“Ayee—what an ingenious ploy, dear K!rikkl. I am delighted that you were so diplomatic in your play.”
“It is bad manners to dine on the host,” K!rikkl acknowledged.
“Your manners, dear K!rikkl, are as impeccable as your deceitfulness.”
“Thank you, my Lord.”
“But I cannot get over how . . . simple it all seems.”
“Simple indeed, Lord Hnaxx. But it does require patience—that is why there are not many grubs this well trained.”
“That is lucky for us—or we might have to change the rules of the game. As it is, I foresee great possibilities inherent in this knowledge.”
“Indeed?”
“Indeed.”
The Gang of Four
Madja Poparov could swear in six different languages.
At least that was how many Yake could identify before he lost count. There were several he couldn’t identify. He simply listened in rapt admiration for several minutes before he attempted to interrupt.
“Excuse me,” he said politely, “—I may be mistaken, but I think you repeated yourself there.”
“I did not!”
“I think so, yes. The derogatory comparison between the breeding habits of pigs and capitalists; I think that parallels the statement you made about the copulatory practices of politicians and goats—”
Madja frowned as she attempted to recall what she had said several minutes earlier. “Is possible,” she admitted. “I was being very enthusiastic.”
Yake grinned. “Would you care to boil that communication down to its essential points?”
“Hmp. Is simple. Ad hoc committee is not a committee at all, Mr. Yake Singh Browne. The ‘Old Man’ as you so lovingly refer to him is acting like the consummate politician he is. You and I, we are trouble-makers—I more than you. I raise unpleasant point in meeting. You make mistake of agreeing with me—”
“You were right—”
“Is still mistake. You agree, no? No matter. Ambassador does not want disagreement, but must demonstrate—in case there is trial later—that all points of view were fairly heard. He listens to you and I, then makes us special committee. Larson and Kasahara are here to give committee credibility, no?”
“No—” said Larson.
Poparov ignored her. “If just you and I, Yake, then it looks like he is removing all his bad eggs from the same basket. But by putting other person here too, he invests committee with hair of credibility. Very smart. If you and I come up with something, we get to be heroes; if we don’t come up with something, we are—what? What is expression for empty-handed idealist?”
“Empty-handed idealist.”
“Yes. You and I, we have been put where we cannot cause any trouble. I am sorry I take you down with me. You are good manager. Not a good leader, but a good manager. Is two different things. I am good leader.”
“And modest too.”
“Yes. Thank you for noticing.”
Yake blinked. Was that a serious response—or had she topped his own gibe. Sometimes with Madja Poparov it was hard to tell. He rubbed his hand through his bristly hair and scratched his head in puzzlement.
“You know,” Kasahara interrupted. “You guys are both missing something. There might be another possibility here too.”
“What?” Anne Larson looked up for the first time.
“Maybe, just maybe, the Ambassador thinks we’re smart enough to come up with something that nobody else can; a solution that isn’t so damned insulting.”
“Is good point, Kasahara. I owe you apology. I make mistake of not seeing that possibility.”
“Hm,” said Yake. “Out of the mouths of babes.”
“I must admit—” said Madja, “—It does not seem a very likely possibility to me, but it is the only possibility that we can accept that is not insulting to us—hmm? Is same problem, right? So! All right. Let us snatch victory from mouth of deceit, right? Right! If we solve it here, we solve it anywhere.” She looked around the room for agreement.
Anne Larson nodded cautiously. Kasahara allowed himself a tiny smile of hope.
Yake thought about it for half a second, then looked Madja directly in the eyes. “Okay, right. Let’s try it.” He took a sip of his coffee. It was going to be a long night. He sighed and began: “Let me throw this out as a . . . a working assumption. A place to start from. What would an acceptable solution look like? What are the particles of it?”
“Honor,” suggested Kasahara in a quiet voice. “It would have to be honorable.
Yake looked over at Nori, surprised. “I thought you were a pragmatist.”
“I am. Honor is pragmatic.”
