Conquerors' Heritage

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Conquerors' Heritage Page 20

by Timothy Zahn


  "Well?"

  Prr't-zevisti was shooting back along his anchorline almost before the quiet Human word had had a chance to register. That voice had spoken near hisfsss cutting; and if Doctor-Cavan-a was about to close the door, it would be his death unless he immediately got back inside. He crossed the hills-darted back beneath the mountain overhang-noted almost without conscious thought as he passed that the door was still wide-open-and came to a halt back in the relative safety of the metal room.

  Directly in front of Doctor-Cavan-a and another Human. Both of whom were looking straight at him.

  Prr't-zevisti was deep in the grayworld in an instant. But too late. "There!" Doctor-Cavan-a's voice said, faint and distant. "Did you see it?"

  "Yes," the other Human voice said. "Very (something) indeed."

  Prr't-zevisti moved over to his preferred corner of the metal room, cursing himself for his carelessness. He was in for it now, all right. Whether Doctor-Cavan-a had ever known for sure that he was there, she definitely knew now. And unlike the last time he'd been seen by the Humans, this time they had him well and properly trapped. He eased back to the edge of the lightworld....

  To find both Humans again gazing right at him. "You-Zhirrzh-at the other end," the other Human said, pointing a hand at him. "Can you hear me?"

  Prr't-zevisti dropped back into the grayworld, cursing his carelessness and stupidity. "It's gone again," Doctor-Cavan-a's voice came via hisfsss cutting.

  "Maybe," the other Human said. "Maybe not. Zhirrzh, this is (something) (something) (something), commander of the Human (something) forces. I wish to speak to your commander."

  My commander's climbing a cliff into your ambush,Prr't-zevisti thought bitterly, hugging the illusory safety of the grayworld and hating his vulnerability. And his helplessness.

  "I don't understand, (something)," Doctor-Cavan-a's voice murmured. "If this is the end of a (something), why can't they hear?"

  "I'm sure they (something) can," the Human commander said. "They just aren't answer (something). Keep an eye out-I'm go (something) to check with the (something)."

  There was the sound of a footstep on metal. Prr't-zevisti found a different corner and eased back to the edge of the lightworld. The Human commander was walking toward the door, probably intending to close it.

  And suddenly Prr't-zevisti snapped out of his frozen paralysis. There were Human forces closing in on Zhirrzh warriors out there, and he had to make one final effort to warn them. Darting past the Humans and out of the room, he shot back to the cliff.

  The Zhirrzh were still there, but they were no longer climbing. They were hanging from the cliff face by their ropes, looking at the aircraft now hovering in full view in front of them.

  Prr't-zevisti cursed again, a fresh sense of helplessness flooding through him. Surely there was something he could have done. Something he still could do. He looked around desperately, trying to come up with an idea. Trees, soil, the cliff face itself-

  But nothing. Nothing that an Elder could touch. Nothing that an Elder could do.

  And then there was an irresistible nudge at his side. The door to the metal room, being swung closed against his anchorline.

  He was back in an instant, trembling with the reaction of too many shocks and emotions piled too quickly on top of each other. Doctor-Cavan-a was still there, her eyes searching for him, as he dropped into the grayworld.

  A muffled clank penetrated into the darkness from hisfsss cutting: the door, slamming shut. Prr't-zevisti stayed where he was, aching with the image and memory of those three young Zhirrzh out there facing sudden Eldership. For a hunbeat nothing happened. Then, with another clank, he heard the door open and shut again. "They're start(something) down," the voice of the Human commander said. "Probably go (something) to make it before the (something) team gets to them."

  "What are you go(something) to do?" Doctor-Cavan-a asked.

  "Unless they keep come(something), I'm go(something) to let them go," the Human commander said. His voice, Prr't-zevisti noted, was growing louder, as if he were moving closer to thefsss cutting. "I'd like to find out what they want (something) here. (Something), we (something) them to try it again."

  "You don't think it was just (something)?" Doctor-Cavan-a said.

  There was a gentle click: the lid of the box holding hisfsss cutting being opened. "No," the Human commander said, so close now that Prr't-zevisti could feel the puffs of warm air from his breath. "No, I think it had some(something) to do with this thing. Try (something) to position themselves where they could (something) with it, perhaps."

  "The (something) idea?"

  "Why not? All we really know about their tech (something) is that it's (something) different from ours."

  "But here in the (something) (something)? I thought it block (something) all (something)."

  "(Something), yes. Maybe that's why the others out there were climb(something). Try (something) to get into range." The commander exhaled loudly, his breath tickling uncomfortably across thefsss cutting. "This is the key, Doctor-Cavan-a. Right here. I know it is. You any closer to figure (something) out what it is?"

  "It's (something) (something)," Doctor-Cavan-a said. "That much I know for sure. It's also (something) with (something) and (something). But the really interest (something) part, at least from a (something) point of view, is that the hard (something) is hard only on the outside. The rest of it is soft and even somewhat (something) active."

  "What do you mean, (something) active?" the commander asked. "It's dead. How can it be (something) active?"

