Conquerors' Heritage (28 page)

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Authors: Timothy Zahn

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #Adventure, #Space Warfare, #War Stories, #Interstellar Travel

BOOK: Conquerors' Heritage
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"I obey," Thrr-mezaz said, standing up with him. "Is there anything else about all this I should know?"
"Nothing that's not obvious," Dkll-kumvit said. "A communicator relay pathway will be set up before the Mrachanis arrive at the encampment, with continuous contact between Dorcas and Warrior Command to be maintained during all interactions with them. You may ask general questions concerning their purpose here, but I'll be the only one authorized to perform a complete and formal interrogation. Unless the Overclan decides to send an official alien-studies team-that part's still being worked out. And, of course, the same policy concerning the Elders is to be observed with these aliens as it was for your brother's Human-Conqueror prisoner: they're not to be given any reason to suspect the Elders' existence or presence."
"I understand," Thrr-mezaz said.
"Good," Dkll-kumvit said. "Then good luck, Commander. And be careful."
It was another tentharc before the alien spacecraft came swooping in from the west, its engines making a strange twittering drone sound as it came into earshot. Ahead of it flew one of theRequisites transports; on either side were a pair of Thrr-mezaz's Stingbirds. All of the beachhead's aircraft were in the sky, watching tensely for the move Thrr-mezaz half expected the Human-Conqueror commander to make.
And at one point an enemy aircraft did indeed appear, drifting almost casually to a point near the edge of the extended air perimeter the Stingbirds' positions had defined. But the aircraft flew back without threat or challenge, disappearing again into the Human-Conqueror stronghold. The Copperhead warriors, thankfully, did not appear at all.
Thrr-mezaz was waiting as the Mrachani spacecraft came down, a translator-link firmly planted in his ear slits, a similarly linked optronic speaker on his shoulder. This spacecraft was much larger than the one the Cakk'rr had tangled with near Cataloged World 592, he saw, and as it rolled toward him, he wondered uneasily what sort of weaponry it carried. If its true mission was to get into the Zhirrzh encampment and try to obliterate it...
But the spacecraft rolled to a stop without incident in the center of the circle of light formed by the spotlights the technics had rigged. A hatchway and ramp appeared in one side; and as Thrr-mezaz stepped to the foot of the ramp, two aliens appeared at the top and started down.
The reports regarding the first Mrachani spacecraft had arrived at the Dorcas encampment the previous fullarc, so Thrr-mezaz had some idea what to expect. Even so, the Mrachanis were something of a shock. Roughly Zhirrzh-sized, they were slender creatures, with heads and necks coated in short fur like some kind of small animal. Their faces were flat, much closer in appearance to Human-Conqueror design and arrangement than to Zhirrzh faces. They looked harmless, even friendly.
Except that one of their kind had already opened fire on a Zhirrzh ship. It wouldn't hurt to keep that thought in mind.
The Mrachanis reached the foot of the ramp and started speaking. Thrr-mezaz waited, catching an occasional word here and there from his brief and hurried studies of the Human-Conqueror language, until the translation began to come through his translator-link. "We bring greetings to the Zhirrzh people. I am Lahettilas, representative of the Mrach people. We are not your enemies. We are your friends. We wish to discuss the possibility of working together against our common enemy, theMirnacheem-hyeea."
"I see," Thrr-mezaz said. ThatMirnacheem-hyeea thing had been in the Overclan Seating report. Conquerors Without Reason, the other Mrachani had translated it: the Human-Conquerors. "I am Thrr-mezaz; Kee'rr," he told them, gesturing to the waiting warriors. Three of them stepped forward and handedkavra fruit to Thrr-mezaz and the two Mrachanis. Thrr-mezaz sliced his and waited.
The aliens' response was interesting, and far different from the one Thrr-gilag had observed back on Base World 12 from the Human-Conqueror prisoner. Whereas Pheylan Cavanagh had simply shown that his tongue wasn't like those of the Zhirrzh and had offered thekavra back, the two Mrachanis seemed bound and determined to duplicate Thrr-mezaz's action. Their tongues were as unequal to the task as the Human-Conqueror's had been, but they had a go at it anyway. Using the clawlike extensions of his fingers, Lahettilas struggled to dig a short and rather shallow groove in thekavra's skin, while the other alien did likewise with his teeth. Thrr-mezaz watched their efforts with mild interest, trying to decide whether he preferred their attempts to act like Zhirrzh or Pheylan Cavanagh's more honest and straightforward acceptance of his limitations.
