by Ian J Miller
"Exactly so," Kazyn agreed. "When the enemy turned up they saw enough agreement that they thought they had it, and even though they admitted later they suspected this was part of Earth's strategy, there was one more reason why they turned up, and that was, since they could not win a war of attrition, this was the one chance for a decisive victory, and oddly enough, that applied to both sides."
"So, the humans beat an advanced enemy," Methrell pointed out, "but that enemy offered battle at their chosen site, which we would not do."
"True," Kazyn said, "but we cannot do any damage to Earth without approaching it. There are also the three Ulsian battleships to consider, and the fact that if we do that, a battle-hardened Ulse may just decide to remove us from any further participation."
"Ulsians cannot do anything within one and a half millennia," Zakryn pointed out, "unless they have already sent ships, which is unlikely bearing in mind they have a much more immediate enemy from the other direction."
"That is true," Kazyn replied, "but…"
"But you don't want to commit our species to extinction then?" Methrell prompted.
"True, and there is one further point," Kazyn continued. "These two Ulsian ships will have returned close to Kroth, and will have sent on news. The Krothians may have wondered whether we would really help or instead do what we ended up doing. If they picked that we wouldn't send proper help, they would not wish to have a resurgent enemy that might form some sort of alliance with us. If so, their obvious precautionary move would be to send a fleet to clean out enemy activity here, with us included in the enemy classification."
"So what action do you recommend?" Methrell asked. "After all, philosophy is fine, but we actually have to do something."
"I believe we should invite the Terrans to put their proposals for a peace treaty, and we should negotiate in good faith and sign any treaty in accord with what we have already assured Ulse we would do," Kazyn replied.
"The safe option?"
"It is the honourable option," Kazyn said, "and for that matter it is the morally correct option. We accepted the territories available to Earth when Ulse negotiated them, so it would be dishonourable not to accept them now."
"And suppose the Terrans want more?" Methrell asked.
"I know they will accept those allocations," Kazyn replied.
"Suppose there was a complicating factor?" Methrell persisted.
"Such as?"
"Let us stop this conversation for the time being," Methrell said softly. "Let us have the next course, and some drinks. I shall signal for waiters."
Stopping that conversation effectively stopped all conversation. They sat, watching Methrell speak into a communicator, then begin clearing space at a table. Then the door opened, and the waiters appeared dressed in clean white robes. Kazyn gasped. They were humans! The plates were placed on the table, and the slightly fearful looking waiters bowed, and left.
When the door was closed, Methrell looked at Kazyn and said, "That is the complicating factor I mentioned. Over two millennia ago, a number of humans were abducted from Earth, and enslaved here, or kept as pets. Such a transfer was, of course, against the treaty, but, well, when they turned up, returning them would have been worse. Eventually there was a revolt, and, well, after some rather unfortunate events, which were covered up by the Military Curia, the police, the academics, the religious centres and the Space Curia, a form of coexistence has prevailed."
"I never knew," Kazyn shook his head.
"The humans have agreed to stay out of sight," Methrell explained, "especially from the Space Curia."
"But those? Were they…?"
"They're not slaves, if that's what you're asking. They were specifically requested to do just that, this evening, and their safety was guaranteed. I don't think they were completely convinced on that, but . . ."
"But any Ranhyn that hurts them disobeys me," Zakryn said coldly, "and I will ensure that such a Ranhyn knows that his last days will start immediately and be extremely painful. You may or may not believe that, but my soldiers believe me, and more to the point, they would be very pleased to enforce the pain."
"The question is, what will the Terrans think if they find out about these humans?" Methrell asked.
"They already know about them," Kazyn said.
"They do?" Methrell frowned. "Have they been spying? And how?"
"I should correct myself," Kazyn said quickly. "They know that humans were transferred to Ranh. Claudius' sister's husband was sent here." He paused, and shrugged and said, "As far as I can tell, it won't make any difference. The fact that some are still alive will help, as long as there aren't a number of horror stories to be told."
"Suppose there were?" Methrell continued. "Before you answer, let me be clear that the Ranhyn military, and the government organizations that know about these humans have insisted that they be treated with respect, and without cruelty, although of course they are not considered equal to us. However, I cannot guarantee that there have never been criminal acts, and my guess is that some Ranhyn somewhere will have captured and eaten one."
"I'm prepared to assure you that events in the past will not be too much of a problem," Kazyn said softly. "Events in the present may be. If you know of any, it might be helpful to tell me so . . ."
"No," Methrell replied. "I don't know of any, and if I hear of any, I shall take action."
"The Terrans will accept that criminal acts are inevitable," Kazyn replied, "and, as I can remind them, they occur on Earth. That will not be a problem, although what happens to the perpetrators might be."
"That is good to hear," Methrell nodded.
"So what happens now?" Kazyn asked.
"It appears you want to play in the big league," Methrell smiled, bearing some particularly vicious teeth. "Invite your nestling down, and present her to Tenzat Tergyn."
"And the position of the Military Curia?" Kazyn asked curiously.
