The False Mirror

by Alan Dean Foster

  "If it appears that despite all our careful planning the gambit is doomed to failure, you will be brought out immediately, irrespective of risk to evacuating personnel."

  "Even if it means losing a ship," added the senior officer. "The High Command holds your troops in that much regard."

  "We don't think you will fail." Certainly, Ranji thought, both speakers sounded confident. "If we did, this venture would not have reached the planning stage, much less advanced this far beyond it."

  Like his companions, the proposal left Ranji somewhat dazed. It was so unexpected because it was utterly unlike the strategy of patient attrition the Amplitur had favored for a thousand years. They were adapting to new circumstances with a speed that left him breathless. How the Weave would react to such tactics remained to be seen.

  He and his kind, he knew, were to constitute the centerpiece of such innovations.

  The senior officer broke the ensuing silence. "Not incidentally, you are all being promoted. Every one of you, every member of your respective groups. Such honor is not unprecedented, but it is unusual. The High Command takes pride in you and your accomplishments." He sought out a particular individual.

  "You, Ranji-aar, are hereby raised to Field Unifer."

  Cossinza gasped softly. Soratii sat motionless. If he was upset at being jumped in rank he did not show it. Ranji didn't think it would bother him. Since the days of the trials they had become good friends, respectful of each other's abilities and opinions.

  To be given command was the last thing he wanted, yet to refuse the honor was unthinkable. Doing so would expose him to relentless scrutiny. From now on it would be impossible for him to hang back and hide on the battlefield. Not only would he be unable to avoid the killing, he would be forced to direct it.

  At least, he told himself, as commanding officer he would better be able to insure Saguio's safety. Aware that everyone was expecting some sort of response from him he said, "When are we to depart?"

  "Preparations require another five days," the officer told him. "That should give everyone ample time to prepare, and to spend more time with mates and offspring. Rest, delight, and immerse yourselves in the Purpose."

  The meeting was at an end.

  "You will take care of yourself."

  His father stood alongside him in the back of the family compound as together they contemplated the sunset. Ranji wanted to scream questions and accusations. Instead he stood silently, trying to sort the emotions that gnawed at his insides.

  "And you will look after your brother."

  Ranji heard himself replying. "Yes, Father."

  Grainfields stretched from the rear of the residential square to a bilious orange horizon. This time of year they lay fallow, their unrelenting flatness interrupted only by the stark silhouette of an isolated, twisted kekuna tree.

  As the dorsal arc of Cossuut's sun sank out of sight, the' two turned to walk back to the house. "You know, Ranji, you've been acting rather strange since you've been home."

  "Have I?" Clods of recently turned earth gave him something to focus on. Some he kicked to bits, others he spared. As he would soon be expected to do with friends in battle.

  "Your mother and I don't understand. Are you sure you're all right?"

  His father's concern proved nothing one way or the other, Ranji knew. Once again he was made aware of the damning ignorance that jailed his spirit. Mind-dupe or calculating agent? A glance at the old man proved unenlight-ening as ever.

  "I'm sorry if I strike you as unnaturally introspective, Father. You should know that combat tends to dull the senses."

  "No; there's something else."

  Halting, Ranji forced a narrow Ashregan smile. "I'll take care of myself, and Saguio as well. Rest assured on that." There at least was a promise he could make with assurance.

  It wouldn't do to leave his father questioning. The old man might seek answers from local officials or, worse, from the Amplitur stationed on Cossuut. Embarrassing queries might find their way back to him, even on distant Ulaluable. He knew that only continued caution would preserve his secret.

  Leave-taking gave him no difficulty until it came time to say good-bye to his sister. That guileless innocent cried as she hugged him close. He could feel the growing strength in her, strength the Amplitur intended to put to dreadful misuse, and somewhat to his surprise he found that he was crying, too. The outpouring of emotion must have eased his father's concerns, because the old man made his farewells quickly, propounding no more unanswerable questions.

