"They've been so informed." Takara threw him a sideways look. "You sure you want to do this, Cass?"
Holloway gazed out at the horizon. No, he wasn't at all sure. He'd been three-quarters convinced already that this batch of Zhirrzh weren't nearly as savage or bloodthirsty as the group who'd hit theJutland, even before Melinda Cavanagh's ghost had shown up with this radio/Elderdeath-weapon theory of his. Up to now, in fact, the war here had been remarkably clean, almost civilized.
But Holloway's job wasn't to keep the war civilized. It was to protect the people under his authority. And right now that meant finding a way to get them off-planet before the halucine epidemic condemned them to slow starvation.
And if he had to flatten that entire village over there to accomplish that, then that was what he would do. Civilized warfare or not. "We're doing what we have to, Major," he said.
Takara nodded. "Understood, sir."
29
"What kind of attack?" Cavanagh demanded, his chest tightening painfully. "From whom?"
"I do not know more," Thrr't-rokik said, his thin voice as agitated as Cavanagh felt. "Prr't-zevisti says that human aircraft coming toward Zhirrzh encampment. I must go hear what is happening."
"Wait a minute," Cavanagh called. "What about Pheylan and Melinda? You said something had gone wrong-?"
"Don't bother-he's gone," Bronski said grimly. He was up off his cot now, pulling his shirt off and stuffing it into the wall slot where one of the Mrachanis' hidden cameras was located. "Do what I'm doing over the camera on your side. Kolchin, I need two bolas and a slingshot."
"Right," Kolchin said, pulling out the impromptu screwdriver he'd used earlier on the door. Pushing his mattress onto the floor, he set the metal cot frame up on its side and got to work on the hardware holding it together.
"What's going on?" Cavanagh asked, taking his shirt off and wedging it into the slot as instructed.
"We're getting out of here," Bronski told him. He had his own mattress on the floor and was balancing the wire-strung frame on its side against the wall opposite the door.
"What about the Mrachanis?" Cavanagh asked.
"They're the reason we're getting out," Bronski said. Leaving the frame propped against the wall, he squatted down beside the discarded mattress and began tearing carefully through the fabric of the outer enclosure. "You remember Thrr't-rokik quoting the Overclan Prime earlier as saying he was glad they hadn't agreed to an attack on Earth?"
"Yes," Cavanagh said.
"Well, he was wrong," Bronski told him. "Because when Valloittaja was marching us in here, he pretty well confirmed theyhad conned the Zhirrzh into launching a major attack."
"Maybe he was just playing games with you," Cavanagh said, watching the two of them in fascination. Kolchin was making a small collection of nuts and bolts pulled from the cot frame; Bronski had gotten a tear started in the mattress fabric and was carefully making it longer. "Or else planting disinformation."
"I don't think so," Bronski said. "I know the Mrachanis. From the level of gloating I think he was telling the truth."
"So you're saying the Overclan Prime lied to us?"
"No," Bronski said bluntly. "I'm saying that one of his political opponents is pulling a fast one. He's made a private deal with the Mrachanis."
Cavanagh swore gently. Obvious, of course, now that they knew how the Mrachanis worked. "Why didn't you warn Pheylan?"
"I was trying to find a way to say it that wouldn't tip off the Zhirrzh that I knew." The slit was long enough now for Bronski to begin pulling one of the tube-shaped floater pads out of the mattress. "Someone from the wrong political side might have been listening in. This communication system might be handy, but it has security holes you could fly a carrier through."
"I think the time for subtlety has passed," Cavanagh said. "You'd better warn the Overclan Prime. There must be a way for him to stop the attack."
"Not if this enemy of his is smart," Bronski said. He had all the floater pads from his mattress laid out on the floor now, lined up neatly from where he'd propped up the frame to a point about halfway to the door. "I'm sure you've played enough steamroller politics in your day to know how it's done. Anyway, from the sound of things the whole question's academic. If the Dorcas Peacekeepers have launched an attack, it's going to be a while before Thrr't-rokik comes back to talk to us. Even assuming the Overclan Prime lets him do it."
