by Eric Flint
Nine Jao, all robed and well fed, their naps sleek with frequent swimming, stopped and gazed past his human service, regarding Aille with serenely black eyes. They were Bond Harriers, severed at some point in their lives from their birth-kochan for various reasons, and subsequently sworn to the military arm of the Naukra Krith Ludh. They owed allegiance to the Jao as a whole and to no kochan in particular. They even changed their names upon joining the Bond.
From Aille, the eyes of the Harriers moved to his human personal service. They spent most of their time studying the bau which Kralik, at Aille's insistence, held in his hand. The carvings on that bau were no longer simple. Not with Kralik's deeds at Salem and Sol recorded on it. Aguilera and Tully shifted uneasily under their scrutiny, but Kralik remained still and calm.
"Aille krinnu ava Pluthrak," the foremost said, "you are summoned before the Naukra to explain your actions." He was very short, for a Jao, wide of frame, short of ear. His vai camiti was intriguing, hinting at a Dano origin with its strong diagonal striping. A similar diagonal stripe on his robe indicated that he was a Bond Preceptor, one of the members of their Strategy Circle.
"We propose to judge the matter here, since too many kochan have come to be fitted easily into a ship or edifice," the Harrier said. "Do you have any objection?"
"No," Aille said. "This world remains on the edge of rebellion. I cannot afford to leave the surface now. My absence would most likely encourage one or more of the insurgent factions to act."
The Preceptor's eyes remained black and his posture elegantly neutral. He seemed to consider as the waves rolled in and the wind picked up. Avians flew in formation overhead, a curious double line joined at one end. "Your husbandry does you credit," he said at length. "It is obvious these primitives have been neglected under the deposed Governor."
"They are not primitives of any kind," Aille countered immediately, maintaining perfect calm-assurance. "That was the beginning of our error here, which I suspect was made out of anger because of their effectiveness in resisting the conquest."
The Preceptor did not seem offended. Indeed, his posture shifted slightly, inviting Aille to continue.
"Although their thought patterns do not closely mirror our own," Aille said, "they are highly intelligent. Highly civilized, also. More so than we are, I have come to suspect, in many regards. It is just a different kind of intelligence, a different shape to civilization. Disregard of that has led us into these difficulties in which we are now mired. We must adjust our views on this species if they are ever to be of use against the Ekhat. Form association with them in a different manner than we have with any other conquered species."
"You have been here but a short time," the Preceptor said. His body was almost frighteningly without affect, now not even composed for formal neutrality. Aille found it rather disconcerting—which, he suspected, was the point. "Do you really think you know these creatures better than your elders, such as Oppuk krinnu ava Narvo, who has dealt with them since the initial conquest? And even if they are all that you say, are they worth forsaking your kochan and its ties forever?"
It was a formal question, a sant jin. Aille closed his eyes and considered, as his pool-parents had long ago taught him. A formally phrased question required a well thought-out answer. Could he truly know the natives of this small green-and-blue world better than the elders who conquered it and held it for so long?
He thought of Caitlin, clever and Jao-like in her graceful postures and speech; Tully, who, despite his defiance, had demonstrated the unfailing courage and sense of duty of a Jao, over and over again; Kralik, who never faltered when the opportunity came to be of use; and Aguilera, who held to the truth even when he knew he would be punished. Were they not each one as worthy as Jao?
"Yes," he said at last, opening his eyes, knowing by the sense of peace running through him that his own must be as serenely black at this moment as the Preceptors. "I have lived with them in my quarters, watched as they strung startling new ideas together one after the other like jewels on a chain, fought at their side, and watched them die. They are unique and often difficult, but the same could be said of any promising crecheling."
The Preceptor regarded him without any visible reaction. Did he believe Aille, or did he just consider him enormously mistaken? His interrogator's whiskers twitched and then were still. "Oppuk krinnu ava Narvo is elsewhere," he said. "I shall have him brought here, at which time we will resume."
He turned and walked away, the other eight Harriers falling in behind him.