  Sensing that it was for the last time, Ranji looked back as the transport vehicle carried him and Saguio away from the house, away from the grainfields in which he'd played as a youth, away from the residential complex and the only home he'd ever known.

  Because in that final moment he had to make a decision in order to keep his sanity, he'd decided that his parents were innocent, as captive of Amplitur machination as he and his brother. He reached that conclusion on the basis of more than twenty years of love and affection, understanding and nurturance. His mother and father had to be ignorant of the biological truth because every Ashregan lived in fear of the terrible, dreaded Human beings. Surely no amount of Amplitur suggestion could have so thoroughly overcome that deep-seated terror for such an extended period of time. Yes, surely they were dupes, tools of the Amplitur, as innocent in their own way as his baby sister. They had to be because he wanted it to be so.

  How would they look at him if the truth were to be revealed?

  The transport accelerated, plunging into the onrushing night.

  * * * * *

  The speech of the three Wais administrators was so rapid, convoluted, and inflected that it was almost impossible for the translators the non-Wais wore to render it comprehensible. Despite their agitated discursion, the trio of ornithorps retained their composure. To have exhibited exasperation in the presence of other species would have been, well, unrefined.

  "What reason can you have to call us here, away from our daily work?" The Wais who spoke sported a fringed neckpiece of breathtaking elegance which served not only as a testament to her importance but was ravishingly beautiful in its own right. The feathers which protruded from her flowing attire were of exquisite color and expertly groomed, as were those of her two male companions.

  The instant his translator finished, the S'van replied. "Evidence has recently come to light which suggests that the enemy is planning something extraordinary."

  "Of what concern, pray tell, might Amplitur military intrigues be to us?" Concerned that in her haste to reach the meeting on time it might have slipped a finger-length too low, the administrator gently fluffed her neckpiece.

  The S'van withheld the comments which automatically came to mind when one found oneself dealing with the I Wais. "We have word that they are planning to mount an attack on one of the primary Weave worlds."

  Though they found the news as upsetting as would any civilized member of the Weave, none of the Wais reacted visibly. To have done so in front of aliens would have been considered unbearably gauche.

  "That is difficult to believe," said one of the male Wais finally.

  "Though controversy continues, the evidence seems irrefutable."

  "Which unfortunate world is to be the target of this outrage?"

  "That we haven't been able to determine . . . yet." The S'van wished for a platform. He didn't like looking up at the Wais. Having to tilt his head back raised his beard off his chest and exposed the sensitive skin beneath. "Thanks to our informants we have been able to reduce the list of candidates to three. Tuo'olengg, Kinar, and . . . Ulalu-able."

  Very little could induce a Wais's neck feathers to spike and pupils to widen, but the S'van's announcement managed that accomplishment.

  "How can this be?" So upset was the remaining male ornithorp that he nearly committed the unpardonable sin of misinflecting the interrogative. "Surely the Amplitur know from experience that an attack on any developed world would be soon surr
ounded and annihilated."

  "You'd think so." The S'van readily agreed. "That's why we've gone to such lengths to confirm the information we've received. If all these enemy preparations are simply in support of a feint, it's far and away the most elaborate one they've ever propagated. We can't take that chance. As the current Administrating Triumvirate of Ulaluable do you want us to take that chance?"

  The polyphonic Wais reply was as unanimous as it was harmonious.

  "That's what we thought your reaction would be." The S'van looked satisfied. "The Grand Council has determined to implement exceptional security measures on all three worlds. If the Amplitur's purpose in this was to force us to reallocate scarce resources, then they've already accomplished what they set out to do. You'll be given everything this quadrant's Command can spare."

  "What would possess the Amplitur to embark on an adventure with no chance of success?" the female member of the triumvirate sang bemusedly.

  "Obviously they think better of their chances." The husky voice of the Massood officer who'd accompanied the S'van was a sharp contrast to the mellifluous tones of the Wais. "Perhaps you have heard about the new fighters they have been using? The ones who hurt us so badly on Eirrosad?"