  "I haven't the (something) idea," Doctor-Cavan-a said. "But here's the other interest(something) part of it. When you take a new sample, the outer (something) slowly hard (something) up again. It must be trigger (something) by (something) to air."

  "But then we're not talk (something) any kind of ordinary (something)," the commander said. "This is a more active (something)."

  "Right," Doctor-Cavan-a said. "Though what sort of (something) could do that, I don't know."

  "And (something) active in the (something)," the commander murmured. "Interest (something). Very interest (something)."

  He stopped talking, and for a few beats there was nothing but the sound and feel of his breath on Prr't-zevisti'sfsss cutting. "Well, keep at it," he said at last, his breath and voice turning away. "At the (something), it's about all we have to go on."

  "I know," Doctor-Cavan-a agreed. "I'll get back to work right away."

  "I (something) you wait a few (something) first," the commander said, his voice accompanied by the sound of the metal door opening. "If the Zhirrzh out there decide to (something), we may have other (something) work for you."

  He left, closing the door behind him. Carefully, choosing a different corner this time, Prr't-zevisti eased back to the edge of the lightworld.

  Doctor-Cavan-a was standing beside the shelves, gazing down at thefsss cutting in its box. "What are you for?" she asked softly. "Why do the Zhirrzh take you out of their (something)?"

  For a pair of beats Prr't-zevisti was almost tempted to answer her. They had him trapped, and at this point they surely knew that. There really wasn't a lot to be gained by skulking around pretending he wasn't there.

  But he stayed quiet. His long-past warrior training, perhaps, and those dire warnings about the dangers of voluntary communication and cooperation with the enemy. Or maybe it was just the irrational hope that they didn't reallyknow he was trapped there.

  Because once they knew they had him trapped, there would be no reason for them not to start a serious interrogation. Accompanied by their Elderdeath weapons.

  Doctor-Cavan-a picked up the box and moved it to the worktable. Prr't-zevisti watched her, wincing with the always unpleasant anticipation of the unknown. He'd never felt a real Elderdeath weapon, but the histories were very clear about the catastrophic effects their use had had on Zhirrzh culture. The first-and last-Elderdeath weapons had been created by the Svrr family of the Flii'rr clan at the
height of the Second Eldership War eight hundred cyclics ago. All sides of the war had called on the Svrr to halt their use of the weapons, which had only a minor dizzying effect on warriors but which could be lethal to Elders and children. But the Svrr had refused. Ultimately, when the war was over, that refusal had cost the family its existence.

  The Zhirrzh had never used the weapons again. But every alien race they came upon had done so: deliberately, viciously, and without a twinge of conscience. Every race, from the Chig to the Isintorxi and now to the Humans.

  A twinge make him jerk. Doctor-Cavan-a, taking yet another sample from hisfsss cutting. But that would end soon enough. Eventually, he knew, she would get tired of these preliminaries.

  And then the real interrogation would begin. Prr't-zevisti could only hope he would find death before he betrayed his people.

  They'd all made it down to the ten-stride height Thrr-mezaz had specified without the Human-Conquerors making any move. And it was time for the Zhirrzh to make theirs.

  "All right," Thrr-mezaz said, glancing down at the tree- and rock-littered terrain below them. "Here we go. Vstii-suuv, you'll go first, pulling Qlaa-nuur and me down along behind you. If the Human-Conquerors think the fall was accidental, it might gain us a few extra beats. Take it whenever you're ready, and try not to hit us too hard on your way down."

  "Right," Vstii-suuv said. "Here goes."

  There was a sudden flurry above him, a brief shower of broken stone; and then Vstii-suuv shot past, one foot caroming off Thrr-mezaz's left shoulder along the way. The rope snapped tight at Thrr-mezaz's harness, yanking him away from the cliff face. He managed to miss Qlaa-nuur as he fell-bounced painfully against the cliff with the same sore shoulder-twisted half over as he clawed at the rock to try to get himself vertical-

  And then one foot hit the ground, and he was fighting a losing battle for balance. He dropped to one knee, falling over on his side and rolling awkwardly back again to his knees. "Report," he snapped, fumbling for the rope and release rings with one hand as he unslung his laser rifle with the other.

  "I'm all right, Commander," Vstii-suuv said, breathing heavily. "Just a little winded."

  "Same here," Qlaa-nuur said. "Those friction grabs work better than I thought."

  "Good," Thrr-mezaz said, getting up into a crouch and looking around. Still no ground warriors in sight, though in a wooded area like this that didn't mean much. Now, if the Zhirrzh could just get in the first shot against the Human-Conqueror aircraft before it swooped around the trees for a clear shot and shredded all three of them. He looked up into the sky-

  To find that the aircraft hadn't moved.

  Thrr-mezaz frowned up at it. It was still right there, bits of it visible through the trees. Still hovering in the same spot. Not making any attempt at all to attack.

  "Commander?" Vstii-suuv hissed urgently. "Shall we take it down?"

  Thrr-mezaz looked around them again. No ground warriors; no further air support that he could see; the one aircraft on the scene inexplicably not moving to attack position. It was as if-

  As if the Human-Conqueror commander was letting them go.

