It was the first time she’d ever encountered a Turlog in person, though she was intimately familiar with the bulky, slow-moving shape from holomages and recordings. It settled onto its multiple squat legs and gazed coolly at them out of eyes extended on thick stalks.
A hand or foot reached out to caress a nearby mound, which turned out to contain several mage screens. Straat-ien knew that it was through these that the Turlog tactician communicated its thoughts and advice to Weave command. The Turlog were not fond of exchanging ideas in person. In fact, they were not fond of company of any kind, including that of their own species, this being a principal reason why the population of the highly regarded, long-lived creatures remained always at dangerously low levels.
“I do not know why you wished so strongly to meet with me.” Eyestalks bobbed and the stressed translator hissed and rumbled. “As this encounter must be as uncomfortable for you as it is for me, I ask that you state your business so that we may quickly put an end to it. While we attempt to converse I lose time of contemplation. There is strategy to be devised and reviewed and I am alone here.”
“I realize that,” Nevan responded, “and we apologize.”
The Turlog did nothing to contradict its kind’s reputation for brusqueness. “Do not waste more time attempting to give body to the refuse of social niceties. State your business.”
“You should have been informed that my Wais companion is a historian of note. Were you made aware of her area of expertise?”
“Something was mentioned about ongoing attempts to record and analyze Human-otherspecies interactions.”
“That’s correct.” While Nevan spoke, a fascinated Lalelelang examined the remarkable creature. It resembled nothing else she’d ever encountered, Weave or foe, being in form and development more alien even than the heliox-breathing Chirinaldo.
“I’ve been helping her with her research,” Straat-ien was saying. “She has propounded an interesting hypothesis.” Startled, Lalelelang put a wingtip on his forearm. None of her colleagues could have followed through with the gesture, but it didn’t matter anyway. He shrugged her off. “She suggests that when the Amplitur and their supporters have finally been defeated, we Humans will turn on our former allies out of a desperate need to continue fighting.”
“Colonel Nevan!”
He smiled reassuringly. “It’s all right, Lalelelang. It’s only a theory. Sometimes you have to be provocative in order to get a reaction.” He eyed the Turlog. “What do you think of that?”
“Interesting, as you state. I do not believe it has much validity. Of course, I have not been exposed to the data on which this theory is based. If your intention in coming here is to seek an opinion you will depart without one. I do not render unsupported analysis.”
“You mean you’re not even slightly interested in a hypothesis of such import even though if true it might adversely affect your own kind?”
“Why would it do that?” The creature’s feet made scraping noises on the floor. “We have had only the most tenuous contact with your uncivilized people.”
“Uncivilized but useful,” Straat-ien responded.
“Do not feel singled out. Because of our solitary natures we choose to have as little contact as possible with all other beings. We regard this, as you would say, as a necessary evil. We regard life itself as a necessary evil.”
Straat-ien was nodding. “Yet from the very start of the war the Turlog have been involved in structuring many of the classic battles against the Amplitur, long before Earth was drawn into the fray.”
“You have absorbed some history yourself. This is irrelevant and untimeworthy. If you have nothing more to say, leave.”
Straat-ien shifted his weight. “Not sufficiently intrigued? Then try this. I recently learned that there were three Turlog involved in the fight for a world called Houcilat.”
There was no immediate response. The transparent external wall was completely noise-proofed and the only sounds in the chamber were those of three entirely different organisms processing oxygen.
“What of that?” declared the sexapodian finally.
“It seems that they survived the attack and even managed to escape the Crigolit onslaught which devastated that unlucky colony.”
“So did numerous Humans, Hivistahm, and Massood.”
“You Turlog have broad interests but as you say, it’s rare to find two of you in the same place at any one time.”
The translator choked and struggled. “You find it remarkable that three of my kind were present on that unfortunate world. It has not been so remarked upon by anyone else.”