It took another hunbeat, but eventually the Mrachanis seemed to decide that they had satisfied whatever honor was inherent in this ritual. Thrr-mezaz handed hiskavra back to the warrior, and the aliens did likewise. "Now," Thrr-mezaz said, lowering his hands to drip the remainder of their accumulated juice onto Dorcas's soil, "let us speak. You offer the Zhirrzh your assistance. Tell me why you believe we need such assistance."
His shoulder speaker gave the translation. Thrr-mezaz watched the aliens closely, noticing the sudden stiffening of their fur. A reaction to his question? Lahettilas spoke again-"Surely the Zhirrzh cannot stand alone against the Humans," the translation came. "Surely not against the weapon CIRCE."
Thrr-mezaz frowned. CIRCE? There hadn't been any reference to a weapon called CIRCE in any of the reports he'd read. "The Zhirrzh have mighty weapons, too," he said, wondering if he should ask about this CIRCE thing or pretend he knew all about it. "Perhaps instead we should-"
"Commander Thrr-mezaz!" a thin voice snapped. Thrr-mezaz looked up, to see an Elder hovering directly over the two aliens. "You are to halt this line of questioning immediately."
It was obvious from the way the Mrachanis glanced around that they'd heard the words. Fortunately, by the time they got around to looking up, the Elder was gone. "But this is no place for such discussions," Thrr-mezaz improvised, gesturing again to the warriors and thankful for once that Elder voices couldn't be picked up by optronic microphones. "Your living area is across the landing field. Come with us."
The warriors fell in beside them, and together they all headed across the open space, the spotlights following their path the whole way. Klnn-vavgi and more warriors were waiting for them there, lined up beside the door to the storehouse that they'd hurriedly converted into living quarters for their visitors. "Here is where-" Thrr-mezaz broke off, glancing over his shoulder as the darklight beam connecting him with the interpreter belatedly caught up with him. "Here is where you will stay," he began again. "Two warriors will be on duty outside this door if you need anything. If you will tell me what you need from your spacecraft, I will have it brought to you."
"Thank you," the translator said in Thrr-mezaz's ear slits a few beats later. "Everything we need is in the five cases waiting inside our spacecraft at the top of the ramp. We do not need them quickly."
Or in other words, Lahettilas was fully expecting the Zhirrzh to search their luggage before turning it over to them. Not only expecting it, but rather magnanimously giving them his permission to do so.
Which was just as well. Thrr-mezaz had been planning to search the cases whether they liked it or not. "We will deliver them to you as quickly as possible," he promised the alien. "The warriors will show you inside. Someone will be here later to see you."
"And then there will be talk?" Lahettilas asked.
"Yes," Thrr-mezaz said. "Then there will be talk."
18
For a few brief hunbeats, just before sunset, the sky to the west had been reasonably clear. But that hadn't lasted long; and now, with the last reddish tinges fading from the edges of the clouds, the gap had mostly closed up. Standing at the door of his protector's dome, breathing deeply of the cool evening air, Thrr-tulkoj gazed out at the gathering clouds and wondered idly if they were heavy enough to spill some rain.
He hoped so. Nearly all of the Elders liked rainstorms, at least the quiet, civilized sort. The steady drumming of rain on the shrine; the gentle, almost tickling sensation of the drops that made it through the insect mesh to dribble onto their preservedfsss organs; the restless, capricious breezes whispering around the shrine's corners-it all made for a welcome change for them. A respite from the dreary routine and decreased sensory abilities that figured so strongly in an Elder's life.
He looked up at the sky again. On second thought, he amended, it would be better if the rain held off until next fullarc or at least much later this latearc. It would be a shame for the fleeting pleasures of a rainstorm to come when the Elders couldn't properly appreciate them. With virtually all of them clustered over in Cliffside Dales right now listening to the speakers at that Overclan-sponsored debate/discussion, the noise of a rainstorm would just be a distraction.
Across the path the other dome opened up, and a young Zhirrzh stepped outside. Thrr-aamr, freshly recruited to the position of protector of the Thrr family shrine. "Good latearc, Protector Thrr-tulkoj," he said, nodding politely at his superior. "You're here rather late."
"And going to be later still," Thrr-tulkoj told him. "I got a message a few hunbeats ago on the direct-link that Thrr-brov is ill, so I'll be taking his shift this latearc."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Thrr-aamr said. "Do you want me to call one of the Elders and have him track down a substitute?"
"Don't bother," Thrr-tulkoj said, flicking his tongue in a negative. "I'm not tired; and anyway, the Elders are all having a big argument over at Cliffside Dales. I wouldn't want to interrupt their fun."