  He took a deep breath. "Hold your fire," he told the two warriors. "Keep your weapons ready, but I don't think we're going to need them. They're letting us go."

  "Letting us go?" Qlaa-nuur echoed, looking around. "I don't believe it."

  "No, they just haven't reacted yet," Vstii-suuv agreed tightly. "This is our one chance, Commander. I strongly recommend we take it."

  Thrr-mezaz looked back up at the aircraft, an eerie feeling pricking at the base of his tongue. The Human-Conqueror commander was letting them go. Just as he himself had allowed that Human-Conqueror ground-warrior team to escape four fullarcs ago north of the village.

  "Hold your fire," he told the others. "That's an order." He took one last look around and started down the steep slope. "Come on, let's get back to the transport."

  They didn't believe him, of course. Neither of them did. Not until they were airborne again with no sign of pursuit.

  Vstii-suuv was the first to put it into words. "I don't believe it," he said, staring out the back of the transport at the Human-Conqueror aircraft, still on guard, fading into the distance behind them. "They let us go. Why in the eighteen worlds would they do a thing like that?"

  "Maybe as a payback for our not slaughtering their ground warriors when we had the chance," Thrr-mezaz suggested.

  "With all due respect, Commander, that's highly dangerous thinking," Qlaa-nuur growled. "These aren't civilized beings we're talking about here. They're vicious barbarian killers. Ascribing Zhirrzh-like characteristics to them will do nothing but tempt us into blocked-street thinking."

  "Perhaps," Thrr-mezaz said. "Perhaps not. They have a highly advanced technology; they must have a certain degree of civilization to go along with it. And if appreciation toward an enemy is beyond them, then perhaps their commander let us go for the same reason I let his warriors go: because he wants to find out what we were doing out there. Maybe that will also induce him to let us get back inside his territory. Assuming, of course, that we're able to get a new cutting from Warrior Command."

  "Or from the Dhaa'rr," Vstii-suuv murmured, his voice thoughtful.

  Thrr-mezaz looked at him, frowning in mild surprise. Vstii-suuv had been decidedly hostile about the whole Prr't-zevisti cutting idea back on the climb. Yet he'd now brought the subject up on his own. And not as a prelude to an argument, either, from the tone.

  And then he understood. "You saw it," he said. "Didn't you?"

  "I think so," Vstii-suuv admitted. "You did, too?"

  "About the same as you," Thrr-mezaz nodded. "I saw something. I'm not sure what."

  "What are you talking about?" Qlaa-nuur asked. "What did you see?"

  "Maybe nothing," Vstii-suuv said hesitantly. "Maybe-well, maybe Prr't-zevisti."

  Qlaa-nuur looked back and forth between the two of them. "Are you sure?"

  "No, we're not sure at all," Thrr-mezaz told him. "Which is why I don't want either of you telling anyone else about this. Most won't believe us; the rest will assume we're spinning the story for political reasons."

  "We are going to dosomething, though, aren't we?" Vstii-suuv asked.

  "Oh, you can bet on that," Thrr-mezaz assured him. "One way or the other, we're going to get back up there and find out what's going on."

  Vstii-suuv straightened a little. "We'll be ready whenever you want us, Commander," he said, his voice brisk and professional. "You can count on us."

  And he could, Thrr-mezaz realized. He really could. The reluctant warriors who'd flown up there with him-the even more reluctant and distrustful climbing companions who'd hurried down the mountain behind him under the hostile eyes of the Human-Conquerors-those two were gone. With even a hint of a possibility that Prr't-zevisti might still be alive, they had suddenly turned instead into staunch allies.

  But then, the Aree'rr clan had always had a long and proud warrior tradition. And Prr't-zevisti had once been a warrior.

  Whether that tradition and their newfound enthusiasm would survive another trip into the heart of enemy territory was something else again. Thrr-mezaz would just have to hope the Dhaa'rr leaders would give them all an opportunity to find out.

  15

  There were two Zhirrzh standing there when Thrr-pifix-a answered her door: young males, dressed in conservative outfits, smiling cordially yet with a serious undertone to their expressions. As near as she could remember, she'd never seen either of them before. "Yes?" she said.

  "Good postmidarc to you," the taller, slightly older of the two said. His voice matched his smile: friendly, yet serious. "We're looking for a lady named Thrr-pifix-a; Kee'rr."

  "I'm she," Thrr-pifix-a said. Door-doors, probably, here to try to sell her something she didn't need at a price she couldn't afford. But that was all right. She'd already finished her garden work for this fullarc, and she always enjoyed the mental challenge of a good argument over
someone's sales spiel. "And you?"

  "Call me Korthe," he invited. "This is Dornt, my associate. May we come in?"

  Thrr-pifix-a looked at them, the first twinges of uneasiness tugging at her. First names only, with no indication of family or even clan. Certainly not door-doors, then. Certainly not casual visitors of any sort. "I'm really rather busy-"

  "It's all right," the younger Zhirrzh, Dornt, assured her. "Really. We're here to help you with your problem."

  "What problem is that?"

  "We'd prefer to discuss it indoors," Korthe said. "May we come in?"

 

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