“Hm. Okay. A solution has to be honorable. What else?”
Madja put up a finger. “I think solution must be fair. If it is not fair, one side or other will begin to resent it, question it, work against it. We have seen this in our own dealings.”
“I can believe it,” said Larson.
“I will ignore that one,” said Madja, nonchalantly. “Coming as it does from the representative of senile colonialism.”
“How kind of you,” Larson smiled back.
“Let’s stay on purpose,” said Yake. “Anne, what about you?”
“I’m pragmatic.” Larson pronounced her words carefully, and with a very proper English accent. “I want it to be workable. We should be able to pay our debts without resentment or punishment. No human being should be hurt in the process or be forced to do anything that goes against his or her humanity. And yes, I’d like us to be able to keep our pride.”
“Hm,” said Yake. “Hm.”
“Eh?” said Madja. “Is something wrong?”
“Not really. I was hoping for a little more agreement here.”
Larson looked surprised. “I thought we were in agreement.”
“You guys are, yes.”
“Ah,” said Madja. “What is it you are asking for, Yake? What would good solution look like to you?”
Yake said it flatly. “Revenge.”
They blinked.
Yake spread his hands before him to show that he was hiding nothing. “I feel like I’ve been betrayed. I want to get even. Everything that each of you have said is absolutely correct and proper and appropriate and should be at the top of our list of criteria for an acceptable solution. “But if we can have all that, and have an appropriate revenge too, that’s what I’d like.”
Kasahara nodded politely. “I wouldn’t object to that.”
“Neither would I,” agreed Larson.
“But of course,” said Madja. “What good is solution if you can’t also enjoy it?”
No Small Reward
Hnaxx reached across the intervening space and stroked the fore claw of the young and lovely Rrr. “Thank you for a most enjoyable and successful mating,” Hnaxx said. “Your enthusiasm and your delight are well appreciated. I shall reward you to the utmost should the larva prove healthy.”
Rrr nodded its head in gentle acquiescence. It was still too young to talk with much fluency, it had eaten its way out of its own host grub only a few seasons past.
Hnaxx let its claw linger on Rrr’s for only a moment longer, then stood to address the rest of the gathering at the table.
“My lords and colleagues—” Hnaxx clacked its mandibles loudly for attention. The pavilion fell silent quickly as one green triangular head after another swiveled to that angle of the table. The large bright eyes all glittered like jewels.
“Let us honor the service that has been performed for us,” Hnaxx began. “Let us honor with loud enthusiasm.”
The room filled with the sound of clacking mandibles and rasping hind claws, even a few delicious hoots as Hnaxx continued. “The young and clever K!rikkl has provided valuable information to this Nest and we shall all prosper from it for many years. We are more than simply enriched. We are more than momentarily enriched. We shall ever be enriched by this service, both exemplary and extraordinary. Let us honor the one who has made i
t possible.
“Let us make K!rikkl one of us, flesh of our flesh, body of our body.”
Hnaxx looked around the room at the other members of the powerful Trrrl-t nest. They were fat and juicy and their great multi-faceted eyes were focused like spotlights. “On your behalf, oh Noble Lords, the humble Hnaxx promised K!rikkl that the Nest stood ready to serve him—and tonight, we shall.”
Hnaxx clacked his fore claws loudly.
Instantly, six sturdy servants strode into the room, carrying a great wooden platter upon which K!rikkl’s body was cracked, pinioned, roasted, split, sauced and sliced. The guests applauded enthusiastically, rattling their mandibles and rasping their hind legs loudly and vigorously.
“A great honor! A great honor!”
“A beautiful feast! Bravo! Bravo!”
“How delicious the young Ki! looks!”
Hnaxx lowered itself next to Rrr again. “We shall impregnate many fine grubs, shall we not, my tenderness?”
Rrr rasped its claws demurely and labored to speak. “I stand ready to be mounted, my lord.”
“And so you shall. So you shall.”