Thrr-aamr grinned. "I understand. Anyway, I've finished the fullarc's statement and sent it across to your recorder for approval. I've also gone ahead and started the twenty-fullarc review of the current shrine population. Is there anything else I should be working on?"
"Nothing comes to mind," Thrr-tulkoj said, frowning at him. "Aren't we about two fullarcs early for a population review?"
Thrr-aamr shrugged. "I thought that, given how quiet it's likely to be this latearc, I might as well go ahead and get it started now."
Thrr-tulkoj smiled wryly. The kid might be young and fresh to the job, but already he'd caught on to the chief reason family shrines still bothered with protectors. Not to protect them, but to have someone on hand at all times for lonely Elders to talk to. "Point well taken," he said. "Sure, keep going with it."
"Yes, Protector."
Thrr-tulkoj glanced at the sky again. "On second thought, as long as you're already on your feet, why don't you go ahead and do a perimeter walk first. The initial section of a population review mostly runs itself, anyway."
"Yes, I know," Thrr-aamr said, reaching into the dome and picking up his laser rifle. "I'll be back soon," he added, slinging it over his shoulder and starting down the path toward the gate.
"No rush," Thrr-tulkoj said. "Might as well enjoy the air and make a really good check of the fence. As you said, it's going to be a quiet latearc."
"Sure thing," Thrr-aamr said.
Thrr-tulkoj stepped back into his dome and touched the door button. The curved wedge of material slid closed on its track and sealed; and as it did so, the dome abruptly seemed to vanish as the special ceramic turned one-way transparent. For a few beats he watched Thrr-aamr make his way toward the predator fence gate, now sealed for the latearc. Then, stretching once, he turned around and sat down on his couch, swiveled now to face the shrine. For a beat he gazed up at the brilliant white surface, growing dim as the sunlight faded out to the west. Then, dropping his attention to his desk, he activated his recorder and began reading Thrr-aamr's fullarc statement.
Across the darkened chambers came a quiet knock at the door. Frowning, the Prime looked up from his recorder. "Come in," he called.
The door opened. "Good latearc, Overclan Prime," Speaker Cvv-panav said as he stepped inside. "You're up late. I take it I'm not intruding?"
"Not particularly," the Prime said, not entirely truthfully. "Can I help you with something?"
"No," Cvv-panav said, closing the door behind him. "I just thought I'd stop by to tell you that it's started."
"What's started?"
"The retrieval of Thrr-pifix-a'sfsss organ from her family shrine, of course," Cvv-panav said, settling himself down on the visitor's couch in front of the Prime's desk. "Surely you hadn't forgotten?"
"Hardly," the Prime said, looking at his armwatch. "I'm a bit surprised at the timing, that's all. It won't even be fully dark out in Kee'rr territory yet."
"It's dark enough," Cvv-panav assured him. "Certainly for a theft from a couple of simple and unsuspecting shrine protectors." He paused. "And, of course, the slightly early timing should help in getting the jump on all the rest of it, too."
The Prime eyed him. "All the rest of what?"
Cvv-panav smiled tightly. "Come now, Overclan Prime. You didn't really think I was foolish enough to take your story at face value, did you? Thrr-pifix-a being a threat to the stability of Zhirrzh culture, and all that?"
"That wasn't just a story," the Prime said quietly. In the darkness behind Cvv-panav, he could make out the image of the Eighteenth, hovering there listening. "Thrr-pifix-a's attitude is a genuine threat to the legal and traditional bases of Eldership. One that has cropped up more than once in the past five hundred cyclics."
"Oh, I have no doubt of that," Cvv-panav agreed. "And I have no doubt that you see it as a danger of sorts. But we both know what you see as thereal threat to your power."
The Prime flicked his tongue. "You?"
"Very good," Cvv-panav said approvingly. "No feigned surprise; no false astonishment. And all by itself it proves that I'm right."
The Eighteenth was still there, still listening. An emergency communication link that Cvv-panav didn't know about, should this whole thing go badly wrong. "You're wrong," the Prime told Cvv-panav. "I guessed only because I understand how you think. That you see yourself as one of the High Warriors of old, who will lead the Dhaa'rr to glorious domination of the eighteen worlds. The breakwater that all other Zhirrzh must throw themselves against, to destroy or else be destroyed by."
"All politics is warfare, Overclan Prime," Cvv-panav said. "All of life is, for that matter. It's a battle of wills and of strength. Of course you're out to destroy me. That's the natural order of things."

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