“Does that change anything?” she asked.
“Was everyone killed?”
“My, no!” Kri’nni more or less sat up now, and found a nearby liquid drug to sip. “Momma got out many little pregnant queenlets. They’re in hiding now in the mazes,” the Bella=Arth. term for the tunnels and eggchambers that lay beneath the nest cities of Deneb XII, many of them never excavated. Where now, doubtless, the spa refugees’ every move was being monitored by Kri’nni’s Arth. pals, Mart was certain.
“Naturally, Momma won’t admit to it publicly,” Kri’nni said, “but I think you might tell everyone.”
A defeat for the Matriarchy. More power to the Oppos. And, Mart thought with a twinge of regret, also for the Maudlin Se’ers, to whom the Quinx had given free rein to provoke the riots.
“It would be clever (very Arth. ((and undrone))) if the Quinx rescued them.”
“Wouldn’t it?” Mart agreed. “And showed them with their babies on Inter. Gal. News.”
“Possible?” Kri’nni asked.
“Very!”
“Now’s the time to take every advantage (opportunity ((hit them hard!))), you know, Mart.”
“There are more riots already,” Mart said. “Two Centaurs were killed on Benefica. A group of them were attacked and beaten on Trefuss.”
“It’ll get worse. And for your sake, it should get far worse.”
“Let’s hope,” Mart said.
“Hoping is for pupae, Mart. Warriors act. Sounds like equicide time to me.”
Mart faced her calmness. “You mean kill the Centaurs?”
“All you can find. It’s the only way you’ll be able to organize your many disparate groups into a solid movement (force ((hive))). Give them one clearly achievable goal, Mart. They’re looking for one. I’ve heard,” Kri’nni paused for effect, a very un-Arth. thing to do, “those four-legged ones live in Momma’s own sleeping suites on Wicca World, exercising undue influence. I’ve heard” – that pause again – “that one of them may even guide and control the old Queen Herself”
Mart Kell’s own spies in Melisande had reported the same thing for a decade now. But it had never been useful to him before.
“It could be done. The Church of Algol is terribly exercised about the matter. We could easily arrange for the rioters on MC planets to get closer to their Centaurs and –”
“Not just the Centaurs on the MC worlds, Mart!” Kri’nni’s sibilants made her words sound far less innocent than they were. “All of them!”
He looked at her: no indication from her pose that she had just suggested genocide for an entire species.
“Are you sure of so drastic a thing, Kri’nni?”
“If you don’t do something drastic now, Mart... . Let’s be intelligent. You can’t take Momma on directly. She’s too strong. Even with the distraction of the rebel tincans, Her ladies outgun you twenty to one. But now, here’s a cause you can get wide support for, inside and outside of Momma’s realm (territory ((scent-trail area))). Do it. And see if Momma fights back to protect Her ponies – if She doesn’t, you’ve won a battle. But if She does, you’ve won a war!”
If the Quinx didn’t do something drastic now, Mart calculated, the City would miss the best political opportunity that had come its way in centuries for fatally wounding an already-staggering Matriarchy. And worse, Mart himself would miss his best opportunity for more control of the Quinx. But Kri’nni was wrong about killing all the Centaurs on their homeworlds. No one would go for that, and it would merely serve to turn anyone wavering between the Matriarchy and Hesperia back toward the MC. No, there had to be some intermediate position. Provocation of Centaur killings on MC worlds, and then ... something else.
“Branklin will never go for it,” Mart argued. “He’ll be horrified by the idea. He’ll table the motion before I can explain all of its benefits.”
“Get rid of Branklin. He’s too old. Too soft (un-Bella=Arth. ((without any carapace))).”
Mart would like to do exactly that. Ole Branklin was second in charge and had always been the Quinx’s moderating voice. But Kri’nni was right. The time for that kind of moderation was over. Drastic action was required on that front.
“More members than Branklin would stop it,” Mart said, with what he hoped was finality.
“I don’t see why. It’s not as though those creatures are anything other than the results of ancient interbreeding themselves!”
The Bella=Arth. statement of fact: ruthless, inexorable.
“Tell me, Kri’nni, what’s in it for you?”
“It’s evident, no? Species revenge upon Momma.”
