Timothy Zahn - Conquerors 03 - Conquerors' Legacy

by Conquerors' Legacy(lit)

  But, ultimately, that didn't matter. It was her life that was at stake here, and her brother's life, and the lives of a lot of good Peacekeepers. And if the loss of her respect was the price he had to pay to protect those lives, then so be it.

  "Activate," he ordered.

  Slowly, almost reluctantly, the two Zhirrzh warriors turned their weapons away from Pheylan. Melinda sighed with relief-

  And gasped as the muzzles turned to line up instead on Thrr-gilag. "Wait!" she shouted. "No. Stop!"

  "It is too late, Melinda Cavanagh," Thrr-gilag said. He drew himself up, his corkscrewing tail slowing down as he apparently accepted the inevitable.

  "Wait," Melinda pleaded, twisting her head around to look at him more fully. "Tell him we'll make a deal. If Pheylan lets him go-"

  And then, to her horror, Thrr-gilag suddenly gasped, a violent convulsion running through his body. Twisting at the waist, he bent over to one side and toppled to the floor.

  "No!" Melinda gasped. She wrenched her head back around toward the other Zhirrzh-

  To an incredible sight. Klnn-dawan-a was on her knees, only Klnn-vavgi's slack grip on her arm keeping her from collapsing completely. Klnn-vavgi himself was gripping the edge of the table with his other hand, swaying back and forth as if suddenly gone drunk. The two warriors were similarly staggering, leaning on their laser rifles for balance.

  And then Prr't-zevisti screamed, a bizarre, unearthly sound... and abruptly Melinda understood.

  "Pheylan, get their weapons," she called. "Quickly."

  Mnov-korthe was twisting dizzily in his grip; shoving him aside, Pheylan hobbled across to the warriors. Wrenching one of the weapons away, he touched something on the barrel, and suddenly Melinda was free of the grip pinioning her arms and legs. She scrambled to her feet as Pheylan relieved the second warrior of his weapon. "What the hell's going on?" he demanded.

  "Holloway put a white-noise radio transmitter in the vital-signs monitor," she said, taking one of the rifles from him. "He didn't bother to tell me that he'd set up a remote trigger for it."

  "I guess that pretty well proves this Elderdeath-weapon theory," Pheylan said, the beads of sweat on his face evidence of what his trek across the room had cost him. "What now?"

  "We shut the thing off, that's what," Melinda said, studying the laser rifle in her hands. She'd seen Holloway's techs demonstrating how it worked....

  "No, Melinda Cavanagh. You must not."

  Melinda looked up, a shiver running through her. It had been Prr't-zevisti's voice, but so distorted by pain as to be almost unrecognizable. "Prr't-zevisti, I have to shut it down."

  "No," Prr't-zevisti said, his transparent face as agonized as his voice. "You must... let it continue. It is the... only way for... you to stop... the attack."

  "But I can't let you suffer like this," she protested.

  "You have to," Pheylan said, taking the rifle from her hand. "He's right-you've got to get out there and stop Holloway before he wrecks everything. The radio's all that's keeping the Zhirrzh off balance-you won't get ten meters without it."

  Melinda bit hard at her lip. But it was hurting them all so horribly-But it's not killing them, she told herself sternly.Neither the Elders nor the warriors. You're a surgeon; start thinking surgical priorities. "All right," she said. "How do I do it?"

  "First get out of that obedience suit," Pheylan told her, reaching over to unfasten the suit's neck. "They'll have another trigger for it out there somewhere. Then get over to that aircar parked at the south end of the landing field, the one you said Janovetz came here in. There should be a laser comm built in. You know how to use one?"

  "I think so," Melinda said, pulling off the last leg of the suit and shivering as the evening air hit sweaty skin. "What then?"

  "Then you say whatever you have to to get Holloway to pull back," Pheylan said grimly.

  She looked at Thrr-gilag, clutching dizzily at the floor. "Thrr-gilag...?"

  "I will explain to Klnn-vavgi," the other panted. "And the Overclan Prime will also understand. Go. Quickly."

