by Chris Bunch
"Stop!" one shouted. "Confederation Military!"
"Confederation goddamned late!" Dill roared back. "Ben's playtime now!"
He kicked the man on his knees in the chest, knocking him flat, then deliberately high-stepped forward, foot turning, and stamp-kicked down, into the man's throat, crushing his hyoid.
Dill turned, saw the four holding guns on him, sneered.
"Little late, like I said."
"What the hell are you doing here?" Stef Bassas,
I&R, RaoForce demanded, recognizing the hulking officer.
"Going for a swim before a nice off-duty dinner, not that it's any of your business," Dill growled. "And aren't you forgetting something?"
"Sorry," Bassas said, "sir."
"Better," Dill said, recognized another of the I&R team. "Mahim, isn't it?"
"Yessir," the woman said, putting her pistol away.
"What's the excuse?"
"Half a dozen left their consulate at the same time," the woman said. "We picked the wrong ones to fly cover on, not figuring anybody'd try to drygulch someone around the Shelburne. Obviously, we were wrong."
"You're a medic, aren't you?"
"Yessir."
"You interested in tending to any of these casualties?"
"Don't know, sir," Mahim said. "Are any' of them still alive?"
Dill looked around. "He's gone… he's gone… he's a lunger and probably gone, but you could mess with him if you wanted… the guy I head-butted'll probably be okay, even if his mommy won't recognize him."
"Not really that interested, sir, thanks for the offer."
"Tell you what," Dill went on. "You people go on about your business… which I assume is protecting Musth… and I won't snitch you off for being a little on the laggard side, 'kay?"
"What about them?" Bassas asked, pointing a thumb at the two Musth.
"You let me worry about my friends," Dill said. "And next time, do a better job of bodyguarding, or I'll do something about it after I get through personally wringing your necks."
"Yessir," Bassas said, and the four faded into the night.
"Sorry for what happened," Ben Dill said. "This is generally a pretty safe place to be."
"You came in," one Musth said. "Helping usss."
"Good eyes," Dill said. "Yeh. So what?"
"I do not know we would do that for you."
"Wouldn't expect you to."
"And, if I heard your wordsss correct, thossse othersss are sssoldiers, too, and asssigned to protect us? Without our knowing about it? Without telling our warrior leadersss?"
"That's an interesting guess," Dill said.
"We are in your debt."
" 'At's right," Dill said cheerfully.
"How may we charge that debt?"
"You mean discharge, I hope."
"Repay isss the word I sssought."
"You have any Confederation money?"
One Musth fished in a belt pouch.
"We have been given sssome."
"It better be enough to buy me a drink. C'mon, you two. Let's go slumming."
The Musth looked at each other in what might have been puzzlement, then followed the enormous human toward the beckoning hotel.
"Gentlemen," Mil Rao said. "Have a seat."
"This is Dr. Froude," Hedley said.
"Doctor," Rao said, "I'm sorry I haven't taken the opportunity to meet you, but things've been very hectic."
"On my front as well," the mathematician said.
"I assume this has something to do with the navigation cylinder that was found?"
"Unfortunately not, sir," Hedley said. "That matter's proceeding apace. This is something else, and something a lot worse."
Rao's congeniality vanished.
"Go ahead."
"Dr. Froude told me, just after he volunteered to help us with the charts Ho Kang acquired, he wished the Force would use science more than we do, that we should analyze things more systematically. Something came up, and I decided to take advantage of his offer."
Hedley was watching his language around his CO with a civilian witness.
"I happened to notice something, going over an I&R training-mission report I thought was a bit strange. I checked other reports back as far as the initial Musth arrival. Most of them reported the same thing as the first one: when I&R teams went out, at some point they saw a Musth aksai nearby.
"No interference or contact was made with our soldiers at any time by the Musth, incidentally.
"However," Hedley said, face most grim, "two things became apparent: These aksai only materialized after the unit had operated its com.