"They want peace, Bronski," Cavanagh said. "At least the Overclan Prime does."
"You just hold that thought. Kolchin?"
"Slingshot's finished," Kolchin said. He held up one of the leg frames of the cot, now sporting an elastic band from his tunic waist strung between two of the right-angle sections.
"What about the bolas?"
"One's done," Kolchin said, indicating a lumpy assortment of bolts and nuts connected by long cords pulled from somewhere else in his clothing. "I'll be another minute on the other one."
"Good." Bronski stepped back to the cot frame and began working at the loose wire mesh that normally supported the mattress. A minute later he had one end loose; leaving the other end fastened to the frame, he began unweaving it from the other wires.
"All right, I give up," Cavanagh said. "What in the world are you two doing?"
"You saw how that Bhurt came charging in here earlier," Bronski said. He had nearly three meters of wire loose now. Peering briefly up at the ceiling light rectangle, he unwrapped another meter. "Bhurtala like to make that kind of grand entrance. Kolchin, do you have a spare nut and bolt over there?"
"Sure." Kolchin lobbed them across to him. "The second bola's ready."
"Start poking holes in those floater pads," Bronski ordered. "Make sure the outer mattress cover doesn't touch the liquid that comes out-they're usually treated with catalytic sealer coagulant. Cavanagh, go stand there in the corner away from the door and be ready to run. And don't get any of the floater liquid on your boots-it's slippery as hell."
Silently, Cavanagh complied. Bronski wrapped the loose end of his wire around the bolt and secured it with the nut, then took up position off to one side of the room with Kolchin's slingshot. Kolchin was busily puncturing the floater pads, releasing the dark, faintly noxious-smelling fluid inside. By the time he'd finished and collected his two bolas, the pool had spread out to cover a good half of the floor. "Ready?" he asked Bronski, stepping over to the door.
Bronski set his wire-wrapped projectile against the elastic and pulled it back. "Ready."
Kolchin nodded. Keeping clear of the door itself, he eased the end of his stiffener into the gap he'd opened earlier in the edge of the lock cover. For a moment he probed around; then, with a distinctivesnick, the lock tripped.
As the one Bhurt had earlier, the two Bhurtala outside must have been just waiting for their opportunity. With a horrendous crash the door was flung open and both of the big aliens charged into the room, eager for trouble.
They got it, but not the kind they were expecting. The first Bhurt was no more than a long pace into the room when Kolchin's bola caught him squarely at the knees, the spinning weighted cords wrapping themselves instantly around his legs. He bellowed in rage, his forward momentum faltering as he flailed for balance.
With Bhurtist muscle behind it, it took only half a second for him to snap the cords. But even as he did so, his fellow guard, already crowding too close behind him, caught the second bola around his legs and slammed into him.
They hit the floor together, hard enough for Cavanagh to feel the vibration right through the stone, splattering the walls with a splash of floater-pad fluid. The enraged bellows took on a slight gurgling as their forward momentum sent them surfing helplessly through the slippery liquid to collide with the cot frame across the room.
And as it came crashing down on top of them, Bronski fired his weighted wire directly into the overhead light fixture. There was a spatter of sparks as the wire made its connection to the power line-another spatter where the Bhurtala touched the cot fra
me-
And then Bronski's hand was on Cavanagh's shoulder, shoving him around the still-quivering door and out of the room. Kolchin was already outside, looking back and forth along the corridor. "Clear," he said.
"Won't be for long," Bronski grunted, pulling the door closed behind them and locking it. "Didn't get as good a contact as I'd hoped-they'll be up and making faces at the spy-eyes in a minute or two."
"Then we'd better get going," Kolchin said. "Back out the way we came in?"
"Probably our best bet," Bronski agreed. "You take point; let's go."
"This is insane, Thrr-gilag," Second Commander Klnn-vavgi said, his voice tight, his tail spinning hard. "Tell him that. It's insane."