Aguilera watched, his big hands knotted behind him. "How long will it take for the Governor to arrive?" he said. "This mess has barely even started and already it's driving me crazy."
Aille knew in his bones exactly how long it would take Oppuk to be conveyed to the wind and sand and heat of this shore. He felt it, inside, like the length of a cord precisely measured, knowing as well how long he had to work before he must come back and meet his obligations. What he did not know, and most likely never would, was how to explain it to his human staff.
"He will be here when it is time," he said at last, as a small white avian skimmed overhead.
Then he turned to Kralik. "Summon Caitlin from St. Louis. She must be present."
The jinau officer stared at him. Normally impeccable in his conduct, Kralik suddenly spoke bluntly: "Why?"
Kralik and Stockwell were now bonded in preparation for marriage, Aille knew, which explained his unusual behavior. So, he explained, rather than simply commanding.
"Nothing changes now, General, on one level. This is still, whatever else, a matter between Pluthrak and Narvo. I have succeeded so far with advance-by-oscillation and I intend to continue. Nothing enrages Oppuk so much as Caitlin, because she stands as the clearest proof that his claims are false. That unsane fury, I think, will finally bring him down."
Kralik nodded, slowly, understanding the logic. Still, he was reluctant.
"It might be dangerous for her," he pointed out.
This called for a human gesture. Aille shook his head, firmly.
"No, General Kralik. It will be dangerous for her."
Chapter 41
Caitlin, Tamt and Dr. Kinsey arrived at the Pascagoula base late that afternoon. She had been working with her father in St. Louis for the past week, but then Kralik had sent for her. He said little, as was his way, but his silences communicated almost as much as words. He had not sent for her from a personal desire to see her again, as much as he might feel that also. Ed was worried, clearly enough, and Caitlin thought he had good reason.
She wasn't certain, because it was always difficult, if not impossible, to be certain about the Jao. But she suspected the assembly of the Naukra was about to begin. They had all been waiting for that, the past two weeks, with as much anxiety and fear as hope.
It was still hard to believe that only a few months had passed since the first rumors of a new high-ranking Jao assigned to Earth had filtered through to the university. So much had happened since then, and even more had changed.
Her father was hopeful. As long as Aille retained power, Earth could prosper again. It would not be the same, but she had read enough of her planet's history to know not everything that had passed away had been good. No one except fanatics would miss the political chaos of pre-conquest Earth, with its seemingly endless wars and conflicts. And with the ongoing efforts to repair the devastation in south China still at the center of the world's attention, every human was mindful of the overwhelming lesson of the Ekhat attack: find a way to live with the Jao, even under the Jao, or the human species would simply perish altogether. Left to their own resources, there was no way the human race could fend off the genocidal aliens.
As her helicopter came in for a landing, Caitlin could see her supposition confirmed. Almost the entire landing field of the huge military base was covered with Jao ships, all glittering in the last rays of the setting sun. Apparently, they had decided to convene the Naukra here rather than in Oklahoma City o
r St. Louis. That made sense—even reassured her, a bit—because it suggested that Jao of a more sane outlook and temperament than Oppuk were now in control. They would want the close proximity of the ocean.
The ships were of an amazing variety of shapes and colors, which surprised her. Somehow, she'd thought Jao designs would be more standardized.
Dr. Kinsey took her good arm, still mindful of her cast, and steadied her as they half-ran out from under the whirling blades. Tamt led the way, bent almost double. The Jao bodyguard was wary of human transport in general, and helicopters in particular. The first time she'd ridden one, Tamt had grumbled sourly afterward that with Jao transport you never had to worry about your head being cut off by the drive system.
Caitlin smiled at Kinsey as they straightened, doing her best not to grin outright at Tamt. "I won't break," she said, "at least not again. You don't have to worry about me so much."
"I don't think I can stop worrying about you, so long as Oppuk is anywhere nearby." He glanced around at the bustle of troops, both human and Jao. "I've heard the monster will be here in person. What if he—?"