"Dr. Froude, what is the probability of those appearances being purely by chance?" Rao asked.
"So close to zero the difference is immaterial."
"The Musth have broken our standard code," Rao said. "That is just the sort of intel I needed before midday meal."
"Worse, sir," Hedley said. "I ordered I&R to use other codes, which they did. And for two weeks, the Musth still showed up, just like clockwork mice. Then they stopped coming at all. Obviously they've got somebody on their intelligence staff who got worried we might be on to them, and changed the rules."
"How many of our codes are they reading?"
"Most of the normal low-level ones," Hedley said. "Plus our emergency code… and the code used between this headquarters and PlanGov for emergencies."
"This is not good," Rao said. "Not good at all. I wonder how long they've been reading our mail?"
"Since the rebellion, at least, sir," Hedley said. "I've taken a hard look at some of their miraculous appearances, which get a lot less miraculous with what we have now."
"All right," Rao said. "So we've got to change the codes from top to bottom."
"Yes and no," Hedley said. "Doctor Froude presented an option, and I think we ought to consider it."
The man who used the name Ab Yohns sat in a nondescript lifter down the street from the Musth embassy in Leggett. He could just as easily have surveilled the waterfront building with a planted camera from his comfortable house in the mountain villa of Tungi, outside Leggett, to do his thinking. His campaign was still nowhere near action phase.
But he found it helped if he could see the enemy, or at any rate have some reminder of who they were.
He considered the possibilities he'd uncovered, and of Protector Redruth's orders.
He frankly thought Redruth, if not mad, to be deluded and certainly egomaniacal, even though he'd never met the man. So the Musth had spoiled Redruth's plans for the moment. So? There were other moments.
And as for his latest orders… the operator thought that would more likely worsen the situation, possibly irretrievably, rather than improve it for Redruth.
But that was none of Yohns' concerns. He prided himself that he always carried out an assignment, assuming it wasn't suicidal and the credits were good.
He'd done many well-paying jobs for Redruth, from the Confederation to this Cumbre system, and thought it somewhat amusing he'd never had a face-to-face with the man who'd made him fairly rich.
So he'd continue to serve, as long as the credits flowed, and the danger wasn't suicidal.
If the worst case did happen, as had so nearly occurred when he'd nearly been caught making his last transmission, Yohns had a small yacht in a hidden bunker deep in the jungle, and Redruth would send a ship to pick him up once he exited the Cumbre system.
So if what Redruth had ordered ruined Cumbre… Yohns mentally shrugged, without ever moving. The only sign of life the napping rustic showed was the flicker of his eyes, watching the consulate in the lifter's rearview scope.
The problem was, he decided, there wasn't a target he could reach yet that was big enough to fulfill Redruth's needs.
But there would be, he knew.
"Sir," the technician reported, "one of our remote sensors on M-Cumbre reports ships in-system."
"What's the ID?" Rao asked.
"Musth, sir. They match the pro
file of the mother ships they came back in. Except that one is big. Really big."
"Do you have an orbital prediction?"
"Affirm, sir. Destination is suggested to be E-Cumbre."
The Musth headquarter world.
"Continue observation," Rao ordered, and touched the red sensor.
Alarms shrilled across D-Cumbre, and the Force scrambled to full alert.
Chapter 7
The Musth ship was monstrous, dwarfing its escorts. It looked like an archaic artillery shell, with flying buttress-like "wings" tipped with smaller, manned "bullets" supporting, along with antigravity, the ship's bulk. The Musth called it a striking-point-commander; humans might've typed it a command flagship. Since the Musth were never sentimental about machinery, it had only a number, not a name. It was Clanmaster Paumoto's mobile headquarters.
It sat on one of the great landing fields of E-Cumbre, which the Musth called Silitric.
Silitric was E-normal, if a bit chilly for human comfort, with small oceans dotting the rolling tundra and low mountains. Virgin forest covered the heights. The Musth had only built three bases close to the mountains, half-underground, and only half-occupied at the busiest of times. Thus far, few Musth had found their interests leading them toward Cumbre.