“There were males at Deneb XII, too. Hesperians, even.”
“Momma had the ammunition,” she said simply. “Momma made the moves.”
“Provide me with everything you’ve got.”
“I’ll have recorded holos at the Quinx meeting. The spa in flames. Centaurs in the bedrooms of Melisande. Everything. But it’s up to you to make it work, Mart.”
He pulled on his hood and visor, slipped on his air-sandals, looking like another wild City adolescent and said, “I’ve got a feeling, Kri’nni, that this meeting is going to be fun (very Arth. style ((a real palp exciter)))!”
Kri’nni sipped her drug and said, “I love it when you talk dirty!”
The Quinx meeting had been going on for some time when Mart Kell finally arrived. Helmut Aare Dja’aa was speaking to the matter on Deneb XII, which was even worse than North-Taylor Diad had assumed when he agreed to meet Gemma Guo-Rinne on Markab Lambda and obtain passage to the beleaguered resort world.
Diad still didn’t know what he was doing at this Quinx meeting. No one had called on his expertise or asked his opinion. Yet Mart Kell had insisted he be here, so he had been forced to miss his Fast to Markab. But why?
Ole Branklin interrupted Dja’aa. “Should Hesperia’s role in obtaining passage for the Interstellar Metropolitan of the Church of Algol to Deneb XII be discovered, I believe it’s fair to say the consequences would be great. The Matriarchy –”
“The Matriarchy has just suffered a major defeat!” Mart Kell’s voice sounded out in the chamber. The figure of a teen thrasher on air-sandals skidded down one of the curving ramps along a petal of the lotus-shaped Quinx meeting hall, causing a stir among the legislators. The platinum-Plastro-suited figure came to a spinning stop at the chamber’s circular heart. The head visor was tilted back, revealing the emerald eyes. A skullcap was removed, uncovering the bronze hair: Mart Kell himself.
“What’s the meaning of this bizarre getup?” Branklin sputtered. “And this entrance?”
Kell ignored him. “I was late.” He half bowed to Dja’aa, Truny Syzygy, Llega Francis Todd, and Kars Tedesco, the other members of the Inner Quinx, seated floating upon the central dais, then said, “Two hours ago, Hesperian time, the Alpheron Spa fell to the rioters on Deneb XII!”
He waited for the collective murmuring to pass.
“Most of the remaining women are safely hidden at Hymenoptolis,” Kell added. “Where we should be able to get at them.”
“Get at them?” Branklin asked. “What for?”
“Why, to rescue them, of course.” Kell smiled mischievously. “It’s clear that the Matriarchy can no longer protect them.”
Llega Todd understood. “Will their offspring be with them?”
“Naturally,” Kell said, “and, naturally, Hesperian Inter. Gal. will be there to display holos of mothers and children – and their gratitude.”
“How quickly can that be done?” Dja’aa asked.
“As soon as Ambassador Without Portfolio North-Taylor Diad can leave Hesperia!” Mart Kell said, seeking and locating Diad’s face in the chamber.
Kell was beyond clever, Diad thought. “I can leave anytime.” He stood up in readiness to leave.
“Thank you, Ambassador,” Kell said. “Stay a bit longer.” He turned and took his seat on the dais. “I’m assured that the women will await his arrival. Speed is not
of the essence in this matter; timing is.”
“It will be a public relations coup for Hesperia anytime it happens,” Truny Syzygy said. “What else –”
Kell stopped his speech with a gesture. “I believe it’s the moment for this august council to make perhaps the most important decision of its long and distinguished existence.”
“Is this ...? What are you saying ...? Do you wish to make a formal proposal to the full Quinx, Lord Kell?” Branklin finally asked the constitutionally required words.
“I do. And I would like all to listen to this proposal without bias or preconception. Does the Inner Quinx accept these terms?”
The five nodded agreement. “Does the entire Quinx?” Kell asked. And accepted a murmured assent.