"No position is as yet required," Zakryn shrugged. "Formally, the Space Curia alone is required to take a position. They will then present their outcome to us only if war seems imminent, or to them, a preferred option. Our response must be dependent on their reason for war."
"And if Tergyn continues to refuse to invite them?"
"You will have to use some of that tactical nous you keep hinting at," Methrell smiled, and gave his neck feathers a soft stroking with her main claw, which, as Kazyn noted, was particularly vicious-looking.
At that point Zakryn rose and excused himself. He explained that he was extremely busy, but he really did appreciate the rats. Methrell also excused herself, and also commended his taste in rodents. Kazyn bowed, and said he would have to try to find some further gastric delights for her.
"I'm sure," Methrell stroked him again, "that a truly important Ranhyn could find delights for a female's stomach," and with that she turned and left.
Kazyn stared at her departing form, then seemed to be lost in thought. Finally, he looked up towards Tes, and said, "I guess that's the evening."
"You could remain and eat the last rat," Tes pointed out, "and I'm tempted to watch the news." He got up, grabbed a remote, and pressed.
Kazyn looked at the rat, then came to a decision. He looked towards Tes, and asked, "Have you got a pen, and something to write on?"
"There should be something over here," Tes nodded, as the wall screen came to life. He ferreted around a little, then came back with the two items. With a quick flourish, Kazyn grasped the pen, and wrote on the paper, 'A tasty temptation for Methrell,' then attached that to the cage.
"Hah! Getting ambitious!" Tes grinned. "She may be outside your league, though," he warned.
"She's important," Kazyn noted, "so the odd bit of temptation may not be out of place."
"She would love to get into your larder," Tes noted.
"I know," Kazyn replied. "I'd better make sure there's always something there to tempt her. Meanwhile, I must also go. There's some plotting to do."
"Wait and
see what's going on," Tes almost insisted, and began flicking channels. The news, Kazyn noted, had a strange familiarity about it, indeed it was not much different from the news he used to watch before leaving for Earth. The names and places had been altered, but the nature of the events was depressingly familiar.
He was about to take his leave, when suddenly there was something different. His image was on the screen, and an announcement followed that he was wanted for murder.
"What the . . ." he spluttered.
"If you wanted to get noticed," Tes remarked dryly, "I suppose that's one way of doing it."
"But . . . I have no idea what this's about." He paused, then added for Tes' benefit, "I haven't killed anyone."
"I never said you did," Tes said.
"I'll have to go to the police at once and clear this up," Kazyn said.
"Wait!" Tes suggested. "We've exchanged feathers, so I'm obliged to try to help."
"I doubt there's much you can do," Kazyn shrugged. "I rather suspect someone's out to get me, and it looks as if they're off to a pretty good start."
"We can find out what's going on. Wait here, and I'll see if I can persuade my cousin to make some enquiries."
Kazyn watched Tes leave, then he quickly took a communicator from his pocket. He must get a message to Hadell. He would use his first code word to let her know there was trouble, and with the use of that word she would know where he was. He would tell her he was running, which, with this code word meant he was staying, and he would get her to watch the news so that she knew what was going on.
* * *
When Tes returned, he informed Kazyn that Methrell wished him to remain while she made enquiries. He waited, and they watched the screen, however Kazyn could barely focus on what was there. Tes tried cheering him up, and offered drinks, but it was no good. Kazyn's mind was racing, but it was getting nowhere, except that he was beginning to suspect that this was political. Tenzat Tergyn clearly wished him out of the way. Could this be a move to permanently remove him? If so, why?
They waited almost two hours before Methrell finally entered the room. She stared at Kazyn, then grinned widely as she said, "Well, you've certainly had a busy evening."
"What's going on?" Kazyn asked.
"As if you didn't know?" she teased.
"As it happens, I don't," Kazyn replied.
"If there were ever a feather-brained offence, this was it," Methrell began to explain. "At one hour after sundown, there was apparently a dreadful sequence of screams from your apartment. A neighbour rang the police, and they forced an entry. There, in the larder, hanging from a hook and with the blood draining as, I gather, more in the Terran than a Ranhyn way, was the carcass of that jackass you plucked the other day. The general theory was initially that you somehow captured him, brought him home, executed him, and were preparing to eat him at your leisure." She looked at him and said, "Really, if you were going to do something like that, you should at least have kept it quiet."
"I didn't do that," Kazyn said quietly, "and you know it."
"I do?" Methrell challenged.
"It was about one hour after sundown that you ate your first rat," Kazyn pointed out.
"Ha! You have an alibi!" Methrell said calmly. "I don't suppose it has occurred to you that I might deny your very presence?"
A chill fell over Kazyn. Now what? "I must admit," he said calmly, "that after the way you took those rats, that didn't occur to me."
"Perhaps you underestimate my deviousness?" she challenged harshly.
"Perhaps I didn't know what was going on, or, for that matter," he added, "I still don't."
"Why do you think you were invited here?" Methrell asked. "Just why, exactly, do you think you're so important?"
"You mean, you invited me here to make sure I wasn't somewhere else?" Kazyn asked. He was not the slightest bit interested in the answer, but he had to gain time.