  "We have heard. While the Wais are noncombatants, we are not indifferent to the progress of the great conflict."

  A half-hidden figure behind the Massood stepped forward. "If the Amplitur choose Ulaluable as their target, you'll have to be a damn sight less indifferent."

  Though not nearly as tall as the Massood, the Human officer towered over the S'van and Wais. Stocky and powerfully built, he sported a heavy mustache and long sideburns which curled toward his chin. Even as they went to great lengths to conceal their distaste for the primitive cosmetic affectation, the Wais instinctively drew back from] the massive primate.

  "This would be a lot easier if we knew which of the] three worlds they were going to hit, but we don't, so the | same defensive resources have to be allocated to each. Ulaluable gets no more than Kinar or Tuo'olengg. I promise that we'll do our best for you, but I'm afraid you're going to have to issue a general alert. Besides the need to brief you, the governors of Ulaluable, that was our purpose in calling this meeting. I hope there won't be any panic."

  The slightly taller male replied condescendingly. "The Wais do not 'panic,' sir."

  "No," muttered the Massood under his breath. "They just freeze at the smell of a weapon."

  The female glared. "We will do our part. All necessary measures will be taken . . . insofar as a wholly civilized people can respond to such a threat, of course. As a chosen representative of the populace I assure you that you will have our full cooperation. We may not be able to 'kill,' but we can do much else in our own defense."

  The S'van hastened to try and lower his allies' emotional temperature. "We know the Wais do not fight. Remember, I'm S'van. We do not fight, either." The, administrator seemed mollified.

  "The Council will appreciate any assistance you can render to the defending forces. Additional personnel are already on their way. Massood and . . . Humans."

  Feathered heads dipped together, chittering softly. Again it was left to the senior female to speak. "You must be aware that Human combat troops have never been stationed on Ulaluable, or for that matter any of the Wais worlds. It is not part of the Covenant of Agreement."

  Out of the corner of an eye the S'van saw the muscular Human stiffen slightly. However, he said nothing, exhibiting a self-control not normally associated with his kind. He was a ranking officer, the S'van reminded himself, and intelligent enough to know that in such circumstances it was better to let a S'van do the talking.

  "All Human personnel will be assigned to and billeted at Important industrial and communications facilities. Cities and unnecessary contact with the general population will be avoided."

  "Suits us fine," the Human could not resist muttering.

  The male Wais who spoke affected not to hear the comment. "We are of course grateful for the assistance of all our friends and allies. It seems we are to have no choice in the matter anyway."

  "On the contrary," said the S'van. "If you so desire, these additional defensive forces allocated to Ulaluable can instead be divided among the other threatened worlds."

  "That will not be necessary," the female hastily assured him. "You must understand that while you concern yourselves with matters military, it is left to us to deal with the delicate social fabric of our society."

  "I do understand." The S'van smiled behind his beard. Of all the Weave races, only the S'van utilized the smile more than Humans. "It is my hope that Ulaluable is not the target of the Amplitur."

  The three ornithorps whistled agreement in unison, each musical exhalation pitched slightly differently from that of its neighbor. "We are obliged for your concern," the female said, "and realize that extraordinary circumstances call for extraordinary measures. We gratefully accept the temporary stationing of additional Massood and Human soldiers in our soil."

  "Temporary," chorused her male associates.

  The Human officer continued to observe and listen in silence. He'd served as liaison to the "civilized" Weave races too long to allow their reactions to the presence of his kind to upset him. Save for the Massood and occasionally the S'van, the thanks Humans received for putting their lives on the line in defense of other species was indifferent at best. He sighed resignedly. The Wais could not help the way they were. At such times the Human lot' could be a difficult one.

  They would provide ample material aid, but that was all. Once, he had seen a Wais, fortified with medication, through a tremendous effort of will actually lift and fire a small handgun before collapsing in a nauseated faint. It was an experience not likely oft to be repeated, even if Ulaluable was attacked. The defense of their world was up to him and his kind . . . and the Massood, of course. No getting around it. That was .the way the pulsar spun, he told himself.