  "All right." Melinda opened the door; paused. The radio over there, still blaring its Elderdeath pain... "Give me two minutes," she told her brother. "Then destroy that radio. If I can't stop Holloway, I won't have the Zhirrzh being sitting ducks for him."

  Pheylan's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "Two minutes. Good luck."

  They were perhaps halfway down the hallway leading to the back door they'd entered the fortress by when Kolchin abruptly stopped. "Someone's coming," he whispered, taking a step back and pushing open the door he'd just passed. He glanced in and nodded, and three seconds later they were inside. Kolchin closed the door to a crack, peering out through the narrow gap, and a moment later Cavanagh heard the rhythmic thudding of heavy feet approaching down the corridor. The footsteps passed, faded away- "Valloittaja?" Bronski asked quietly.

  "No," Kolchin said, easing the door open and looking out after them. "A different Mrach and two Bhurtala."

  Bronski nodded. "Let's hope they're not the guard change."

  "Clear," Kolchin said, opening the door the rest of the way and slipping outside.

  They reached the tunnel leading to the exit door without seeing or hearing anyone else. There Bronski stopped, peering cautiously down the tunnel. "Well, come on," Cavanagh urged. "What are we waiting for?"

  "I don't know," Bronski muttered. "Something feels wrong about all this. It's a little too easy."

  "They're planning to kill us," Cavanagh pointed out tartly. "What could they have planned that's worse?"

  "Point," Bronski conceded. "All right, let's give it a try." He stepped into the tunnel-

  "Lord Stewart Cavanagh."

  Cavanagh spun around toward the voice. Thrr't-rokik had finally returned. "Thrr't-rokik!" he said in relief. "We thought something had happened to you-"

  "What's happening on Dorcas?" Bronski interrupted.

  "There is still trouble," the Elder said, his words tumbling over each other. "But there is new trouble here. The Mrachanis have wrapped a second metal sheet directly around theClosed Mouth. The Elders are now sealed inside, and I cannot talk to Speaker Nzz-oonaz. They are also putting many objects on the ceiling of the hangar."

  "What do the objects look like?" Bronski asked. "Long, narrow tubes?" He demonstrated with his hands.

  "Yes," Thrr't-rokik said. "Many of them in a single bundle. And many bundles."

  Bronski swore. "Fracture explosives," he said. "Damn it all-Valloittaja's trying to collapse the cliffs above the hangar."

  Cavanagh felt his chest tighten. "With the Zhirrzh ship still inside?"

  "Yeah, it's called burying your mistakes," Bronski said, starting down the exit tunnel and gesturing the others to follow. "I knew this would be coming-I just didn't figure on the Zhirrzh being able to get another ship here this fast."

  "But-oh, God," Cavanagh murmured as it finally clicked. Of course: the Overclan Prime would have immediately dispatched another ship to investigate. It had closed to within six light-years of Mra now, and its distinctive tachyon wake-trail had appeared on the Mrachanis' detectors.

  And Valloittaja, whose best efforts had probably not even been able to scratch theClosed Mouth's hull, had decided to settle for a stalemate. "So they're going to drop a million-ton mountain on top of the ship and kill everyone aboard," he said. "And undoubtedly try to blame us."

  "Which means," Kolchin said quietly, "those two Bhurtala we saw were probably heading to our room."

  "To get us ready for our grand finale," Bronski agreed. "Human bodies to show to the Zhirrzh when they arrive."

  They had reached the end of the tunnel now and the door they'd entered the fortress through. "What will you do?" Thrr't-rokik asked.

  "Try to stay a jump ahead of them," Bronski told him, easing the door open. The cool night wind whistled in through the crack, accompanied by a sliver of pale moonlight. "I'll be damned. Our rented aircar's still out there. Maybe Valloittaja's missed a bet after
all." He pushed the door open-

  "Hold it," Cavanagh said suddenly, gripping his arm. "They're trying to stage this as a human attack, right? Well, to do that, don't they have to produce human bodies from an aircar wreck?"

