by Timothy Zahn
Manta's fins spasmed painfully as he abruptly reversed direction. Protector Virtamco? Tigrallo's replacement, the one Manta had run away from after Drusni had turned him down? That Protector Virtamco?
It was him, all right. Directly below, Manta could see Virtamco's familiar color pattern swimming toward the three Counselors, his back unnaturally stiff, another Protector at his side. "Wait a ninepulse," he called, trying to push himself downward toward them. "What charges?"
"He allowed you to escape from his guidance and care," a male voice came from behind him.
Manta rolled over to look. Two Qanska, a Protector and a Nurturer, were swimming toward him. "He let me escape?" he asked stupidly.
"He was chosen by the Counselors and the Leaders and the Wise to accompany you," the Protector said. "He failed in that task. He must therefore face judgment."
"But it wasn't his fault," Manta protested, still pushing against his own buoyancy. Running away had been his idea, not Virtamco's. He had to get down there and make them understand that.
It was no use. With the bigger Protector now on trial, the whole court was sinking downward toward the more comfortable—at least for the Counselors—air density of Level Five. Already they were beyond a Breeder's reach, and heading still deeper.
With a sigh, he gave up the effort. "What are they going to do to him?" he asked as he started drifting upward again.
"That's what the trial's supposed to determine, isn't it?" the Protector told him acidly.
"Come on, Manta," the Nurturer urged more quietly, giving him a gentle nudge. "This level can't be very comfortable for you. Let's go."
"Where are we going?" Manta asked. Not that he really cared. If Drusni didn't want to see him, it didn't much matter where he went.
"The Counselors think you need to see more of our world," the Protector said. "So that's what we're going to show you."
Liadof had warned that she would be seeing him again soon, Faraday remembered, just before she'd thrown him and Milligan out of the Contact Room. Faraday had taken the threat seriously, and had spent the walk back to his quarters organizing his thoughts and the arguments he would make in his defense.
But as he sat in his quarters, and the minutes dragged into hours, he began to wonder if she had somehow forgotten her threat. The hours stretched in turn into days, and he began to wonder if she could possibly even have become incapable of carrying it out.
Finally, on the fourth day, he had a visitor.
But it wasn't Liadof.
"Hello, Colonel," Hesse said, ducking his head in a slightly nervous-looking nod as the Sanctum cop outside ushered him in and closed the door behind him. "I hope I'm not intruding."
"Not at all," Faraday said, getting up from the desk chair where he'd been working and gesturing to it. "Please; sit down."
Hesse hesitated, glancing around the room. "Well..."
"Please," Faraday said again, crossing to the bed and sitting on the edge.
"Thank you," Hesse said. Gingerly, Faraday thought, he swiveled the chair around to face the bed and sat down. "I should first apologize for not coming to see you sooner. I meant to, but there were... certain difficulties."
"I can imagine," Faraday agreed. "Frankly, I'm surprised you were able to get in to see me at all."
Hesse waved a deprecating hand. "Arbiter Liadof is from the Five Hundred; I'm from the Five Hundred. Professional courtesy, you know."
"Really?" Faraday said, lifting his eyebrows.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Hesse asked cautiously, squirming slightly in his chair.
"It means you look like you're sitting on a fire ant nest," Faraday said bluntly. "Let me guess. Liadof doesn't know you're here at all, does she?"
Hesse swallowed. "Well... to be honest... but actually, it doesn't matter."
"That's clear," Faraday said dryly. "You want to explain it in English now?"
Hesse took a deep breath. "Okay," he said, letting the breath out in a whoosh. "Okay. Bottom line is that the Omega Probe fiasco has put the Five Hundred into a complete uproar. The whole thing was Arbiter Liadof's personal baby, and now it's sort of spit up in everyone's face."
Faraday chuckled. "And the Five Hundred are somewhat perturbed?"
"That's putting it mildly," Hesse said, relaxing a little. "She's spent most of the past few days in her private communications room here on the station, working like crazy to shore up her support."
