The lights went on; changed color as the tracking control searched out and found the incoming attack force - "Colonel Holloway, this is Melinda Cavanagh," she called into the mike. "You have to break off the attack. Repeat, you have to break off the attack. Colonel Holloway - "

  "This is Holloway," the colonel's voice boomed from the speaker. "Explain."

  "The Zhirrzh leaders now know the war's been a mistake," she said. "We've got the beginnings of a cease-fire started, but a battle now could ruin it. Please break off."

  There was a long moment of silence. "Thrr-gilag, tell your brother to order his warriors not to fire on the human aircars," she said hurriedly. "Or at least not unless fired on themselves."

  "I obey." Thrr-gilag spoke rapidly to his brother, who stepped back to the hatchway. Melinda glimpsed a group of Elders gathered there around him -

  "This makes no sense at all, Cavanagh," Holloway's voice came back. "You haven't got authority to make deals with the Zhirrzh."

  "So court-martial me," Melinda retorted. "But damn it all, don't attack."

  There was another long pause. Melinda clenched her hand into a fist - "I'll tell you what," Holloway said at last. "I'm still not buying this yet; but what I'll do is order my troops not to fire unless fired upon. If you can persuade your new friends down there to do likewise, that ought to show enough good faith on both sides to try to sort this out. Fair enough?"

  Melinda's hand opened up again, the fingers trembling with reaction. "Very fair, Colonel. Thank you. As a matter of fact, the commander here has already given his troops that same order."

  "Then we're in business," he said. "I presume you're going to want me to come down there and talk about this?"

  "Please. And bring a full medical pack with you - Janovetz has taken some Zhirrzh tongue poison."

  "Acknowledged," Holloway said. "We'll be down in three minutes."

  "All right," Bronski muttered. "Here we go."

  "Wait a second," Cavanagh told him, glancing around. Kolchin was nowhere in sight. "Kolchin's not in yet."

  "Don't worry, we're not going anywhere," Bronski assured him. Reaching to the control board, he touched a switch -

  And hovering just inside the canopy, Thrr't-rokik suddenly stiffened.

  "Bronski!" Cavanagh snapped, suddenly understanding. "Thrr't-rokik - "

  "I'm sorry, Thrr't-rokik," Bronski said, adjusting the frequency control. "But we don't have a choice here."

  "I understand," the Elder said, his face contorted in pain. "Do what you must."

  Bronski nodded. "This is Bronski," he called. "Code four; condition red; situation red. If you're out there, Daschka, get your rear over here fast."

  "Daschka?" Cavanagh said, frowning. "Where - I mean how - ?"

  "Because I left a message drop for him back at the ship, of course," Bronski grunted. "We're hardly amateurs here, Cavanagh. If he got the skitter message at Phormbi, he and Cho Ming ought to be lurking out there somewhere."

  "And if they didn't?"

  "Then we go to Plan B," Bronski said. "Come on, Daschka, look alive."

  There was movement outside. Cavanagh jumped, but it was just Kolchin. "Farewell gift from the Mrachanis," he said, holding up a cluster of blue cylinders with a set of wires attached. "I guess they didn't want to trust in their marksmanship to bring us down."

  Cavanagh looked at Thrr't-rokik. "You'd better go check on the hangar," he told the Elder. "See if the Mrachanis have finished planting their explosives yet."

  "I obey," Thrr't-rokik gritted, and vanished.

 
"Daschka, this is Bronski," Bronski called again. "Code four."

  Again there was no response. "Looks like we've flared out, gentlemen," Bronski said, keying the board. "Plan B: we run like hell."

  From behind Cavanagh came the distinctive whine of the engines. "What about the Closed Mouth?" he asked.

  "Sorry, Cavanagh," Bronski said, shaking his head. "I don't think there's anything we can do to help them."

  And then Thrr't-rokik was back. "Beware, Lord-stewart Cavanagh," he said. "The Mrach aircraft are raising into the air."

  "Damn," Bronski bit out. "So much for engine warm-up. Here we go."

  "Wait," Kolchin said, touching his arm. "Out there - two o'clock. Incoming."

  Cavanagh peered out into the moonlight. Sure enough, a dark shape barely illuminated by the moonlight was lumbering through the sky toward them.