  "Sure do," Bronski agreed. "My guess is that's why we haven't heard any noise over our escape. They were probably expecting us to demolish that group who just went to get us and make a run for it. Probably why Valloittaja sent one of his stooges instead of coming along himself for last-minute gloating-he didn't want to put his own skin at risk. All we did by taking out our guards was move up the timetable a bit and save them the trouble of herding us out here."

  "You mean theywant us to get in that aircar and fly away?" Cavanagh asked.

  "That's my guess."

  "That's terrific," Cavanagh gritted. "So what exactly is this bet you think he's missed?"

  "You'll see." Bronski started to push the door open, then paused. "Thrr't-rokik... look, there's a fair chance this isn't going to work. If it doesn't, the three of us are going to die here. In case that happens-"

  He took a deep breath, throwing a sour look at Cavanagh. "In case that happens, there's something the Overclan Prime needs to know. The weapon CIRCE that he's so afraid of doesn't exist. Never has existed. Do you understand?"

  "I am not sure," Thrr't-rokik said, his expression odd. "The Zhirrzh have read about it. Pheylan Cavanagh spoke of it."

  "He was lied to," Bronski said. "All of us were, for a long time. But what I'm telling you now is the truth. The Zhirrzh have nothing to fear from CIRCE, or from the Commonwealth. Make sure the Overclan Prime knows that."

  "I obey," Thrr't-rokik said. "I thank you, and I will return your trust to you."

  He vanished. "What did he mean by that?" Cavanagh asked.

  "No idea," Bronski said. "But we haven't got time to wait and find out. Come on.'

  He led the way out into the night. All three of Mra's moons were in the sky overhead, bathing the ground in a pale yellowish light. "What now?" Cavanagh whispered as Bronski moved carefully forward. "We make a run for it?"

  "I'm worried about those sentry holes," the brigadier said, nodding toward the flanking rock walls where the Bhurtala had been hidden earlier. "We're only assuming this is what Valloittaja has in mind."

  And then Thrr't-rokik was back. "There are three Mrach aircraft waiting around the curve of rock," he said, his tongue flicking to point to the left. "Two more there"-the tongue flicked right-"and five behind the rock above."

  "Check over there," Cavanagh told him, pointing to the sentry holes. "Inside holes in the rock. See if anyone's hiding there."

  The ghost flicked away; flicked back. "No one is there."

  "I could get used to having these guys around," Bronski said dryly. "Go."

  They made it to the aircar without incident. Bronski slipped into the pilot's seat and gave the control board a quick but careful scan. He keyed the main power control, and the board lit up with muted light. "Cross your fingers, gentlemen," he said. "Here goes."

  "How are you going to evade those Mrachani aircars?" Cavanagh asked.

  Bronski threw him a tight smile. "As a matter of fact," he said, "I'm not even going to try."

  The roar of approaching aircars was audible as Melinda flattened herself against the side of the Peacekeeper aircar, her breath coming in quick, hot gasps. There were Zhirrzh all across the field, dimly visible in the sunset's fading afterglow. Some were still on their feet, swaying with the disorienting loss of balance the radio was causing; most had already conceded defeat and were lying on the ground twitching. Helpless and harmless.

  But that would change. In approximately thirty seconds.

  "Cavanagh?"

  Melinda jumped. "Who-"

  "Janovetz, Doctor," the other identified himself, rolling out from beneath the aircar. He, too, had gotten rid of his obedience suit. "Figured you'd come here if you got free. Where's Commander Cavanagh?"

  "He's all right for now," Melinda told him. "We've got to get inside the aircar and tell Colonel Holloway to stop his attack."

  "You've got to be kidding," Janovetz said. "Something's happened to all the Zhirrzh-this is the perfect time for an attack."

  "I know what's happened," Melinda said. She had a flash of inspiration- "It's a trap."

  "I should have guessed," Janovetz muttered. "Come on."