“I’ve recently had the chance to study some interesting correlational data. My personal motivation also happens to be rather less distanced than that of your average historian. You see, I’m fourth-generation Cossuutian Restoree.”
Eyestalks rose and fell. The inflexibly carapaced face was incapable of expression, the bulbous eyes blandly unrevealing.
“That explains your interest in Houcilat. If your intention in coming here is to seek new information based on the presence there of three of my relations at the time of the Crigolit massacre I am afraid I have nothing to add to that sad piece of history that is not already available from the usual sources.”
“Wait. I’m just getting started. There were also Turlog present on Coban, Eirrosad, and other Weave worlds where my genetically modified ancestors were first compelled to fight against the Weave on behalf of their then Amplitur masters.”
“I do not see an end to your striving. Turlog have been present on most contested worlds, helping to devise strategy and tactics on behalf of the Weave. Human commands have benefited as much from our efforts as have any other.”
“I don’t deny that. Just as it can’t be denied that Turlog are rarely taken prisoner on contested worlds, usually because you stay safe in places like this. It’s only happened a few times. Houcilat was one of those times. So was Coban. So was Eirrosad. In each case those captured Turlog were later swapped back for Crigolit or Mazvec or other enemy prisoners of war.”
“We are grateful that our value is recognized and appreciated,” replied the Turlog slowly.
“Oh it is, it is.” Now Lalelelang was eyeing her companion with as much puzzlement as the Turlog. Was he rambling sardonically to see what kind of reaction he could provoke, or did he have something more substantial in mind? Doubtless their host was wondering that as well.
“I’m sure your demonstrated usefulness was why the Weave was so anxious to repatriate those of you who’d been captured on Houcilat, and Eirrosad, and Coban. And the other couple of worlds in question.
“I find it fascinating that like the Amplitur, the Turlog are also ambisexual.”
Legs scratched. “To what purpose do you now digress into mention of reproductive habits?”
“I’m not sure. I’m trying to make some difficult, unpleasant connections and it isn’t easy. I also find it fascinating that your people were taken by the Amplitur from worlds on which my ancestors fought before they were freed from the squids’ genetic machinations, and that all were subsequently repatriated.”
“We have suffered our share of prisoners taken on worlds unknown to your ancestors for hundreds of years before there were Humans on Cossuut, or Houcilat, or anywhere in the Weave. We accept the possibility of capture as must any who are actively involved in contesting the mastery of a disputed world.”
“How noble of you. Let’s take a moment to review. Three Turlog are present on Houcilat when the Crigolit attack. Three Turlog are captured, yet survive to be repatriated even though hundreds of Humans and Massood are slaughtered. Two Turlog are taken on Coban and subsequently returned, and the process is repeated again later on Eirrosad.”
“You repeat yourself now. Finish and depart. I lose contemplation.”
“Contemplate this: It seems that ever since the restoration of the Humans who were modified by the Amplitur to look like Ashregan began, certain Turlog have been tak
ing a good deal of interest in the reintegration of such individuals into normal Human society.”
“Such observations are relational to the overall war effort.”
Straat-ien was shaking his head slowly for no discernible reason. “None of this would have gone remarked upon if I hadn’t been exposed to Lalelelang’s research. Without her programs the correlations between Cossuutian and Turlog activity would’ve remained undetected. I wouldn’t even have known what kinds of questions to ask. The funny thing is, we’ve been working on something else entirely. My stumbling across all these unrelated coincidences was pure accident. We call that serendipity.”
“You are implying something,” the translator moaned.
“The one thing I still don’t understand,” said Straat-ien, “is what the Turlog hoped to gain by orchestrating strategy for the Weave at the same time as they were aiding the Amplitur in their experiments on captured Humans. It strikes me that some of you people have been working at cross-purposes.”
Lalelelang looked up at him in shock. There was no immediate reaction from the Turlog.