"He won't listen to me," Thrr-gilag said mechanically, his full attention on Pheylan Cavanagh and the catastrophic situation the Human's actions had now put them all in. Whatever Mnov-korthe had hoped to gain politically from his discovery of the illegal cutting, it would have been blown away like dust by the fact that they'd succeeded in rescuing Prr't-zevisti.
But Pheylan Cavanagh hadn't understood that... and in his attempt to protect the cutting, he'd now sliced to shreds any hope of dealing with this matter quietly.
"This is your fault, Searcher," Mnov-korthe said softly. The Human arm across his neck made his voice sound a little odd, but the rage beneath it came through with no trouble at all. "You're the one who took the illegal cutting; you're the one who brought this female Human-Conqueror here; you're the one who let this male Human-Conqueror escape from you in the first place. You're finished, Thrr-gilag; Kee'rr. You and your entire family."
"You're not exactly helping the matter, either," Thrr-gilag told him, glancing at Klnn-dawan-a and Klnn-vavgi. Whatever happened, he had to keep both of them as far out of this as possible. There were probably legal limits as to what an agent of the Dhaa'rr could do to a Kee'rr. He doubted such limits existed for members of his own clan. "You're the one who ordered the warriors to shoot Melinda Cavanagh-"
"She attacked me," Mnov-korthe snapped.
"Andyou could probably resolve this right now by pledging not to harm either of them," Thrr-gilag snapped back.
Mnov-korthe flicked the tip of his tongue in contempt. "I will make no such pledge," he said. "Not to enemies of the Zhirrzh."
"Why, because Pheylan Cavanagh was able to grab you?" Thrr-gilag said with some contempt of his own. "Get it through your head, Mnov-korthe, that there are bigger things at risk here than your pride. Maybe even an end of the war."
Mnov-korthe smiled thinly. "The war will end soon enough," he said with quiet assurance. "With a victory for the Zhirrzh."
Thrr-gilag felt his midlight pupils narrow. What did he mean by that-?
"Second Commander!" a thin Elder voice broke into his thoughts. "The Human-Conquerors are launching an attack!"
"Where are they?" Klnn-vavgi demanded.
"Still in flight, coming from the east," a second Elder reported. "Coming in force. One of their spacecraft appears to be attempting to leave the planet-"
"Second Commander, the other Human-Conqueror prisoner has escaped!" a third Elder shouted. "Those explosions-they tore an opening in his holding room. He has disabled both warriors guarding him and has taken one of their laser rifles."
"Things seem to be falling apart around you, Second Commander," Mnov-korthe suggested, his voice smooth with menace. "You'd better get outside and deal with them. Just leave me those two warriors and some Elders I can give orders to."
"You can't do that, Klnn-vavgi," Klnn-dawan-a said urgently. "He'll kill the Human-Conquerors if you leave. You can't let that happen."
"I'm in command on Dorcas, Second Commander," Mnov-korthe reminded him. "You will obey my orders."
Klnn-vavgi grimaced... and then, even as Thrr-gilag watched, he seemed to straighten up to a decision. "Communicator, go to the warriors at the base of the Human-Conqueror aircraft," he ordered. "Tell them that Commander Thrr-mezaz is to be released immediately and returned to command."
"I absolutely forbid that," Mnov-korthe snapped before the Elder could reply. "I'm in command here-I have a document so stating from the Overclan Seating."
Prr't-zevisti reappeared. "A message from the Overclan Prime, Second Commander: 'I concur with your decision to reinstate Commander Thrr-mezaz-' "
"You will keep silence, traitor to the Dhaa'rr," Mnov-korthe said, his voice a vicious snarl that sent a twitch along Thrr-gilag's tail. "I reject your claim that you're in contact with the Overclan Prime. It's utterly impossible. You are speaking criminal lies."