In one of the ship's conference places, Clanmaster Paumoto listened to Aesc and Wlencing. When they finished, he rose from his tail-brace and went to a view-screen, looking out at the subarctic landscape without seeing it, head darting back and forth as he thought.
Finally, he said, "I thank you for sharing this with me, even though I have no immediate interest in your actions."
"Would you care to give us your opinions?" Aesc answered.
"Perhaps," Paumoto said. "It might be of value if I make you aware of what is currently the thinking on our own worlds.
"Your actions in returning to Cumbre have been hailed by many. Keffa and his clique in particular are saying you are building the crossing to the inevitable future.
"Of course Senza and those of his ilk think you are bringing disaster on us, returning us to our barbaric past. You'll probably be the cause of interstellar war between us and Man, and so on and so forth, and they want immediate withdrawal. None of which makes the slightest sense, but there are other Musth, motivated by their own concerns which follow different trails than yours, who agree with them."
"Which side is growing stronger?" Aesc asked.
"I would hate to be held to an opinion," Paumoto said. "But I would hazard a guess that there have been some of the 113 masters who favored your action who've retreated to the side of neutrality, and perhaps a few of the neutrals have decided to favor Senza's course."
"Then we are losing," Wlencing said.
"Not necessarily," Paumoto said. "But that is why I wished this conference to be on my ship, for I am assured it is completely sealed, and, while I'm confident you two share my views, I'm not so confident about other Musth, who might well be a link to Senza and his faction."
"We are very interested in any help you might offer," Aesc said.
"If something were to happen, some sort of incident," Paumoto said carefully. "Something that shows the true depths of Man, something that would horrify our race to its base—"
He broke off. Both Aesc and Wlencing had their mouths open, hissing from the backs of their throat, indicating amusement.
His ears cocked for an instant, then he understood.
"Ah. I am bringing salt to the ocean?"
"We have had exactly that idea," Aesc said. "And since the men are being most uncooperative, we are trying to increase the possibilities of such an event."
"We have moved down among them, establishing what they call consulates, as you suggested some time ago," Wlencing explained. "We deliberately emplaced these in parts of their cities where we know, from our studies of Man's patterns before the uprising, crime is most likely to occur, and the lower classes congregate."
"Very clever," Paumoto said. "Something happening to an underling, while unpleasant for them, could be most helpful to the rest of us."
"Just so," Wlencing said. "Unfortunately, we face a rather clever foe. Our idea seems to have been found out, and their soldiers are providing unobtrusive security to our people."
It was Paumoto's turn to be amused.
"So the leaper dances back and forth with his enemy," he said, referring to a popular board game, "and larger pieces are stymied, and the game is in impasse."
"I'm not sure it is that knotted," Wlencing said. "Hardly beyond resolution."
"We are moving very carefully," Aesc said. "We want to make sure that, whatever incident occurs, there is no chance of it being, let us say, misinterpreted by Senza and his milk-drinkers."
"Good," Paumoto said. "Again, I appreciate your subtlety, System-Leader Aesc."
"We could remain here all the planetary day," Wlencing said, "using nice words to each other, while nothing happens except the sun moves. I have a question, Clan Leader. You say you have no immediate interest in the Cumbre system, yet you have visited us, without notice.
"I am hardly a cub, to assume you have done this merely from your innate desire to assist us."
Again, Paumoto showed amusement.
"Of course not," he agreed. "There are several contributing factors to my decision to visit Cumbre. I had already planned a periodic visit to some of the worlds I am involved with, and the jumps to Cumbre were not all that difficult to make. Another reason is that I have found the extraction of minerals of interest from time to time, and the geological reports on the riches of Cumbre are interesting.
"But there is a more pressing reason. Like you, I despise the direction Senza wishes for the Musth to take. He is an utter fool, who doesn't realize a race, like a being, is either growing or dying.
