A Call to Arms

by Alan Dean Foster

  The room was crowded. Thoughtful-quick-Probing noted the presence of most of the Command staff together with a number of Ashregan, Molitar, and Crigolit officers. Assuming position to one side, it exchanged silent greetings with the others of its own kind while Bent-high-Commanding shifted forward. Immediately all Amplitur thoughts were stilled in deference to the presence of their mentally mute allies.

  Bent-high-Commanding spoke aloud, struggling to convey its thoughts by means of the crude, wispy vocalizations that were utilized by all other sentient races.

  “You all know that we have lost Vasarih. We are in danger of losing Aurun. Vasarih was always in question. Aurun we thought we had won. The Aurunians had forgone the deviancy of the Weave in favor of furthering the Purpose. Recent developments have adversely affected their outlook.” The Crigolit set to muttering among themselves. Evidently this last information was new to them.

  “The Weave has engaged a new ally, an extraordinarily effective fighting species which appears to embody a heretofore unencountered combination of high technology and primitive ferocity. They were first detected in small numbers on Vasarih and it was thought initially they might be native to that world. The presence of two intelligent species on the same world is not without precedent.”

  “Further encounters and new information have revealed that these beings are in fact native to a world of their own. The number participating in Weave actions is still small but increasing. Their modest presence on Vasarih has rapidly made our presence there untenable. There have also been deleterious side effects.”

  “Examples?” mused Thoughtful-quick-Probing, admonishing its bud to pay close attention.

  “The Massood seem to fight better when placed alongside these creatures, who have the ability to make those in their company function more efficiently. It may be that their influence will extend to and include such as the S’van and Hivistahm, though there is as yet no evidence to support such a hypothesis.”

  “The threat they pose is therefore manyfold and complex. Those cadavers which have been dissected have not been especially informative, though I am told preliminary examinations suggest that their neuromuscular systemology is unusually dense for a mammalian life-form.”

  “As would be anticipated, the Weave has been extremely protective of them, doing its utmost to shield them from our observation. However, that has not prevented us from securing several live specimens. It is to these few that we owe what real information we have.” Bent-high-Commanding deferred to Solution-pale-Overseer, who assumed the former’s speaking position.

  “The specimens have revealed exceptional physical abilities, but no daunting devices. Their weaponry is standard Weave issue. They bring with them no new superweapons, nothing we have not dealt with previously.”

  A Crigolit officer spoke up, not in the least deferential. “Well on our way to winning Vasarih we were, until these creatures arrived. Unorthodox methods of fighting they employ. The Massood we can predict and strategy devise to counteract, but not these. Unreasoning and illogic are their allies. One would think them not sane. Sacrifice themselves they will, and unpredictably.”

  Solution-pale-Overseer waited until the Crigolit’s mind had cleared. “We have yet to formulate standards by which to judge these creatures. Each unit appears capable of functioning independently of higher supervision. This makes them extremely difficult to clear from a contested region.”

  “Physically they are remarkably powerful, yet agile. They have mastered Weave weaponry with impressive speed.”

  Another Crigolit stepped forward. “Aurun lost now as well. All but secure was that world. Guidance in this matter we must have, Learned Ones. Tactical decisions we must make.”

  “They will be forthcoming,” murmured several of the Amplitur simultaneously.

  “Time now for enlightenment,” said Bent-high-Commanding. A door opened at the back of the room and many eyes of differing focus turned. Two enormous Molitar entered, escorting between them something only slightly shorter but far less massive. The Massood officer halted when his guards did, blinking at the lights and the encircling aliens. She was surprised to see the Amplitur.

  One of them was about to bud. She wished fervently for the simplest of weapons even though she could not immediately have made use of it. Her arms were bound to her sides by restraining foam.

  They had provided her with a translator. “Why have you brought me here? What do you want?” She glared at the half-dozen Amplitur who were silently inspecting her. “I did not think you exposed your precious skins to the possibility of physical harm.”

  “You understand our abhorrence of violence,” said Solution-pale-Overseer.

  “You mean your desire to have others do your fighting for you.”

  “We serve as it is most efficacious for us to serve.” Solution-pale-Overseer approached the captive. “Should I desire to do so I would not require the assistance of another life-form to aid in dismembering you.” The Massood tried to shrink away from the dark, brilliant eyes.

  “You have not been brought here to die,” Bent-high-Commanding assured her in its strange sucking whisper of a voice, “but rather to provide information.” The Massood steadied herself.

  “We have had some difficulty on Vasarih.”

  “You have lost Vasarih,” countered the prisoner, nose twitching violently as her fur bristled. Gray eyes met those of slitted gold.

  “A not unreasonable assessment of the situation,” the Amplitur admitted. “We have lost much not because of you but because of these peculiar Human creatures. You have found others to do your fighting for you, therefore pause before judging us.”

  The officer struggled against her restraints. “Massood fight alongside Humans. We do our own fighting.”

  Bent-high-Commanding gestured fluidly with a tentacle. “This cannot be permitted to continue. These Humans are disruptive. We can be patient and contain them, as we have contained others. But we do not like to step backward when we can advance. We would like for you to tell us what you know of them.”