Hnaxx turned to K!rikkl’s steaming corpse in the center of the room and broke off the first tender leg. The juices dripped appetizingly from K!rikkl’s foreclaws. Hnaxx felt gratified that the presumptuous, ill-mannered, ambitious and insulting young Ki! had met an appropriate fate. Delicately, Hnaxx cracked the shell of K!rikkl’s claw and inserted its long yellow proboscis.
A moment of hesitation—
Yes.
K!rikkl was delicious.
Hnaxx stood up and announced, “The flesh is sweet! Let the feast begin!”
It was a grand evening! A grand evening indeed.
There would be much honor for the Nest as a result of this evening. Indeed, three problems had been solved with one feast. What to do about K!rikkl, what to do about K!rikkl’s grub.
And one other matter, which must somehow be discussed privately with the Great Egg-Master.
Until then, of course, Hnaxx indulged most delightfully and enthusiastically in both of the major pleasures of the flesh. K!rikkl’s and Rrr’s.
Seldom was the resolution of an affair so satisfying.
The rest of the evening’s entertainment proved equally successful: Of course, the temperature songs and the orchard dances were a delight. They always were. As they wound to their inevitable and hilarious conclusions, many of the guests found themselves in extraordinarily revealing and indecent postures. Of course, they hurried to redress themselves, they always did; but there would be many embarrassing anecdotes to be told in the days to come. After that, the pheromone sprays delighted almost everybody and even caused Old Yll!br to leap onto the table and attempt to mount what was left of K!rikkl’s body in a (so Old Yll!br claimed) bawdy demonstration of northlander mating techniques. Of course, there were those who suggested otherwise, that this was not a demonstration of northlander mating techniques at all, that instead Old Yll!br had actually been overcome by the giddy sprays of hormonal influences. It sometimes happened in the elders, you know . . . when they reached that time of life.
But the big surprise of the evening was reserved for the darkness after the moons set. It happened when the guests began to filter out into the night to chew their aromatic herbs. Abruptly, there was a chorus of chirruping fanfare and the night was flooded with brilliant light of all colors.
Hnaxx had caused to be erected a huge tower of incandescent electric lights. They coruscated up and down through the entire visual spectrum; they glittered and flashed with brilliant intensity, illuminating the darkness with colors never before seen on this red-lit world. The guests all gasped with delight and horror. Their bright skins shone with multiple reflections that crawled across their carapaces like neon parasites. They stood and basked in the light and giggled with embarrassment at such juvenile displays of wonder. The whole thing was terribly gaudy and obviously very expensive. The perfect delight. Beautiful and impressive both. The guests circled the tower in fascination. Several of the younger ones even tried to climb the tower; but it had been deliberately constructed to prevent them from climbing too far.
Even Hnaxx was surprised at the intensity of the delirium induced in the guests. The vendors had warned of this profound hypnotic effect, of course; but it was one thing to hear a fact and another to experience it. Indeed, Hnaxx found it quite difficult to resist the light itself. The urge to climb the tower was nearly irresistible.
Fortunately, Hnaxx had been warned of this phenomenon and had stayed a respectable distance away from the tower when it was illuminated. To some degree, this diluted the tropic power of the display. Without the warning, Hnaxx would have been as eager to succumb as the guests.
The off-world vendors had also warned not to leave the tower lights burning for too long, or it might risk burning out the eyes of the guests. Consequently, the machinery had been designed to flicker and flash for a short while only and then gently fade to a quiescent glow and finally back to darkness. It could not be triggered a second time.
It was during the loudest part of this distraction that Hnaxx, obedient and honorable young Ki! that it was, reluctantly broke away and slipped quietly back into the festival pavilion where the Great Egg-Master waited patiently. The Egg-Master was still sitting impassively at the table.
Hnaxx approached on its belly, bowing its head to acknowledge Master’s great age and wisdom.
“You have done well, young Hnaxx.”
“It is a privilege to serve the Nest. I am grateful for the honor.”
