Conquerors' Pride

by Timothy Zahn

  Holloway looked out the window as another aircar convoy lifted off with supplies for the canyon. "Assuming we have any civilians left by the time the Conquerors hit."

  "Actually, I think most of the exodus is over," Takara said. "Everyone who's still here seems ready to stick it out. Colonist types, you know."

  "Yeah-proud, brave, and stubborn. Personally, I'd rather they all tucked their tails and ran like craven puppies. Guerrilla warfare is grim enough without having twenty-five thousand civilians underfoot."

  "Don't sell them short, Cass," Takara warned. "Even civilians can be dangerous when they get their backs up."

  "As long as they're dangerous to the Conquerors and not to each other. Or to us." Holloway keyed for an overview of the canyon. "All right. The north end looks about as secure as we can make it. Let's see what we can do with this gap over here on the eastern wall."

  His comm buzzed. "Colonel, this is Sergeant Crane. You asked to be informed if any unusual spacecraft came into the system."

  The hairs on the back of Holloway's neck pricked up. "How unusual is it?"

  "Oh, no, sir, it's notthat unusual," Crane hastened to assure him. "It's just that fighter wake-trail we picked up half an hour ago. Turns out it's an old Counterpunch."

  Holloway looked at Takara. "A Counterpunch?"

  "Yes, sir. They've just meshed in, and they seem to be having a coded conversation with someone down here."

  Takara was already halfway to the door. "Find the other end," Holloway called as he circled his desk. "I'll be right there."

  They reached the sensor center to find Crane and another operator hunched over the main board. "It's not a standard Peacekeeper code, sir," Crane reported as they came up to him. "Also doesn't appear to be any of the ones the nonhumans use. We're still sectoring for the other end-haven't found it yet."

  "Could it be an industrial code?" Takara asked.

  Crane shrugged. "I suppose so. Who on Dorcas would bother with anything like that?"

  "Dr. Melinda Cavanagh, that's who," Holloway said. "Three days' leave time says the other end is in or near that fueler that just came down."

  The operator fiddled with his board. "I'll be damned," he muttered. "You're right, sir, it is."

  "Want me to get some people over there?" Takara asked.

  "Transmission's ended, sir," the operator said before Holloway could answer. "Wait a minute. The Counterpunch is hailing us now."

  "Put it on speaker," Holloway ordered. "Unidentified Counterpunch fighter, this is Dorcas Control. Please identify yourselves."

  "Dorcas Control, this is Wing Commander Adam Quinn," a voice with distinct military crispness said. "Requesting permission to land."

  "Commander, this is Lieutenant Colonel Holloway," Holloway said. "May I have your assignment authorization number, please?"

  "I'm not being assigned to your garrison, Colonel," Quinn said. "I'm just passing through."

  "Sorry to hear that," Holloway said. "We could certainly use you. I'd like the number anyway."

  There was a short pause. "It's six seven four two four nine five five," Quinn said. "MSC code Foxtrot Lima Victor Victor."

  "Thank you, Commander," Holloway said. "Landing control will give you instructions for vector insertion. I'd like you to report to my office when you get down."

  "Certainly, Colonel. Thank you."

  "Carry on, Sergeant," Holloway nodded to Crane. "Fuji, a word with you, please."

  They stepped over to an unoccupied corner of the room. "What do you think?" Holloway asked.

  Takara shrugged. "The authorization code sounded legitimate enough."

  "It had the right number of numbers and letters, anyway," Holloway said. "That's about all we can tell from here."

  Takara looked back across the room. "Well, we can check up right now on Wing Commander Quinn," he pointed out. "He should be listed in the general personnel file."

  "If not, I certainly want to meet this civilian who can fly a Copperhead fighter," Holloway said. "Yes, go ahead and check him out." He pursed his lips. "And while you're at it, I want anything and everything you can find on Dr. Melinda Cavanagh."

  Takara frowned. "I thought she said she was associated with CavTronics Industries."

  "That's what she said, yes. I want to find out if it's true."

  Crane looked up. "All set, Colonel," he said. "They should be down in about forty-five minutes. Shall I arrange billeting?"

  "Not yet," Holloway said. "Let's see if he's made other arrangements. Did you get the name of Quinn's tail?"

  "Ah-" Crane blinked. "No, actually, I didn't. He didn't offer, and I didn't think to ask. Shall I call him back?"

  "Don't bother," Holloway shook his head. "I'd lay long odds that it's Dr. Cavanagh's brother Aric. Throw his name into the hopper, too, Fuji, while you're at it."

  "I'll just go ahead and run the whole family," Takara said. "It'll probably save time in the long run."

  "Thanks," Holloway said, throwing the other a wry smile. "Get that started, and then report back to my office. I still want to see what you've got in mind for that gap in the east wall."

  The office door slid open with its usual gentle hiss; and with a jerk Holloway snapped upright in his chair. "Yes?"

  "Sorry, Cass," Takara apologized from the doorway. "I didn't realize you were asleep."

  "Didn't realize it myself," Holloway admitted, rubbing at his eyes and glancing at his watch. Near as he could figure, he'd lost about half an hour. Minor loss of time, major loss of pride. "What are you doing here?" he asked the other. "You're supposed to be off duty."