“That is a very peculiar observation,” the alien said finally. “In one respect you are correct. What would we have to gain from such a contradiction? Why would anyone take both sides in a conflict?”
“Well, I have to admit that I don’t know of another species that would. I suspect it has something to do with the fact that the Turlog are the only known intelligent species who can think about two distinctly different subjects at once. Not even the Amplitur can manage that.”
“There are no Turlog fighting for the Amplitur. You know that we despise their grand Purpose as heartily as any member of the Weave. Your most basic research should have unequivocally shown you that.” The Turlog did not sound angry or upset. From the time the conversation had begun its tone had not changed in the slightest.
“What my research has shown me,” Nevan went on, “is that of all the member races of the Weave, the Turlog are the most likely to have their own agenda. I was hoping that in light of what I’ve found out you might be able to explain it to me. What do the Turlog actually want out of the Great War? Come on: prove to me the absurdity of my suppositions. Show me where my statistics are wrong. Convince me that my thesis is invalid.”
“Many questions.” The Turlog’s dim silhouette shifted. “You could never convince the Weave high command of anything.”
“Maybe not, but I think the Human high command would be a lot more receptive. Remember: We’re basically uncivilized. Much more suspicious and untrusting than the S’van would be, or the Hivistahm.”
The Turlog settled itself atop what looked like a large block of wood fastened to the floor, but which was in actuality a far more complex structure. “You are right when you observe that none would take such assertions seriously save your own paranoid kind. And only a few Humans could have made the unfortunate connections or would have had reason to: you unpredictable offspring of the Cossuutian Restorees.” It made an untranslatable sound: a deep, benthic gargle. “Always there was the potential for you to make trouble.”
“What is it talking about?” Lalelelang turned sharply to her companion. “What is going on here, Colonel Nevan?”
“Wheels within wheels. Take it easy.”
“I will satisfy your damnable Human curiosity,” the Turlog was saying, “after which it will be necessary, as I am sure you will understand, to kill you.”
Lalelelang was too stunned to shake. “You can’t do that. The Turlog are a civilized species. Among the Weave only Humans and Massood can kill.”
“You have no idea what the crabs can do.” Straat-ien was very still. “It’s well known that our friends the Turlog are not a very gregarious bunch, like the S’van or even the O’o’yan. Are you?” He stared at the large, flattened shape.
“You know well we dislike the company even of others of our own kind. Were it not for the need to occasionally exchange information we would all gladly exist in a state of delectable hermitage.” Eyestalks inclined toward Lalelelang. “You are correct in your assumption that I cannot kill in the manner of a berserker Human. I could not bring myself to utilize a gun, or a sharpened stake, or a large blunt object.”
Lalelelang responded in high-pitched but comprehensible Turl. “I still do not understand what is happening here. If you are certain no one will believe my friend’s thesis, why speak of killing us?”
“A precautionary measure. We are a meticulous species, though it appears not as much as we might have believed.” It shifted one eye to Nevan. “It is difficult to conceal everything; to hide every fact, every statistic. Historical coincidence is hard to bury. I regret that your conclusions must vanish with you.”
Lalelelang had been slowly shifting her position until the heavy, muscular form of her Human companion stood between her and the Turlog. “You said you would satisfy my companion’s curiosity. I have yet to see any evidence of that.”
She was trying to stall, Nevan saw. How piquant.
“To say, as the Human does, that we are not gregarious is to grievously understate our psychology.” The Turlog examined Straat-ien closely. “Your revelation was an accident.”
“Many great discoveries are made accidentally,” Nevan replied.
“Many more are never made. It would have been better for you to have overlooked this one. Did you really think you could come down here, confront me with this, and then depart quietly to tell others?”
“I had to have confirmation. Exposing myself along with what I’ve learned seemed the best way to draw you out.”
“And now you will rely on your skills as a Human warrior to extricate you.” A heavy, clawed limb gestured. “You Humans are the finest fighters the Weave has ever known, but you are not gods. You are not omnipotent. We both know that you will not leave this chamber alive.”