“Gratitude! Understand now that what I’m about to say may seem harsh, perhaps even cruel. But I believe that circumstances warrant the most drastic action. We all know that the Matriarchy is our enemy. Since the founding of Hesperia, every Matriarch has attacked our City either directly or indirectly, sought to take away its independence, or attempted to destroy its economy – by which alone it continues to exist. We have formed the only consistent Opposition to the Matriarchy’s all-pervasive galactic control over the past few centuries, and have done so only by virtue of our natural resources, the wealth those have brought us, and our own willingness to never take any political role which might be construed by the Matriarchy as openly rebellious.”
“A policy which has stood us well,” Branklin said. “We don’t need a history lesson, Lord Kell.” The rest of the council hushed Branklin.
“We Hesperians have been cunning and clever and resourceful,” Kell went on. “But we’ve always been servants, never master. We’ve never been more than mere servants to every Wicca that existed.”
The insult drew protests among the chamber. Kell waited until they had died down.
“It’s the truth, and you all know it. But now, my fellow Cityzens, the opportunity to become truly independent, equal – who knows, perhaps even greater than the Matriarchy – lies within our grasp, if we but seize the opportunity.”
“What opportunity?” Tedesco asked. “A few pregnant women?”
“Listen, and then collate these facts,” Kell said. “The Cyber rebels have drawn off half the Matriarch’s fleet into the Fornax sector of the Carina Arm, where they sit, stewing, uneasy, on edge, yet frozen in place while Wicca Eighth looks for one of Her notoriously insidious ways out of a bad situation. Any intelligent person must know that unless a cure is found for their microvirus, the Cybers have won their battle with the Matriarchy. The MC has put its enormous resources and best minds to work toward that end, further shredding the Matriarchy’s once-vaunted Unity of Purpose and Cohesion of Action. And now, now one of their little experiments on Deneb XII has gone awry. No, more than awry, all wrong. Allowing us a wedge. Our propaganda campaign for the Alpheron Spa incident has worked beyond our wildest hopes, focusing galactic attention upon Deneb XII. And, for the first time in centuries, Hesperia is considered by all right-thinking Humes to be in the right, and the Matriarchy in the wrong. The Maudlin Se’ers support us. The Orion Spur Federation has given their support. Important Women all over the Matriarchy itself have seen the corruption of their government, its abuses, its potential for tyranny. Many of them have listened to our cause and offered their unofficial aid and future official aid to us. Hesperia has never been stronger, the Matriarchy never weaker.”
“Here! Here!” Several Quinx members raised the shout.
“What good is that?” Kell asked. “What good is our strength unless we utilize it? Now! Use it to strike the Matriarchy where its complacency and stagnation and corruption has festered, right at its very heart!”
More cheers for Kell. The tycoon was a surprisingly effective orator; a real speechmaker, Diad thought.
While the council was still roused, Kell gestured for a holo showing the refugees from the Alpheron Spa: women, a few MC pilots, and the children – four-legged infants. It was poor quality, obviously taken by a nonprofessional, perhaps even a tourist trapped with them. Even so, the chamber became quiet.
Kell said, “If anyone has any doubts about what was going on in that spa on Deneb XII, these holos should put those doubts to rest.”
The holo shifted now to scenes from MC Headquarters on Melisande, Wicca Eighth Herself in the Matriarchal Council Chamber, a huge room, in conference, leaning back to listen to her Centaur councilor before speaking. It shifted to another location, somewhere above a bedroom suite – from its size and luxuriousness, obviously that of a high official in the MC. And there was a Centaur male, just coming into view, part of its lower torso wrapped in a bath towel, its fine long-haired mane prominent on its long neck as it reached out and lightly grasped a Hume woman, who turned into its arms. The chamber was completely silent now.
“I don’t think we need to show the entire recorded holo.” Kell gestured for the holo to end. When it was off, he faced the full council. “Through our carefully placed contacts within the Matriarchy itself, we’ve obtained dozens of holos quite similar to this. Should they be made public –”
“Hesperia would never stoop to that!” Ole Branklin shouted.
“Which is why Hesperia continues to retain its independence only at the caprice of Wicca Eighth – and Her Centaur lover!” Kell retorted. “Isn’t it time” – he faced the full chamber – “Hesperia grasped control of its own destiny?”
“Excuse me, Lord Kell,” Llega Francis Todd spoke. “How do you propose we do that? What, precisely, are your intentions?”