  But the Mrachanis were on it. From both sides and over the top of the cliffs the aircraft Thrr't-rokik had identified blazed forward to intercept, assembling into a pair of attack formations as they flew. From a large rock outcropping in the near distance another group appeared, falling into backup position above and between the first two. Like wolves charging toward a tottering elk...

  And then, abruptly, a smaller shape burst into view from the concealing shadows beneath the incoming vehicle. It flashed ahead; and as it turned toward the Mrach aircraft, a stray glint of moonlight flickered across it, reflecting off the distinctive black-and-white hull -

  "I'll be damned," Bronski breathed. "It's a Corvine. It's a damned Copperhead Corvine."

  The attackers' own reaction was immediate and frantic, the confident multipronged attack floundering as the aircraft suddenly recognized what they faced and scurried like mad to get out of the way. But the wolves had met the tiger; and for the wolves it was far too late. The Corvine sliced straight through the center of their formation, its cannon sputtering in all directions with deadly accuracy. Five of the aircraft flashed to vapor in midair, lighting up the sky like a Founding Day fireworks display. Four others survived long enough to hit the ground, turning there into instant bonfires. The rest scattered, clawing for the relative safety of distance.

  Bronski keyed the radio again. "Corvine, this is Bronski. There's a hangar door in the fortress about five klicks south of my position. There's a trapped spacecraft inside. Free it."

  "Corvine acknowledging," a familiar voice responded. "Is Lord Cavanagh there with you?"

  "I'm here, Aric," Cavanagh said, leaning forward toward the mike. Why Aric would be there with Bronski's men... but they could sort that out later. "Hurry with that hangar door. The Mrachanis are planning to bring the mountain down on it."

  The Corvine was already driving south. "Hang on," Bronski said, lifting into the air and following. "Thrr't-rokik?"

  "They have stopped work," Thrr't-rokik said. "I fear it will be happening soon."

  "Let's hope your captain's smart enough to run when the door opens," Bronski said, touching the radio control again. "Seconds count here, gentlemen."

  There was no reply; but suddenly the Corvine swooped in close to the cliff wall and rolled ninety degrees to its right. The cannon stuttered again, the shells stitching parallel lines of miniature explosions across the width of the hangar doors. The fighter pulled back and around in a tight curve, swinging around to drive directly at the doors. At the last second it pulled sharply up, the twin flashes of missile launchings sparking toward the doors.

  And with a roar and double flash of roiling fire the doors shattered and collapsed.

  And through the smoke and still-flaming gas the Zhirrzh ship appeared, its glittering new metal sheathing torn in a hundred places by shrapnel and flying rock. It battered its way out through the opening, its hull scraping repeatedly against the crumbling remains of the door. There was a half-strangled gasp from Aric as the Corvine came around in another tight loop -

  "Hold your fire," Bronski barked. "We've got a truce with the Zhirrzh."

  "No - let them fire," Cavanagh suggested. "They can't hurt the hull, but it'll help clear off that metal sheathing."

  "Good idea," Bronski agreed. "You copy, Corvine?"

  "We copy," Quinn's cautious voice came. "Lord Cavanagh?"

  "It's all right," Cavanagh assured him. "Your responsibility is to the family, and to obey all family orders."

  "Acknowledged," Quinn said.

  "We ought to get out of here," Kolchin said. "The Mrachanis may have heavier weaponry in the area."

  "Yes," Cavanagh said, looking around and finally spotting Thrr't-rokik. "Thrr't-rokik, what about your fsss cutting?"

  "Leave it there," the other said. "It would be dangerous to try to retrieve it now. And the Overclan Prime may wish me to continue observing."

  "All right," Cavanagh said. "Can you get to Nzz-oonaz and his group yet?"

  Thrr't-rokik flicked away, returned a few seconds later. "He is informed of new truths," he assured them. "He will not attack you. The Overclan Prime wishes to know if Lord-stewart Cavanagh and Bronski will accompany the Closed Mouth to a Human world to discuss peace."

  "Sounds like a plan," Bronski said. "Edo's our best bet, I think. Daschka can send a skitter on ahead to warn them we're coming."

  Cavanagh braced himself. "What about my daughter and other son?" he asked. "Is there word yet?"

  "They are unharmed," Thrr't-rokik said. "The Human commander is soon arriving to discuss matters with Thrr-mezaz."

  Cavanagh closed his eyes, exhaling a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "It's over," he murmured, a wave of fatigue and released tension rolling over him. "We've done it."