“What if I told you there was a whole squad of Humans stationed on the level just above us, and that if I don’t contact them within a specified time they’ll storm this room?”
“And do what? Kill me? I have lived several hundred of your years and have no fear of death. We regard life as a burden, an experience to be tolerated rather than savored. Perhaps this is because we are compelled to suffer so much of it trapped in physical equipment ill-suited to its enjoyment.
“In any event your ploy is futile. I have the means with which to monitor the area immediately surrounding my chambers. No cluster of ravening Humans waits to dismember me at your command.”
Straat-ien shrugged. “All right; a bluff. But I wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t think I could get away.”
“Bluffs within bluffs,” the Turlog murmured. “Keys within keys. Strange things, keys. When they go missing they are often very close to you.” An eyestalk sought the cowering Lalelelang.
“None of this is very complicated, historian. One of the few things the Turlog like and struggle to preserve is our privacy.”
“No one who can avoid it visits your homeworld,” she responded, “and you have never demonstrated any interest in colonization. Contacts between Turlog and other beings are at best minimal.”
“No, you do not understand. It is your tall companion who has puzzled it out. We like our privacy. Few as we are, we find our one world too crowded. The galaxy is too crowded … and too hostile, and too noisy. A blazing, cacophonous, febrile place in which we have been forced by sapience to share residence. Only in unimaginably vast reaches of emptiness and silence do we find the individual solace we seek. It has always been a great regret of ours that we cannot survive in a vacuum, for if we could we would surely flee to the great void between galaxies.
“Ours swarms with other intelligent beings. Constantly procreating, they spill out in all directions to fill up the pristine empty worlds, denying their solitude to those who might truly appreciate it, polluting the pure ether with their Underspace conversations and vessels. Trillions and trillions of them, all breathing and eating and reproducing.” The Turlog’s v
oice grew erratic. “A vast heaving monstrosity of fleshy consciousness.”
It was an outburst Straat-ien had not expected. “You’re not saying that the Turlog had anything to do with provoking the Great War?”
“No. That would have been an uncivilized gesture. We support the war because, like every other thinking species, we have no wish to be coopted into this metaphysical Purpose of the Amplitur. Conversely, we were not disappointed by their appearance.”
“That is wicked.” Lalelelang’s outrage overcame her fear.
“Our perspective, as your companion has quite accurately pointed out, is different. Consider that of all the intelligent species only the Turlog can think on two subjects simultaneously. The war seemed to us a very useful way of slowing and perhaps even contracting the unbridled expansion of noxious life-forms. An extensive interspecies conflict would reduce population growth and divert resources from the settlement of blissfully empty worlds. It would, in brief, enhance privacy.
“This it has done, and we are correspondingly pleased. We welcome the demise of thousands on both sides. It would be much better if weapons of mass destruction were being employed, and we try where possible to encourage their use, but the Amplitur wish to convert the living, and the Weave to secure a civilized peace. This is regrettable. Only on one occasion did we succeed in overcoming the reluctance of attackers to exterminate on a satisfactory scale.”
“Houcilat!” said Straat-ien. “You were responsible for Houcilat.”
“No. Addled Crigolit were responsible for Houcilat. Our recommendations reached only so far. In the end those who exceeded their combat mandate were disciplined by the Amplitur. A pity they are so civilized.”
Nevan studied the Turlog. “So you advise the Weave on strategy and tactics and then pass the information on to the Amplitur so they can take appropriate countermeasures? My research led me to realize that’s what happened at Houcilat, but I didn’t have access to sufficient statistics to indicate how widespread the practice was.”
“It is what we do whenever possible. Regrettably we cannot be involved in every battle, every skirmish. We must also work unobtrusively so that it will not be noticed that we are playing both sides against one another. We never would have guessed that a Human would be the first to take note of it.
The Damned Trilogy Page 84