  “I am sure you would,” she responded, but with less bravado than previously. Her eyes kept darting from the one addressing her to the other silent, unblinking Amplitur standing silently behind it.

  Bent-high-Commanding retreated, relinquishing its place to Thoughtful-quick-Probing. At its approach the Massood tried to retreat only to find her path blocked by the Molitar. Thoughtful-quick-Probing sighed inwardly and concentrated, eyes retracting on their stalks. A moment passed.

  The Massood seemed to slump slightly. Her eyes gazed straight ahead, motionless in their sockets. Nose, ears, lips had ceased their normal twitching.

  A mind was a void to be filled, Thoughtful-quick-Probing mused. Information inserted, suggestions made. No locks, no barriers. The officer responded to the gentle but irresistible probing of the six as directed by the one.

  In a sense this was simpler than verbal questioning. No time was wasted dealing with objections or the identifying of subterfuges. No foolish curses or loud objections interrupted the steady flow of information. They inserted the queries and recorded the verbal responses. The Massood’s mind responded as straightforwardly and efficiently as any instrument.

  When it was done, Thoughtful-quick-Probing eased out. The Massood shivered and started to collapse, to be caught by the Molitar on her right. Thoughtful-quick-Probing discussed the completed procedure with its bud as it backed away.

  “Take her back, treat her gently,” said Bent-high-Commanding. “She has a good mind which someday may serve the Purpose.”

  “There are fewer than we thought,” ventured another of the six.

  “Which renders their accomplishments that much more impressive,” said Thoughtful-quick-Probing.

  “This danger cannot be underestimated.” Bent-high-Commanding projected impatience combined with anxiety. “The Weave will take all steps to keep secret the homeworld of such a valuable new ally. This Massood does not know but suspects that they c
ome from a remote region.”

  The eldest of the six spoke up. “Acquiring the necessary information will be costly.”

  “That is so, but the infection is virulent,” said Bent-high-Commanding. “It must at all costs be contained before it can spread. I await advisement.”

  The Crigolit, the Ashregan, and the Molitar stood quietly as the Amplitur communicated among themselves. Tentacles wove abstract patterns in the air, eyestalks coiled protectively inward. In its silence the sight was impressive, even awe-inspiring. Not for what was visible, but for what was not. Not for that which was revealed but for that which was implied.

  Eyes uncurled to regard the room. Bent-high-Commanding spoke.

  “This species is new to Weave technology. On a world called Motar the enemy maintains a major training facility. We have minimal surveillance there. This will be increased. Energy must be expended to learn all that can be learned about these beings: whence they arise and how they come to fight alongside the deviant Massood.”

  “All setbacks are temporary. No defeats are final.” Thoughtful-quick-Probing offered its opinion. “We will deal with this as we have throughout all history: by redoubling our efforts to eliminate the problem.”

  The Amplitur mutually concurred, signaling politely to their allies in the room that the conference had come to an end. The Crigolit and Molitar and Ashregan acknowledged, began to file out discussing what they had seen. Enthusiasm and energy had replaced their initial uncertainties. Some of it was genuine, some thoughtfully implanted by the tentacled quadrupeds they were leaving behind.

  The Amplitur could not bear to see their allies unhappy.

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Will was putting the finishing touches on the cantata. It was better than Arcadia, better than anything he’d ever done. Someday soon when the Weave had taken its misplaced leave of Earth he hoped to hear it performed.

  Arcadia had brought him recognition. The cantata would secure his reputation. No more teaching, no more tutoring of tone-deaf young women from wealthy Southern families. The commissions would arrive en masse, hopeful and pleading. An opera next, or another symphonic poem.

  Life was good.

  Footsteps on the aft deck drew him out into the bright Caribbean sun where Caldaq stood, awaiting permission to enter. T’var followed, hidden by the Massood’s bulk. After admitting them Will went to the secure locker, popped the combination, and withdrew the translator they had given him.

  “Kind of unusual for you to be out in broad daylight.” He directed his words to the base commander.

  “I will not waste time,” Caldaq replied somberly as he sat down on the floor, crossing his legs and leaning back against the navigation table. “We think that the Amplitur may have found Earth.”

  “Oh.” All thoughts of opera and music fled as Will sat down heavily on the couch opposite the Massood. T’var had struggled up into a chair. “How?”

  “We are not sure, but that does not matter. For some time they have been unusually active in the region around Motar. You will recall that that is the world where Human recruits receive their initial training. Now the Amplitur are assembling a considerable force near P’hoh. That is an uncontested outpost world, not worth a Weave attack, not worth defending heavily. The rationale for a gathering of such force there has been the subject of much recent speculation and study.”

  “P’hoh is the nearest Amplitur-visited world to your system.”

  “I see,” said Will slowly. “What happens now?”

  “The Military Council has been discussing the matter with the General Council. It has been decided to inform your multiple governments. The responsibility for deciding how to proceed must in this instance rest with them. It is a decision the Weave cannot take unto itself.”

  Will blinked. “I thought the idea was to keep everything a secret until I had a chance to convince you that my people are better off not knowing about your war, much less participating in it.”