  "Like you, you mean?" Takara said pointedly as he stepped into the room. "Still working on that gap?"

  "Still banging my head against it, anyway," Holloway said, looking over the multiple aerial views he'd mapped out on his display. "We can't just let it sit there wide open like that, Fuji. It's an open invitation for high-speed fighter-strafing attacks."

  "I'd suggest sleeping on it," Takara said with a straight face. "Sorry; you've already tried that, haven't you?"

  "That's cute," Holloway growled. "You have a reason to be here insulting your commanding officer instead of in your quarters where you belong?"

  "Two things," Takara said, pulling over a chair and sitting down. "We got a skitter in from Edo about half an hour ago. Apparently, we're finally going to get ourselves a fleet."

  "About time," Holloway said. "It's only been, what, two weeks since they promised it to us? When's it supposed to arrive?"

  "It'll be another three or four days. I gather they're still in the process of putting it together."

  "Terrific," Holloway said. "What are we getting, converted barges?"

  "They didn't specify," Takara said. "I doubt we'll rate higher than a Vega-class, though. Maybe a Rigel, if they're feeling really generous that day."

  "They won't be," Holloway sighed. "Not with every planet in Lyra and Pegasus Sectors screaming for more protection. The Conquerorswould pick the most spread-out Commonwealth sectors to come at."

  "Maybe on purpose." Takara held up a card. "And here's the other bit of news. Hobson finally got around to pulling that stuff together on Commander Quinn and the Cavanagh family. If you're still interested."

  "I don't have much choice," Holloway grumbled, taking the card. "They're here, they're temporarily my responsibility... and I'll bet money they're up to something improper."

  Takara shrugged. "The problem is figuring out what that is."

  Holloway slapped the card into his display, stifling a curse. There was a vicious and powerful alien race out there gathering like storm clouds to launch an attack on the Commonwealth. Even now an assault force could be driving toward Dorcas. He had barely three hundred trained military personnel to help him prepare for that attack, plus twenty-five thousand civilians his troops would have to move on two hours' notice and ultimately wind up playing nursemaid to. That was if they were lucky. The last thing he had time for was whatever this stupid game was the
Cavanaghs were playing. "They still loading that fueler out there?"

  "They were when I came across the quad," Takara said. "Had some kind of canvac barrier rigged up on one side of it, too. Did Quinn happen to say anything about that when you two had your little talk?"

  "Quinn didn't say much ofanything when we had our little talk," Holloway said. "Maybe they're resealing some seams." He glanced over the material Hobson had put together-

  And paused. Read it more carefully... "You look at any of this?" he asked Takara.

  "Haven't had a chance. Interesting?"

  "You could say so, yes. Aric and Melinda's daddy is Lord Stewart Cavanagh, former NorCoord Parlimin from Grampians on Avon. That name strike any bells?"

  "It does indeed," Takara said slowly. "Wasn't he the one who took on the whole Copperhead command structure a few years back? Got their rear ends in hot water with Parliament?"

  "Try dipped them in molten lead," Holloway said. "He's the one who pushed through the hearings that concluded they were letting people into the Copperheads who weren't even close to being emotionally fit for the job." He cocked an eyebrow. "Want to take a stab at who his keystone witness was?"

  Takara's eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me. Wing Commander Adam Quinn."

  "You got it," Holloway nodded. "We've got us a celebrity out there, Fuji."

  "Terrific," Takara said sourly. "You know, Cass, I'm starting to think that maybe we ought to check up on Dr. Cavanagh's credentials, after all."

  "I'd like nothing better," Holloway said. "Unfortunately, I have a strong suspicion that it would turn out to be a waste of time. Figure eighteen hours to Earth by skitter, another hour or two to get word to Admiral Rudzinski and find out he's never heard of Melinda Cavanagh or any top-secret Peacekeeper mission, then another eighteen hours to get back here." He waved in the general direction of the landing field. "You really think it's going to take them another thirty-seven hours to load that fueler and grab themselves some atmosphere?"

  "Not at the rate they're going," Takara agreed. "But unless you want to lock up the whole bunch of them on general suspicion, I don't see what we can do about it. Of course, once they're gone they're someone else's responsibility."

  "That's one way to look at it," Holloway said. "Not going to earn you any commendations, though. But I don't see any alternatives myself."

  He stopped suddenly. "Yes, I do," he said. "Yes, of course I do."

  "What?"

  Holloway favored him with a tight smile. "Melinda Cavanagh has no documentation, and we'd have to go to Earth to check up on her story. Obviously, they've already thought of that. What they maynot have thought of is the fact that she's no longer the only player in the game. Enter Wing Commander Quinn... and hedoes have documentation. An official Peacekeeper authorization number."

  Slowly, Takara matched Holloway's smile. "Which will be on update file at any of a number of places. Such as the Peacekeeper base on Edo."

  "Which is only a seventeen-hour round trip," Holloway nodded, pulling his plate over and punching up an order. "It's worth taking a shot at. Go alert the crew-I'll have the order cut by the time they're ready to lift."