  "It's not over yet," Bronski said grimly. "There's still that rogue attack force heading for Earth. My guess is we haven't got more than a few hours to stop them."

  "Why can't the Elders just take them a message?" Kolchin asked. "Warrior Command's in charge, isn't it?"

  "But Warrior Command still does not know about this," Thrr't-rokik said. "And if it is a Dhaa'rr fleet as the Overclan Prime thinks, only Speaker Cvv-panav will be able to stop the attack."

  "Then call him," Bronski said.

  "That is problem," Thrr't-rokik told him. "Speaker Cvv-panav now on Dhaa'rr world of Dharanv. Not accepting any communications."

  Bronski swore gently. "Waiting at home for word of his grand victory, I imagine. This is going to be trouble."

  Cavanagh opened his eyes again. The Zhirrzh ship was settling to the ground nearby, Quinn and Bronski's men flying high cover for it. "Actually, I don't think so," he told the brigadier. "I think I know how to get through to him. Let's go aboard and discuss it with the Overclan Prime, shall we?"

  Melinda keyed off the laser comm and stepped out of the hatchway. Prr't-zevisti was waiting there for her, his face looking strange. "It's all over, Prr't-zevisti," she assured him. "We've done it."

  "Yes," he said. "And I thank you deeply, Melinda Cavanagh. But I am confused. I have now been to see your brother. Mnov-korthe is still there with him, under guard of Second Commander Klnn-vavgi. Yet we heard him call from the landing area and order you to be allowed inside the aircraft."

  "Yes, we did." Melinda frowned, peering out into the darkness. Holloway's incoming aircar was visible now, circling around to get into landing position. Its lights flicked on, illuminating the area where the voice had come from -

  And Melinda's frown smoothed into a wry smile. Of course; she should have guessed. "Hello?" she called. "Max?"

  "Hello, Dr. Cavanagh," Max's smooth voice came from the meter-long silver cylinder lying ignominiously in the dust of the landing field. "The Zhirrzh assigned to transport me seem to have run off to other duties."

  "And so you listened in," she said. "And decided to lend a hand."

  "You appeared to require assistance," the computer said. "I hope I have not acted improperly."

  "No, Max," she assured him. "Your timing and your voice were absolutely perfect."

  30

  Speaker Cvv-panav had gone to sleep
smiling, with firm orders that he was not to be awakened for anything but the most momentous information.

  Five hunbeats ago he had indeed been awakened. And was no longer smiling. "How in the eighteen worlds could this have happened?" he thundered to the Elder hovering nervously before him. "You had everything you needed."

  " 'It wasn't enough,' " Mnov-korthe's tart reply came a few beats later. " 'We found the illegal cutting, all right, but Prr't-zevisti was alive. And somehow in contact with the Overclan Prime.' "

  Cvv-panav slashed viciously at the air. And that part was his own fault. But how could he have known - ? "Never mind," he growled. "The Prime may have won a battle, but the war is still ours. He wants peace? Fine; we'll give him peace. The peace that comes with final victory."

  The Elder nodded and vanished. Yes, they would have peace, all right, Cvv-panav told himself as he keyed his reader for current status of the warships being towed toward the heart of Human-Conqueror territory by their Mrach allies. A little over a tentharc away from Earth now, still off the Human-Conqueror detectors. And when they did appear, looking merely like a fleet of harmless Mrach spacecraft -

  The Elder reappeared. " 'There is news of that, as well, Speaker Cvv-panav,' " he quoted Mnov-korthe. " 'As Mnov-dornt and I were being taken to confinement, I overheard one of the Human-Conquerors tell Commander Thrr-mezaz that the spacecraft that had escaped Dorcas had taken with it the final piece of the CIRCE weapon.' "

  "So it was there after all," Cvv-panav said, a flicker of his earlier satisfaction returning. "You were right: the Mrach intelligence reports were indeed wrong. Excellent. That means there will be no chance at all of our assault force having to face that weapon."

  " 'Yes,' " the reply came. " 'I suppose that's something.' "

  "That's everything," Cvv-panav countered. "It's the upcoming victory at Earth that will vault the Dhaa'rr back to power. What's going to happen to you now?"

  " 'The Overclan Prime will be sending a ship to return us to Oaccanv.' "

  Cvv-panav flicked his tongue in contempt. "Don't let it worry you," he said. "Long before you reach Zhirrzh space, the Overclan Prime will have ceased to exist as a political force. Farewell."