"Only in expansion, continued expansion, to the limits of the universe, can the Musth fulfill their destiny, not to mention achieving the greatest personal benefits and satisfactions.
"The Cumbre system is but a beginning. If we hold here, if we reduce Man to his proper role of a humble servitor, the way lies open for us to expand into the worlds Man formerly held. We can follow the Confederation's steps, avoiding worlds or systems that were not beneficial to them, and be handed golden world after world as our reward.
"No, I am hardly a fool who believes helping others without self-interest is sane."
"Then," Aesc said, "I have a suggestion, Clan Leader, on how you might assist us."
"Short of murdering one of our own minorlings with a man-gun, I would be delighted," Paumoto said.
"This ship is impressive. Perhaps we should announce a receiving on Man's world for you, a well-known member of our 'government,' " Wlencing said, putting the last word in Standard.
"I do not speak the tongue of Man," Paumoto said.
"A government consists of an agreement they make among themselves, or else something another one imposes by force of arms, for all to behave in a certain manner for a prolonged period of time, supposedly for each other's mutual good. The ultimate example is what they call the Confederation."
"An absurd conceit."
"True. But this is the way they claim to think."
"That is not thinking, but dreaming," Paumoto said. "But I veer with the surprise of that thought. Of course we should do some sort of showing of our potential force. I do not see how that will accelerate the time of reckoning, but when it does come, as I agree it must, the memory of our strength will certainly make them quail, and a cautious foe is already half-defeated."
"Mighty big ship up there," Garvin drawled. "Intimidating and all."
"You're right, boss," his first tweg said. "If somebody put, oh, eighty kilos of Blok, nicely shaped, right on the edge of that fin there, which'd most likely cut right through its structural integrity, and maybe dump a Shrike right in the middle of their antigravs, that ship'd make a mighty big splash when it went down."
"If you two clowns can stop parading your testosterone," Njang
u said, "you've got to admit the bad guys have a pretty healthy mother over there."
Everyone on Leggett—and across a good-sized piece of Dharma Island—had to agree. The Musth ship towered almost as high as the Heights the Rentiers lived on, and could be seen not only on Chance Island but across the bay to the far peninsula. Three of the mother ships flanked it, almost filling Leggett's main port.
"The thing that gets me," he continued, "is their escorts are bigger than anything we've got to play with."
"If they're trying to impress us," Garvin reluctantly agreed, "they sure succeeded."
"And you, boss, you lucky little felmet ," Njangu said, "will get to be really impressed, by the way. The Musth are having a reception aboard, and the old man decided I&R'll be a nifty honor guard, white gloves, spit-shined heinies, and all."
"Buddha's illegitimate mother!" Lir swore. "We're not a bunch of parade-ground fakers!"
"At least we can afford the white gloves," Njangu snickered.
"What?" Monique puzzled. Garvin hadn't told anyone in I&R besides Njangu about Jasith's gift, and gave Yo-shitaro a somewhat dirty look.
"Never mind," Njangu said. "Rao wants us to wave the sabers around because he thinks he might need a bunch of thugs looking innocent within easy reach, like happened with Redruth. Just in case this grand party turns into a big nasty."
"Oh," Monique said, relaxing. "Not bad. Boss, shall I fall the troops out and start helping them remember their ceremonials?"
"Couldn't hurt," Garvin said. "They're really gonna love this one."
"We've flipping got it," Hedley said. Beside him, Ho, Froude, and Heiser beamed exhaustedly at Rao and Angara. "Every point checks between our charts and the Musth. We can… I already had one of the patrol ships try it… use their coordinates to jump around the system."
"Congratulations," Rao said. "Now, what do we do with it?"
"Why," Froude said, a touch indignantly, "we'll use that information to decipher other Musth charts, which will give us kilotons of data about their planets."
"And where do we get said other charts?" Angara asked.
"Why, steal them," Heiser said. "Just like Ho got the first one."