  They circled around the aircar's nose to the landing ramp. Two Zhirrzh were twitching on the ground at the foot; passing between them, Janovetz ran up the ramp and ducked through the hatchway. Hopping up behind him, Melinda followed-

  And suddenly Janovetz tumbled back out again, flopping with a terrible crash onto his back on the ramp.

  "Janovetz!" Melinda gasped, dropping onto her knees at his side. Even in the dim light she could see the dark bloodstain slowly spreading over his chest and shoulder. Reflexively, she reached for a sleeve to tear for a bandage, stopped with a curse as her fingers hit bare skin, and instead felt for the wound. Not in the neck as she'd feared, but higher up on the cheek. At least he wouldn't bleed to death.

  But there was Zhirrzh tongue poison in the wound. If it wasn't treated quickly...

  His eyes fluttered open. "Leave me," he whispered. "Warn... the colonel."

  Melinda blinked away sudden tears. "I will," she promised. She scrambled back to her feet-

  And stopped. A Zhirrzh was standing in front of her, just inside the hatchway, one hand gripping his side, but otherwise apparently unaffected by the Elderdeath weapon blazing across the landing field.

  Standing inside the shielding effects of the metal hull.

  "I have to get through," she said, knowing even as she spoke that her human words probably wouldn't be understood. "Please. I have to stop this attack."

  The Zhirrzh didn't reply; but suddenly there was a sharp word from behind her.

  Slowly, she turned around. The two Zhirrzh at the foot of the landing ramp were on their feet again, their weapons and eyes pointed directly at her. All around the landing field, the rest of the Zhirrzh were coming back to life.

  Following her instructions, Pheylan had destroyed the radio.

  A half-dozen other Zhirrzh were hurrying up now, forming a semicircle around the foot of the ramp. As with the first two, their weapons were trained on her. "I have to call Colonel Holloway," she said, raising her voice. Surely someone out there could understand her. "I have to tell him to stop his attack."

  None of the warriors replied. But suddenly, from off to her left, came a familiar voice. "Melinda Cavanagh?"

  "Thrr-gilag?" she called back in relief. "Come quickly-you have to explain."

  Thrr-gilag raced up to the ring of warriors, already talking. The Zhirrzh in the hatchway said something; was answered- "There's no time to argue," Melinda insisted. The sound of the incoming aircars was growing dangerously loud. "Tell him I have to get in there."

  Thrr-gilag made a hissing sound. "I am sorry, Melinda Cavanagh," he said. "My brother believes me but cannot order the warriors away. Mnov-korthe has taken command away from him-"

  He broke off as a faint Elder voice spoke. Melinda looked around, spotted the pale image beside the Zhirrzh just outside the hatchway. "It is Prr't-zevisti," Thrr-gilag told her. "He is bringing orders from the Overclan Prime for you to be allowed in."

  Melinda looked down. Most of the warriors had reluctantly lowered their weapons.

  But the original two hadn't moved. One of them spoke- "Thrr-gilag?" Melinda asked.

  Thrr-gilag hissed again. "They are Dhaa'rr," he identified them. "They will not accept that Prr't-zevisti is speaking for the Overclan Prime. They will only accept orders from-"

  And then, from somewhere across the landing field, another voice joined in. "From Mnov-korthe," Thrr-gilag said, sounding surprised. "But now he too is ordering the Dhaa'rr to let you pass."

  Melinda blinked. Considering Mnov-korthe's last views on the subject... but there was no time now to reflect on his change of heart. The last two warri
ors had lowered their weapons- "Come on," she told Thrr-gilag, hurrying up the ramp. "We'll need your brother, too."

  The aircar's control board was laid out differently from the civilian aircars Melinda was used to, but it took only a few seconds to locate the laser comm. "Here goes," she muttered, keying it on and hoping the Zhirrzh techs who'd undoubtedly studied the craft hadn't accidentally disabled it. The lights went on; changed color as the tracking control searched out and found the incoming attack force- "Colonel Holloway, this is Melinda Cavanagh," she called into the mike. "You have to break off the attack. Repeat, you have to break off the attack. Colonel Holloway-"