"Against whom?" Faraday asked. "Pressure from some other faction?"
"Pressure from at least two other factions, actually," Hesse said. "Things still haven't completely settled down, but it looks like her group will manage to hold on to their position, but with their strength seriously diminished."
"I see," Faraday said. "You'll forgive me if I don't leap for joy, Mr. Hesse, but I've heard all this before. You get whispered rumors that change is in the air, but somehow nothing ever really comes of it. Sort of like a forecast of a cold front in the middle of a Central North American summer."
"I understand," Hesse said. "But this time, it happens to be true. It's practically guaranteed that they're going to have to make some concessions or compromises if they want to hold on to their power."
"Well, personally, I'm not going to hold my breath," Faraday said. "But okay, let's assume for the moment that it actually happens. What's it going to mean as far as Jupiter and the Qanska are concerned?"
Hesse's lips compressed briefly. "Arbiter Liadof believed that her—well, let's call it what it was. That her extortion plan was the quickest way to get hold of a Qanskan stardrive. She managed to convince the rest of the Five Hundred, which was how she got approval for Omega in the first place. Now, there's going to have to be some serious rethinking."
"What kind of rethinking?" Faraday pressed. "That could just mean redesigning Omega to be Vuuka-proof and sending it back down."
"And that might be the direction Liadof will be pushing," Hesse agreed. "But the other factions are going to have their own ideas, too. Hopefully, one or more of them will be acceptable to those of us who know the Qanska best."
"That would be nice for a change," Faraday said, eying the other closely. "Let's back up a step. Where and on what are you standing in all this alleged chaos?"
"Oddly enough, I'm standing square in the middle of it," Hesse said, his lip twitching in what might have been an ironic smile. "I've been invited by one of the factions to represent their interests here."
Faraday blinked. "You? Forgive me, but... you?"
"I agree, actually," Hesse admitted candidly. "But who else have they got? It would take weeks for them to choose someone else, bring him up to date on Changeling, and then get him out here. In the meantime, Liadof would have essentially a free hand."
"I suppose that makes sense," Faraday conceded. "Congratulations on the promotion. Now, where am I standing?"
"Well, actually, that depends on you," Hesse said, starting to look nervous again. "I've been directed to ask what it would take to obtain your cooperation and support."
Faraday had imagined a lot of scenarios erupting around him as a result of the Omega Probe disaster. Being invited to join a palace coup hadn't been one of them. "Interesting offer," he said. "Though I'm constrained to point out that my influence around here is not exactly at a high point right now."
"You might be surprised," Hesse said. "You're still a hero, you know, with a name that's known and respected all across the System. That name might be enough to tip the balance of power if things got tight enough."
He smiled faintly. "Plus, of course, you have a certain level of expertise on Jupiter and the Qanska in general."
"None of which will be of any use without a good team backing me up," Faraday said. "What's happened to the three Alpha Shift people Liadof had arrested?"
Hesse shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "They're due to be shipped back to Earth on the next transport," he said. "Liadof's ready to load a bunch of charges on each of them, up to and including treason for Milligan and Spr
enkle. Cooperating with the enemy under fire, I think the statute is she's using."
"Get the charges dropped."
Hesse's eyes went momentarily wide. "Colonel, I can't do that."
"I thought you represented a powerful faction of the Five Hundred," Faraday said. "Fine. Let's see just how powerful they are."
"You're asking them to directly challenge Liadof's group," Hesse hissed as if afraid of being overheard. "I already told you they're not ready to do that yet."
"You also told me the Five Hundred are currently embroiled in a great and wonderful spirit of compromise and concession," Faraday reminded him. "See how far that spirit will stretch."
"I don't think it'll stretch that far," Hesse said. "I mean, after all, Liadof blames Alpha Shift for her failure, and she's determined to make an object lesson out of them."
"In that case, your group should point out that object lessons can cut both directions," Faraday said. "If they get put on trial, all the facts of the case are going to come out. All of them; including the fact that the Qanska have a stardrive."