  T’var gave a slight sideways twist of his head and beard. “That’s no longer possible, Will Dulac. If the Amplitur come here, the Weave can help defend your world, but not if it is kept ignorant of what is happening. Being familiar with principles of contemporary warfare you know that we probably cannot prevent the Amplitur from landing at least some troops. As elsewhere, any decisive battles here will be fought on the ground.” Will had no reply.

  “Several thousand of your people have had Weave instruction, are familiar with Weave weaponry and tactics. We are prepared to bring them back from Vasarih, even Aurun, to help train more of your kind. We are confident that your professional military will make the necessary adjustments far more quickly than the novices we have already successfully trained.”

  “The degree of readiness your world can achieve depends on how rapidly it can prepare and how long the Amplitur delay.”

  “But they may not even be coming here,” Will argued. “They may not know about Earth.”

  “They’ve encountered your kind on Vasarih and Aurun,” said T’var. “The Amplitur wouldn’t commence this kind of buildup near a useless world like P’hoh without”—and the humor was successfully filtered through the translator—“a purpose.”

  Caldaq was watching Will closely. “There is an attendant possibility. Everyone up to and including the Council places great value on your personal opinion. If you choose to make a decision on this matter and let it be known…”

  “No,” Will stammered as the import of the Massood’s statement struck home. “I can’t make this kind of decision.”

  “Then we have no choice but to inform those of your people who do, which is to say, your governments. I know your feelings on this, Will Dulac. You can still make your presence felt. Your governments may feel as you do and choose not to prepare, to elect instead to try and reason with the Amplitur. Perhaps you will be successful where every other species has failed.”

  Will’s mind reeled with the possibilities. At last the thief was abroad in the interstellar night. Should mankind talk, or take up arms? His own instinct was still to talk, though if Caldaq was to be believed, the precedents were less than sanguine.

  T’var felt similarly. “The Amplitur know of your kind from Aurun and Vasarih. They see you as a serious threat. I don’t think they are coming to talk.”

  Will bent forward, supporting his head in his hands. Memory of the soothing, uplifting music he’d been working with earlier had been shunted aside by dread and uncertainty.

  “All right. I guess something has to be done. God knows I didn’t want this.”

  “You were warned.” Unblinking cat eyes regarded him coolly. “Years ago I told you that contact between your kind and the Amplitur was inevitable. We have delayed formal contact here largely because of you and your convictions. I must tell you now that you have yet to convince me that your kind is inherently peaceful. Not that it would matter to the Amplitur, though I cannot seem to make you see that.”

  “At the same time I am not as convinced as are some others of your people’s usefulness as fighters. You have spoken of their unpredictability, and in this you have yet to be proven wrong. I remember clearly the incident involving the stolen weapons. Such a thing would never happen with Massood, or any other Weave peoples.”

  “It may be that your opinion will eventually win out. It is not for me to say. I am only an administrator. But any people facing the likelihood of Amplitur attack deserve to be informed of the possibility so that they may take such steps as they see fit.”

  “When?” a disconsolate Will mumbled.

  “As soon as possible. It was hoped that you could advise us on procedure. We have no precedent for dealing with such an aberrant sociopolitical structure.”

  A pained expression crossed Will’s face. “You’re an administrator. I’m just a musician. I don’t know how to deal with politicians, give me some time to think.”

  Caldaq rose fluidly from the floor, automatically bending so as not to bump
the ceiling. “Remember that every day, every minute may be bringing Amplitur assault forces nearer your system.”

  “And it may not. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Caldaq and T’var left the Human to his thoughts.

  Back at the base S’van regarded much taller Massood. “It would be useful to convince the Human. You know what will happen. The Amplitur will arrive with sufficient force to impress the natives, but they won’t attack. First they’ll offer the philosophy of the Purpose. If Will Dulac is right about his kind, there’ll be some who will listen.”

  “This cannot be permitted. If the Amplitur are allowed access to Human leaders, those individuals will soon find themselves uncritically espousing the Purpose. It’s happened too often before, on other worlds. Our studies here have shown that Humans rely extensively on their chosen leaders to make decisions for them, often to the exclusion of individual thought.”

  “I know, Second.” The Massood commander was uncharacteristically contemplative. “It is only that what is proposed will be a difficult thing to sleep with.”

  “I don’t see it that way. We’re doing what is necessary to save lives: S’van, Massood, Hivistahm, and in the long term, Human.”

  “I see that. It is only that I would prefer to do so honestly.”

  “We’re being truthful in all things,” T’var insisted. “This world would have been drawn into the conflict eventually.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “And consider this, tall Captain: Suppose the Amplitur had discovered this world before us? Imagine Humans as allies of the Amplitur, fighting alongside the Molitar.”

  “No one fights alongside the Amplitur. They only fight for them. But you are right, my hirsute advisor. The notion is unpleasant.” They parted, each to his station, each to his thoughts.

  “I’m afraid I don’t have any brilliant suggestions on how to proceed with this. What have you come up with?” Will sat in the chamber with Caldaq and Soliwik, T’var and Z’mam. He’d slept very little the previous night. “Do you want to make a show of force, or set shuttles down in the major capitals, or what?”