"He won't lose his temper in front of all those prestigious kochan elders," she said. "He wouldn't dare." Her lips quirked in a little smile, as she looked him up and down. "Besides, Doctor Kinsey, be realistic."
He matched the smile. "Well, okay. I admit I can't see any way an elderly human—and a portly academic in the bargain—could protect you physically from that massive bastard. Even by Jao standards, Oppuk is an ogre."
Tamt's ears were now flat with displeasure. In truth, even Caitlin's impressive bodyguard would be overmatched by Oppuk in a physical confrontation—but Tamt, obviously, did not like to think so.
"I appreciate the sentiment," Caitlin replied, "but I really think you're worrying too much. Oppuk's temper tantrums are actually not normal for a Jao. He could get away with them so long as he was Governor, surrounded by flunkies. But if he tries it here, in front of the Jao's most powerful representatives, they'll give him short shrift. I hope he does lose his temper, actually. That would only hurt him—and help us."
It was still hot at this latitude, even though autumn had technically begun. Caitlin peeled off her jacket, then carried it over her good arm. Thunder rumbled in the distance, far out in the Gulf. She could see storm clouds forming into the classic anvil shape.
Old-fashioned combustion engine and converted maglev vehicles drifted back and forth on this side of the landing field, all filled with jinau soldiers. Jao were visible between the ships. Her overall impression was of barely restrained chaos.
She craned her head, checking faces. Kralik must be here somewhere.
A converted Humvee came up, and a snub-nosed blonde leaned out. "Ride, lady?" She grinned and Caitlin recognized Lieutenant Hawkins of the company Kralik had assigned to be Aille's personal bodyguard.
"I'm looking for General Kralik," Caitlin said. "Do you know where he is?"
"Matter of fact, the boss sent me to fetch you, as soon as your helicopter landed. Along with his apologies that he couldn't meet you in person."
Hawkins, clearly, had now been exposed up-close to the Jao for long enough to have picked up some Jao habits. Instead of getting out and opening the door for Caitlin and Dr. Kinsey, she simply reached across and clicked open the passenger door. "Hop in."
Caitlin, dressed in a dark-green suit and low heels she'd hoped were suitable for an official Jao gathering, hiked up her skirt and tried to climb in, with Kinsey making fumbling efforts to assist her. She was still a bit awkward, with her arm in a cast. But, luckily for her, Tamt had picked up some human habits. The Jao more or less elbowed Kinsey aside, picked up Caitlin and plunked her in the seat as an adult might do for a child.
The big Jao female and Kinsey then climbed into the back, and Hawkins immediately set the vehicle speeding off in the direction of the Jao base.
Just the other side of an invisible dividing line, Jao were literally swarming, all armed with energy weapons.
Well, that wasn't surprising. All those years with Banle as her warden had left Caitlin no illusions as to how most Jao regarded humans. Dangerous and unpredictable creatures, the Jao equivalent of "wild Injuns."
She hadn't seen Banle since Tamt had beaten her up in the clinic. She'd heard, later, that Banle had been on one of the ships in Oppuk's flotilla that had been destroyed in the battle with the surviving Ekhat warship. The news had left Caitlin feeling nothing but tremendous relief. Banle could never torment her again. It was almost like coming of age.
The vehicle swerved again, then came to an abrupt halt. It seemed the human lieutenant had also picked up Jao driving habits. Hawkins jerked her chin toward a tent set up on a stretch of sand bordering the tarmac. "In there."
Caitlin was surprised, since she'd been expecting to be brought to Aille's command center, the imposing Jao edifice that Kaul had formerly used. But she assumed she'd find out the reason for this odd arrangement from Ed himself.
"Thanks." Caitlin opened the door and stepped down, much more easily and gracefully than she'd gotten in. Tamt and Kinsey jumped out behind her, Tamt obviously relishing the softer light of late afternoon and Kinsey looking hot, windblown, and rumpled. Of course, Kinsey almost always looked rumpled, at any time.