  Silently he wished for the meeting to end. Someone had to serve as a liaison to the Wais, and he had been compelled to accept the role. That didn't mean he had to like it. Like the majority of his kind he had been trained as a soldier. Direct action suited him, diplomacy made him itch. He longed for reassignment to a combat unit. Even the sympathetic S'van was starting to get on his nerves.

  Idly he fingered his service belt. Like his boots, the material of which it was fashioned was incredibly light, tough, attractive, and of Wais design and manufacture. That was what the Weave was about, he mused. Each species contributed according to its talents and abilities. Wais designed, Lepar carried, Hivistahm engineered, S'van held together, O'o'yan maintained, and so forth. Turlog thought, Humans and Massood slew.

  He comforted himself in the knowledge that the specialty nature seemed to have assigned his kind was at least easy to understand.

  18

  The grim expression Ranji wore whenever he was compelled to leave his cabin discouraged even close friends from trying to talk to him, and helped to preserve his solitude during the long Underspace journey out from Cossuut. Everyone knew that as Field Unifer great responsibilities devolved upon him. It was therefore only natural to assume that his attitude was a reflection of the serious inner contemplation that preceded battle. He was left alone.

  His isolation suited Ranji just fine. Had his companions known the real reason for his solemnity they would have been shocked and dismayed. Not only was he not deeply engrossed in preparing battlefield strategy; he was wholly absorbed in trying to find a means of avoiding combat altogether.

  There were too many times when he wondered why he was bothering to try. He was one man, one individual caught up in a millennia-old galactic conflagration that involved billions of intelligent beings. Events of prodigious import were in motion, and like litter on a wave he found himself helplessly swept up and washed along, to be pounded against whatever shore fate had in store for him. Not for the first time he found himself thinking that perhaps the best thing he could do was simply try
to preserve his own life and live it out as comfortably and unobtrusively as possible.

  Only, he was repeatedly hammered by uneasy dreams, and visions of his sister slicing Human throats at the behest of shadowy, tentacular forms. Thoughts were not as easily avoided as friends.

  What could he do? They were about to attack a developed Weave world largely populated by the ultracivilized, innocuous race known as the Wais. As the mere appearance of enemy troops was likely to paralyze the population, they would have to be defended by Massood and Humans. How could he, as Field Unifer, avoid participating in battle and giving orders if not directly having a hand in the deaths of many of his own kind? Desperately seeking a means of avoidance, he found only bleak and inner despair.

  Time was running out. The invasion force was less than five days from the target. Preparations for touchdown had already begun. He might yet be spared contemplated agonies, he knew, for their landing shuttle might well be blown out of Ulaluable's sky by orbiting or land-based defenses, thus sparing him the need to make life-threatening decisions. His attitude toward such a quick and exonerating death had grown dangerously ambivalent.

  Perhaps worst of all, the truth gnawed at him like an insect struggling to escape its cocoon. He had returned to his people to give them knowledge, only to find himself unable to speak. The futility of his circumstances tormented him far worse than any prospect of dying.

  His colleagues saw the inner struggle mirrored in his expression and misinterpreted its origin to his benefit.

  He considered feigning mental collapse, seeking surcease in an inveigled disgrace. But that would not preserve his brother, nor prevent his sister from being trained to follow after. There was simply no way to extend his solitude to those he loved. He would have to find another way.

  As attack preparations around him intensified, he redirected himself to the problem with ferocious application.

  It wasn't until the day before the fleet was to phase out of Underspace that he remembered the kindly Lepar, Itepu. Remembered his compassion and understanding. His had been a simpler view of the cosmos, basic and uncomplicated. In such simplifications were certain virtues. He pondered those memories, trying to recall everything he and the Lepar had discussed during his half-forgotten journey from Eirrosad to Omaphil.