"But I can prove it," Prr't-zevisti insisted. "Ask any question you wish-"
"And even if you were, the significance and importance of this particular Overclan Prime will very shortly fade into the mists of history," Mnov-korthe added, his eyes flicking back and forth now between Klnn-vavgi and the two warriors. "When the Speaker for Dhaa'rr has exposed his treason, those who have stood by him will fall along with him."
Thrr-gilag exchanged startled glances with Klnn-dawan-a. "What treason?" he demanded. "There's been no treason here."
"Keep silence, Kee'rr." Mnov-korthe flicked his tongue at the two warriors still flanking the doorway. "You two are Dhaa'rr, sworn to obey Warrior Command and the Overclan Seating. Will you stand with me, with my proved authority from the Seating? Or will you stand with criminal liars and traitors to the Zhirrzh?"
The warriors glanced at each other. "We stand by our oath," one of them said cautiously. "But-"
"Wisely spoken," Mnov-korthe said. "And there will thus be no need afterward for your families to be destroyed. Elder?"
"Yes?"
"Inform my brother Mnov-dornt that he is to assume command of the battle preparations," Mnov-korthe ordered. "Tell him I'll be joining him soon. Warriors, you will escort Second Commander Klnn-vavgi to the Human-Conqueror aircraft to join with Commander Thrr-mezaz."
"You can't do that," Thrr-gilag said, taking a step forward.
"But before you do," Mnov-korthe amended, "you will carry out one other task." His tongue flicked out toward Thrr-gilag. "This Kee'rr is a traitor to the Zhirrzh and, through his contacts with the Human-Conquerors, is a clear danger to this warrior force. I therefore order him raised to Eldership.
"Now."
"They won't listen to me," Prr't-zevisti said, his voice trembling with fear and frustration. "That Dhaa'rr-Mnov-korthe-refuses to believe I'm delivering messages from you. He's denouncing me as a criminal liar; and he's saying thatyou're a traitor."
The Prime flicked his tongue savagely. He would have expected an agent of Speaker Cvv-panav to be ruthless, but not to be so audacious as to cry treason. What in the eighteen worlds did Cvv-panav have poised that he could even think of taking such a stupendous risk? "Go to Commander Thrr-mezaz," he bit out. "Tell him that I order him to resume command."
"I can't reach him," Prr't-zevisti said. "He's inside the Human's metal aircraft."
"What about the warriors guarding him?"
"Both are Dhaa'rr," Prr't-zevisti said, his voice sounding distracted. Listening to what was happening on Dorcas. "Mnov-korthe is ordering his brother Mnov-dornt to be put in command. Ordering Second Commander Klnn-vavgi to be put in detention with Commander Thrr-mezaz-"
He jerked suddenly. "He's ordering the warriors to raise Thrr-gilag to Eldership!"
"Get back there," the Prime snapped. "Order them not to obey."
Prr't-zevisti was already gone. "Overclan Prime," Thrr't-rokik breathed. "My son-will he-?"
The Prime looked at him. For perhaps the first time reallylooked at him. At that pale Elder face, echoing a lifetime of simple honest labor. A face that had no doubt been filled with shame for his wife when thefsss theft he'd helped to organize had branded her a criminal. A face now filled with anxiety for the danger his son was in.
Back when all of this had started, the previous Primes had insisted that it was sometimes necessary for individuals to be sacrificed for the greater political good. Distantly, the
Prime wondered if any of them had ever had to face the individuals they had so sacrificed.
"ETA, twelve minutes," Takara reported. "We'll be in range of those outer laser installations in ten."
"Understood," Holloway said. "Stand by."
"Yes, sir."
He gazed out the canopy at the scattering of lights ahead marking the Zhirrzh encampment, a small voice in the back of his mind reminding him that Melinda Cavanagh was not going to approve of this at all. Considering her feelings toward the Zhirrzh in general and Prr't-zevisti in particular, in fact, she might well decide to hate him for what he was about to do.
Timothy Zahn - Conquerors 03 - Conquerors' Legacy Page 51