Two jinau were standing guard at the entrance. One of them held the flap open for her as she approached.
Inside, the light was dim, even though a panel on the far side had been tied up to admit fresh air. Kralik was standing with his back to her along with a group of men and women studying an electronic display of data on a portable screen.
He looked good, she thought, solid, dependable, reassuring. Handsome, too, at least so far as she was concerned. She had to force her hands to remain at her sides.
Kralik turned, as though he could feel her there. "Caitlin!"
She flushed at the warmth in his voice, remembering that night they'd spent together before the Battle of the Framepoint, how reassuring his arms had felt, the length of his body pressed against hers—
Inhaling deeply, she thrust the image out of her mind. No time for that now. No time for anything but the problem at hand. "General Kralik," she said, deciding the situation called for formality even though their engagement was open knowledge. "You sent for me, so I came. Can Dr. Kinsey and I be of assistance?"
"Yes." He almost reached for her too, then stopped and took Dr. Kinsey's hand instead, then hers, shaking them firmly. "Good of you to come, both of you. The Naukra is apparently convening a hearing—or however Jao think of it—tomorrow morning, we think, to examine the Subcommandant's actions here on Earth and decide what response to make. Narvo has lodged formal charges against him."
The wind blew a strand of hair in her face and she brushed it back. "Is Oppuk here?"
"He's on his way, apparently, and will be present in person at the hearing." Ed hesitated, then said softly: "Aille insisted that you come, Caitlin. But I warn you, he also thinks it will be dangerous for you."
"I figured that out myself, Ed. Whatever else he is, Aille is also a great schemer. He plans to wave me in front of Oppuk like a red flag before a bull." She appreciated the concern in his voice—even more, that in his stance—but simply shrugged. Then, smiled wryly. "It'll probably work, too. Although I'll admit I'd rather be of use some way other than a punching bag. But—whatever works, as they say."
Kralik pulled up a camp stool for her and gestured for the older man and Tamt to sit in other ones nearby. "You'll have to forgive these arrangements. So many Jao have piled into the command center over the past two days that we scruffy humans found it easier to set up shop here. And it's a lot less unsettling, to be honest, given that most of the newly arrived Jao seem none too fond of us and some of them seem almost trigger-happy."
He was half-lying, she suddenly realized, after spotting Tully in a corner of the tent. Tully gave her a friendly nod of recognition but then immediately resumed his conversation with the man he was standing beside.
An older man, about Kinsey's age as well as Kinsey's approximate skin color, but looking far more physically fit than the professor. Caitlin had never seen a photograph of the man, but she was quite certain this was the legendary Rob Wiley, once a lieutenant colonel in the U.S. Army, and, in the many years since the conquest, the military leader of the Resistance in the Rockies.
Ed, she knew, had wanted privacy, not simply breathing room. She gave him an uncertain look.
Kralik's gray eyes hardened and he seemed to stand taller, straighter, as though granite suddenly pervaded his being. He glanced at Tamt, for an instant, then apparently decided her loyalties were clear enough.
"Don't ask for the details, Caitlin. Colonel Wiley—General Wiley now, officially—is willing to try it our way. But if that doesn't work, I told him we'd do it his way. If the Naukra restores Oppuk, we'll have no choice."
Tamt grunted. "Any fool understands that much. Even the Narvo veterans have informed their kochan elders they will no longer serve on Terra if the situation is not resolved properly. They specified the removal of Oppuk."
She grunted again, adding a whisker-waggle of amusement. "Their kochan elders were outraged at the effrontery—and they were already outraged by the new insignia in the kochan hall."
All the humans stared at her.
"It is true," she insisted. "I was told by one of the Sant, who was present. She said the veterans had made it a point, before the elders arrived, to have the Star of Terra prominently displayed on one of the walls of the association hall."
The Jao bodyguard, though still seated on her stool, bestowed upon them a quite good reproof-of-crechelings. The mildest version, Caitlin recognized, the one reserved for humorous chiding rather than more serious forms of reproof.