The Egg-Master blinked slowly and turned its head sideways to study Hnaxx. It swiveled its glittering multi-faceted eyes up and down as it focused. “You may speak.”
“Thank you, my Master. I am pleased to report to you that the secret of the grubs is safe again, my Lord. We have tracked down every one of those who came into possession of our sacred knowledge and dealt with them appropriately. K!rikkl was the last of the last who knew. Tonight, K!rikkl’s debt to this Nest has been well repaid.”
“Indeed it has.”
“I have not asked reward, Egg-Master. I never shall. It is reward enough to serve. Thank you for letting me have the honor of this duty. I stand forever ready to serve the Greater Trrrl-t Nest.”
“You have done only what was expected of you, Hnaxx,” whispered the Egg-Master. “That requires neither thanks nor acknowledgment. No reward could be asked in such a situation; and no reward shall be given. The only acknowledgment of your usefulness is that you shall continue to be used. But you understand that, of course.” The Egg-Master rattled its mandibles and added, “There is still much to be done. May I speak plainly?”
“Master—?”
“We have not the time for the usual painless abstractions of courtesy; otherwise, your clever devices will not distract the guests long enough for us to say what we have to say to each other. Besides, the matter I would discuss with you is of such grave import that neither of us could risk the consequences of a communication that is less than precise. So I shall speak to you like a lover. Do you understand me, young Hnaxx?”
“I understand, my Master. I shall die before I compromise your candor.”
“I expect nothing less. Now, listen to me carefully—for I must tell you of a matter that affects every Ki! alive today, and every Ki! that will ever follow after us.”
Hnaxx wondered if it should prostrate itself before the seriousness of this topic, but the Egg-Master reached over and touched its fore claw. “This is a great burden, young Hnaxx. We are indentured to our own history. And there is a price we are still paying for that indenture.
“This world is not fully our own. It was settled first by the Fn-rr. They sought a new world, a warm land in which to nourish their roots, a place where their dreams would be peaceful and fat. They made a contract with the Dhrooughleem, the same aliens who sold you your pretty lights of distraction. It was a very expensive contract, but the Dhrooughleem promised to fi
nd a safe world for the Fn-rr. They brought the Fn-rr to this world and the Fn-rr were pleased. They found here a warm red light which bathed them and made them strong; and they thought they had found paradise.
“But after the first few summers, as they began to spread their seeds, they began to discover that this paradise was infested by vermin, by brain-eating parasites that preyed upon them in their dream time. They were horrified and enraged. As hard as it is to imagine one of the Fn-rr demonstrating any kind of emotion, they were hysterical with fear and anger. They had invested too much time and too many generations in this world, and now it had turned into a hellacious place of terror. The Fn-rr demanded that the Dhrooughleem make good on the original contract. The Dhrooughleem postulated what seemed to everyone a much better solution . . . symbiosis.
“We, the Ki!Lakken, were invited to share the expenses of colonizing this world. We would take a full third of the financial burden of the Fn-rr and in return we would bring them protection and security.
“It should have been an ideal partnership, sweet Hnaxx. The Fn-rr-detested grubs are a tasty resource to us. Their flesh is sweet; their bodies are warm; we can plant our eggs in their bellies and watch our children grow large and healthy. So, the agreement was made and the slobbering off-worlders brought our ancestors here to this planet. The contract was simple. While the Fn-rr slept, we would care for their pavilions, we would eat the grubs, we would plant our eggs. During the summers, they are afoot and we are swarming. We would grow strong, the Fn-rr would grow strong. Only the grubs would suffer.”
“Yes, my Master. And to all appearances, we have done that well.”
“Too well. We have done well even beyond appearances. Do you know the rest of this contract?”
“No, my Master.”
“The contract specifies that should either species fail to maintain its obligations to the Dhrooughleem, the other species shall come into full possession of the world. That is why we have never pushed the grubs to the edge of extinction. Should the grubs no longer molest the wandering plants, the Fn-rr would spread across our swarming grounds and in a very short time we would follow the vermin into blissful extinction.”
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