Hesse frowned. "What's the problem with that? No one in the Five Hundred was planning to hide it from the rest of the System."
"The problem is that you don't have it yet," Faraday told him. "And the way things are going, you're not going to have it any time soon, either. Trust me; you announce something like this to the general public, and you'd better be on the verge of trotting out a working model."
Hesse winced. "I hadn't thought about that," he said slowly. "You're right, that might be a lever we can use against her."
"You could also remind her that all three are pretty small fish," Faraday added. "She can afford to throw them back."
"I suppose it's worth a shot, anyway," Hesse said reluctantly. "All right. Anything else you want?"
"That I want?"
"As the price for your support," Hesse said. "You must want something. Right?"
"You've been in politics too long, Mr. Hesse," Faraday said, hearing an edge of disgust in his voice. "Not everyone in this universe acts solely on the basis of what they think they can get out of it."
Hesse reddened. "I'm sorry, Colonel," he said. "I just assumed..."
"Tell me your faction's views on the Qanska," Faraday said. "What are your goals regarding their lives and safety, and our relations with them?"
Hesse pursed his lips. "To tell you the truth, I really don't know," he admitted. "I'll ask, though."
"Do that," Faraday said. "Then we'll see what kind of support I can give them." He looked around the cramped room. "Assuming that I continue to have a position to support anyone from, of course."
"I wouldn't worry about that," Hesse assured him. "If Liadof's faction didn't have the nerve to toss you aside before Omega, they certainly can't risk doing so now. As I said, you have the name and the prestige."
He stood up, a kind of jerky motion that made him look like he was on strings. "Anyway, I'd better get going."
"One more question," Faraday said. "What happened with Manta?"
Hesse blinked. "Oh. Right. Nothing much, actually. He had to go on some sort of trial to account for his actions. But after some discussion they let him off."
"How big a trial was it?" Faraday asked. "Who was there?"
"I didn't ask," Hesse said. "I can if you want me to."
"This is all coming from Mr. Beach, I presume?"
Hesse hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, but please don't mention that to anyone else," he said. "He's still more or less in Liadof's good graces, and it wouldn't do to have her know he's been talking outside the Contact Room."
"I understand," Faraday said. "And you say Manta was allowed to leave?"
"Yes, but not alone," Hesse said. "This time they gave him two baby-sitters: one male, one female. I guess they don't want to lose track of him again. Last we knew, they were headed south."
" 'Last we knew?' " Faraday asked, frowning. "Aren't we still watching him?"
Hesse shook his head. "The spy probe's low on fuel," he said. "Liadof decided we'd do better to leave it near the herd and keep an eye on them instead."
"Especially since Manta isn't likely to be useful to her anymore?" Faraday suggested acidly.
"Something like that," Hesse conceded. "Sorry."
With an effort, Faraday refrained from cursing. "What about Drusni? Is she all right?"
Hesse shrugged helplessly. "As far as we know, she's still alive and undergoing treatment. But she's gone into seclusion, outside the spy probe's range."
"Figures," Faraday muttered. "Do me a favor, will you? Let me know the minute you find out anything about her."
"Sure," Hesse promised. "And I'll get in touch with my supporters right away and see if we can get those treason charges dropped."
"And find out what their plans are for the Qanska," Faraday reminded him.
"Right." Hesse stepped to the door and rapped twice. "I'll let you know as soon as I hear something."
The door slid open. "Thank you," Faraday said. "I'll see you later."
Hesse nodded. "Good-bye, Colonel."
The door slid shut behind him. Faraday listened for a moment as his footsteps retreated down the corridor. Then, shifting position, he stretched out on the bunk. Lacing his fingers behind his head, he stared up at the plain gray ceiling.
So it had started. He'd known it would eventually, given the sheer scope of the Omega Probe disaster. Liadof was undoubtedly fighting for her career here; and she struck him as being one hell of a fighter.
He was rather surprised to find Hesse involved. But in retrospect that made sense, too.
But at least things were in motion. All he could do now was wait, and watch for a chance to snatch something good out of the political chaos. For himself, and for McCollum, Sprenkle, and Milligan.