“My intentions are as follows. Within the next thirty hours Sol Rad., Hesperia rescues the women and infants on Deneb XII and displays that rescue and those unfortunates on Inter. Gal. for all to see. Shortly thereafter, all the prelates and the Interstellar Himself of the Maudlin Se’ers will utilize the Inter. Gal. Comm. network to demand an end to the interbreeding. You know there already have been incidents on various worlds. When we show some of our collected footage of holos about the extent of Centaur influence within the Matriarchy itself, those riots will turn massive and nasty, and they’ll spread to other worlds not yet affected. Even, I have reason to believe, on Wicca World itself. Our agents provocateurs and the Church of Algol will see to that. As all that is occurring, Hesperian forces, along with forces of the Orion Spur Federation, will be arriving at the Near Norma Arm, Sector Fourteen –”
“The Centaur homeworlds system?” Branklin gasped.
“Where, under the guidance of a member of the Inner Quinx, we will begin a program of complete blockade between the Centaur worlds and the rest of the Matriarchy to ensure that such interbreeding madness cannot again occur.”
“Which will be reported via Inter. Gal. Comm., so all can see where Hesperia stands on the matter,” Dja’aa said.
“And what it will do to back up what it says,” Kell added.
Diad thought everyone in the room was holding his or her breath at the galactic impudence of the idea. He certainly was.
“That’s my proposal,” Mart Kell concluded. “I throw it open to discussion.”
The outburst that ensued was astonishing to Diad, who had never suspected that these fifty-five tycoons and civic leaders could possibly be other than cool and collected businesspeople. The din went on for minutes until Llega Francis Todd, as Chairman of all Quinx meetings, called them to order with some difficulty.
“I have one question, Lord Kell,” she said. “Which I believe I heard asked by several colleagues just now. What if the MC decides to interfere in the blockade against the Norma homeworlds and engages our forces?”
“Lady Todd,” Kell answered almost with a bow, “that is exactly what I am expecting to occur.”
More astonishment from the legislators.
“Our forces will be outnumbered. They will hold on as long as they can and then make their escape,” Kell said, “although not without engaging the MC forces enough to allow it to be considered a bo
na fide battle.”
“Which we will transmit in full on Inter. Gal. Comm.” Syzygy was beginning to understand the scale of Kell’s scheme.
“Especially to those worlds where rioting is occurring,” Tedesco added.
“I see. Yes, I understand,” Llega Francis Todd said. “Gratitude.”
“Any other questions or comments?” Kell asked. “Lord Branklin, I believe you wish to speak?”
“What you’re proposing” – he could barely contain himself – “is ... It’s ... monstrous! Riot! Genocide! Commercial blockage! It’s appalling!”
“I’m afraid, Lord Branklin, I completely agree with your estimation. It will be most unpleasant. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of Centaur nationals may die in the rioting. And there’s no way to know how many of our people will lose their lives in the battle against the MC forces. But the fact remains that once the blockade is publicized and the battle with the MC is networked to trillions of its subjects, the Matriarchy will have lost all pretense of following the wishes of the people it governs. Its back will be broken.”
“It’s completely barbaric. It’s a return to Metro.-Terran chaos!”
Diad sighed. Branklin was right, of course. And, of course, it meant nothing that he was right – because Mart Kell was also right.
“There will be planned chaos only,” Kell said. “It will not directly affect Hesperia. In fact, the only way in which Hesperia will be at risk is if our courage fails us along the way. We must carry out this plan rapidly and ruthlessly. Then victory is ours. I’ve thrown open the council to questions and comments.”
And they arrived. But not as many of them as Diad had expected – and virtually all of them were of a practical nature: How quickly could the vast fleet of Hesperian Fast haulers and tourist liners be armed completely to support the usual defense forces? What assurances had come from the Orion Spur Federation? And what pledges of Fasts and soldiers? What extra defense would the City need? And which of the resort worlds were to be protected and used as fueling stations? All the questions were adequately responded to. For centuries, without any warlike intentions, Hesperia had kept its defense systems in readiness for just such an eventuality, so much did it prize its independence. Even its last-ditch coercion, the self-destruction bomb located at the heart of the City, threatened during the First Matriarchy, was still in place and remained an effective weapon.
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