  "Right," Takara said, heading for the door.

  "And then hit the sack," Holloway added. "We've got a busy day tomorrow."

  "There's another kind?" Takara paused at the doorway. "What do you think they're up to, anyway? Quinn and the Cavanaghs?"

  "No idea," Holloway said, gesturing at the display. "But there's one other interesting point here I didn't mention. Aric and Melinda have another brother-had another brother-name of Pheylan. Until recently commander of the Peacekeeper shipKinshasa. "

  "TheKinshasa, huh?" Takara said thoughtfully. "Yes. That could explain all this."

  Holloway frowned at him. "Really? How?"

  "No idea," Takara shrugged. "I'm just saying itcould explain it."

  "Thanks," Holloway said dryly. "You're so helpful sometimes. I just hope to God that whatever this is, it's something minor. Something we can just lock them up for."

  Takara's lip twitched. "I hadn't thought about that. But we are officially a war zone now, aren't we?"

  "That we are," Holloway nodded. "With all the peripheral fun stuff that comes along with it."

  "Like summary trials."

  "And summary executions."

  Takara exhaled noisily. "You're right," he said. "Let's hope real hard it's something minor."

  13

  The three Zhirrzh interrogators didn't come back to see Pheylan the day after that first trip outside his prison. Nor did they come the day after, or the day after that. On the fourth day they finally reappeared.

  With Svv-selic no longer in charge. It was obvious from the moment they entered the outer room through their private door. Svv-selic had always been the one in the middle of the group whenever they all stood or walked together, with Thrr-gilag and Nzz-oonaz flanking him and generally keeping their mouths shut. This time, it was Thrr-gilag, the short one, who held center position as they walked over to the glass wall of his cell.

  And it was Thrr-gilag who spoke. "Good day, Cavv-ana," he said. "You well?"

  "Reasonably well," Pheylan replied, wondering if he should comment on Thrr-gilag's new status and deciding it was probably best to ignore it. "I could use some sunlight, though. It's been a long time since I was outside."

  For a moment Thrr-gilag seemed to study him. "That your doing," he said. "You must not go where forbidden."

  "I didn't mean to do anything wrong," Pheylan assured him. Just one more bit of evidence, if he'd needed it, that that white pyramid thing out there was extremely important to these people. Apparently, Svv-selic had been demoted because of it. "We humans are curious, that's all."

  "So you said," Thrr-gilag said. "Do you want go outside?"

  Pheylan looked at Nzz-oonaz, standing near the dog flap with the obedience suit across one arm. "Yes, I do," he said cautiously. There was something about the way they were all just standing there that he didn't care for.

  "We have question," Thrr-gilag said. "You answer question, you go outside."

  So they were finally getting around to the inevitable interrogation. "Let me go outside first," Pheylan said. "Then I'll answer your questions."

  "Question first," Thrr-gilag said. "If you refuse, no go outside."

  Pheylan pursed his lips. "Compromise," he suggested. "I'll answer your questions while we're outside."

  For a moment Thrr-gilag stood there, apparently considering the offer. Pheylan held his gaze, mentally crossing his fingers. The more he could get them to back down-on anything-the more potentially useful precedents he would have set for future negotiations.

  And to his mild surprise Thrr-gilag did indeed back down. "You answer question outside," he agreed. "If not, you not go outside again."

  "All right," Pheylan nodded. "But remember that if you do that, I'll die."

  "You not die," Thrr-gilag said. "We not allow." He gestured, and Nzz-oonaz knelt down and stuffed the obedience suit through the dog flap.

  They watched as Pheylan changed clothes. "Do as we say," Thrr-gilag warned as he opened the cell door. "Else punish again."

  The weather outside wasn't nearly as pleasant this time as it had been four days earlier. The sky was completely covered with gloomy bands of gray and dirty-white clouds, and a moderate increase in the earlier cool temperatures was more than offset by the gusty winds that swept restlessly across the landing area, kicking up clouds of red dust. "This isn't going to help me very much," Pheylan warned Thrr-gilag. "Not much sunlight getting through those clouds."

  "Tomorrow come back outside," Thrr-gilag said. "Unless you refuse answer question."

  "Ah," Pheylan said, grimacing to himself. So that was why Thrr-gilag had backed down on the question of an open-air interrogation. He'd seen the weather and had known full well that they weren't giving anything away for free. "Fine," he grunted. "Let's hear these questions."

  "One question only," Thrr-gilag said. "T
ell everything about weapon CIRCE."

  Pheylan's stomach tightened into a hard knot. So there it was: the dark fear that had been lurking at the back of his mind ever since he'd first realized that Commodore Dyami's personal computer had been captured intact.

  The Zhirrzh knew about CIRCE.

  "I don't understand," he stalled. "What do you mean?"

  "CIRCE," Thrr-gilag repeated. "Do you refuse tell?"

  Pheylan looked over at the white pyramid and its three surrounding domes, trying to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do now. The survival of humanity might well hinge on NorCoord's ability to use CIRCE against the Zhirrzh and those invulnerable warships of theirs. The more the Zhirrzh knew about the weapon, the better their chances of coming up with a defense against it.