And, if he was very lucky, maybe even for Manta.
TWENTY-ONE
Ahead, in the gathering gloom, Manta could see a long, thick cloud of dark blue drifting on the wind. "How about here?" he suggested. "This looks like a good place to stop for the sundark."
"You must be joking," the big Protector beside him snorted. "You know how many predators are probably hanging around a run of breekis that size?"
"Especially Sivra," the Nurturer added. "Three or four different packs can sometimes hide in a run that big, just waiting for an unwary Qanska to come close."
"So let's not be unwary," Manta argued. "I'm hungry."
"You're always hungry," the Protector said with a sniff. "We'll find some place a little safer to eat."
"Of course I'm always hungry," Manta muttered under his breath. "That's because you never want to stop to eat."
"What was that?" the Protector challenged.
Manta grimaced. "Nothing."
Giving the breekis a wide berth, they continued on. And for probably the ninetieth time in the past two ninedays, Manta decided he hated this.
Hated this; and hated them.
Their names, which they'd finally and grudgingly given him, were Gryntaro and Wirkani. They were apparently not a bonded couple, but putting together bits and pieces of their conversation Manta had concluded that they had nevertheless been swimming together for quite a long time. From the look of Gryntaro's lumpy body, it was clear he'd gotten into a lot of fights with both Vuuka and Sivra. From the smooth lines of Wirkani's, it was also clear she'd been equally successful in avoiding them.
"Here we go," Wirkani said, flipping her tails to the right. "See? A nice little run of ranshay, just waiting for us."
"I see it," Manta said, making a face as he looked at the brown smudge drifting in the wind. It was ranshay, all right, which meant they wouldn't go to sleep hungry. But without any of the silvery-blue jeptris to spice it up, it was going to be a disappointing meal.
"You might be a little more grateful," Gryntaro rumbled as he angled toward the run.
"Sure thing," Manta muttered. "Watch me being grateful."
"Come on, Manta," Wirkani said encoura
gingly. "Don't mind Gryntaro. There's plenty for all of us."
Manta sighed. Gryntaro was the epitome of the rough-and-tumble, no-nonsense type of Qanska, the sort who would be instantly and unanimously put in charge if the Counselors and Leaders and Wise ever decided to organize an army and take on the Vuuka in a straight-up battle.
He also had all the compassion of Pakra leavings, and if he had even a breath of humor between his fin tips Manta had yet to spot it. The sort of Qanska you'd want beside you in trouble, but probably wouldn't invite to go off eating with you.
Wirkani, in contrast, was almost a complete opposite. She was unfailingly cheerful, to the point where she practically drove Manta insane sometimes, and had a tendency to mother him that was rather embarrassing.
And yet, where Gryntaro's gruffness seemed genuine, Wirkani's pleasantness felt somehow artificial or forced. Almost as if she was play-acting for his benefit.
Or maybe for Gryntaro's. Maybe she really didn't like him any more than Manta did.
In which case, why swim with him at all? Because Latranesto and his Counselor buddies had told her to?
He sniffed under his breath as he caught up a mouthful of ranshay. Back at his trial, he'd concluded he was being let off easy. Now, stuck with these two, he wasn't so sure anymore.
Something moving to the side caught his eye. He looked up—
"What?" Gryntaro asked sharply, looking up too.
"Oh, it's just a Brolka," Wirkani said soothingly. "Nothing to be afraid of."
"I know what it is," Manta growled, watching as the miniature Qanska snatched a few bites from the other side of the ranshay run and then darted off. It was the first one of the creatures he'd seen since he and his new companions had left the Centerline.
And the sight of it reminded him that he never had figured out what exactly they were.
Well, no time like the present. "Or rather, I don't know," he amended. "What are those things, anyway?"
"They're Brolka, of course," Gryntaro said, glaring at him. "Don't play silly games."
"I'm not playing games," Manta insisted. "I never even heard of Brolka until twenty or thirty ninedays ago. Where do they come from?"