"You have an eminently deniable alibi," Methrell said harshly, "and it's in my interest to deny it."
"Why? What interest?" At the back of Kazyn's mind, a thought came forward. If they wanted to have him arrested, they would do it. Why talk? There was some sort of negotiation going on, but why?
"It is in our interest to ensure you are not present at the negotiations with the Terrans," Methrell said simply. "Also, you have embarrassed our family with this fool," she said, pointing to Tes.
"Don't worry," Tes interrupted. "I will swear you were with me at the time."
"That'll really help," Methrell muttered sarcastically.
"Oh you don't think . . ." Tes started to protest.
"I don't think you can even guess what that'd do," Methrell said with a shake of her head. "Kazyn, when you exchanged feathers, what did you do with Tes' feather?"
"I placed it above my bed-head in the approved fashion," Kazyn said. "Why?"
"Because no such feather was present in your apartment," Methrell said. "I have viewed the police evidential records."
"They stole a feather?" Kazyn exclaimed in surprise.
"So far," Methrell pointed out, "the police are not seeking any 'theys'. They're looking for you. Whether you took your feather or not is of little concern to them."
"But it is of concern to you?" Kazyn pointed out. "Why is that feather important?"
"I suspect it's more important for Tes," Methrell said. "Apparently the carcass has a small piece of feather embedded under a claw. The police are convinced that that got there during the struggle." She turned to Tes, and added, "My guess is that it's your feather."
"You mean, they think I did it?" Tes exclaimed.
"No," Methrell said irritably. "They think Kazyn did it, and they probably think it's his feather. If you stop and think about it, though, after the exchange of feathers, you would be Kazyn's formal ally, but suppose you were really mad at Kazyn? Suppose you knew he was out, and you did that to set him up?"
"Yes, but he's the one that's set up."
"But suppose he had an alibi?" Methrell persisted. "Then the police might suddenly start to think they should do a DNA on that feather, and before you know it, you're in their sights."
"And if we've got the same alibi, it won't look good unless it's a hundred per cent solid," Kazyn nodded.
"Yes, you see it, don't you."
"Fortunately," Kazyn began to grin for the first time, "I have a solid alibi."
"If we back it up," Methrell snarled back. "Suppose we find it more convenient to hang you out to drain?" She paused, and turned towards Tes. "You see," she continued, "if we're going to save your miserable feathers, we have to keep the police thinking that Kazyn did it, which means, young Kuyrill, you're actually more use to us dead than alive."
"You can't kill me here," Kazyn pointed out. "I promise you won't be able to clean up all the DNA, including the rat hairs, before the place is examined."
"Nobody's going to be examining this place for some time," Methrell said. "This is a Tenzat's house. Procedurally . . ."
"Hadell knows that I'm still here," Kazyn said simply, "because I sent her a message. If I do not send a confirmatory message that I'm all right, she will send the investigators. Remember, she is an ex-Tenzat, and has almost equivalent rights, together with some additional ones."
"Your point," Methrell nodded. "Thank you for that very helpful comment. I guess we shall have to let you run, hunt you down and kill you then." She paused, then added, "In fact that's better. If you're obviously running when we knock you off, nobody's going to look at that feather. It'll be case closed, because, well, let's admit it, the police here are hardly the smartest or the most energetic of the Ranhynn. This way, our Tes will survive."
"If you let me out," Kazyn said, "then kill me, I promise you you'll regret it. I have an iron-tight alibi."
"And who's going to back you up and be believed more than me?"
"My nestling," Kazyn replied.
"I don't want to disappoint you, but she's up on a space ship," Methrell frowned. "I find it hard to bel
ieve that she'll be believed."
"Hadell will let her know I was here, and she will also let her know that there were humans here . . ."
"Hadell doesn't know," Methrell frowned.
"You forget, I sent her a message. And believe me, Claudius' sister will be extremely angry with you if you start bullying humans."
"And you think . . ."
"Stop!" Zakryn was standing in the doorway. "Kazyn, you can rest assured we shall not abandon you. I requested Methrell to do that."
"I don't suppose you'll tell me why?" Kazyn said bitterly.
"Because this is more complicated than it appears at first sight, and I'm not at all sure what to do next. I needed to know whether I had to protect you, or whether you might possibly participate in sorting this out. But if I'm going to use you, I had to know how you would react under pressure, so I requested Methrell to put on some pressure and frighten you."
"And I failed," Methrell shook her head. "Our young Kuyrill was not at all frightened."
"Yes, I was," Kazyn said, "but I don't see . . ."
"What are you beginning to see?" Methrell challenged.
"Either I was the target, or I was not, but in either case there is a deeper objective," Kazyn started, "which means –"
"See!" Methrell turned to her father, "I told you he wasn't as feathery as he looks. He's got right to the nub of the problem."
"If I were the target," Kazyn continued, now encouraged by the reception he had received, "then a wheel fell off because they had no idea where I was but that doesn't make a lot of sense because surely they would make some sort of effort to check?"
"That problem is simple," Zakryn said. "If they had no idea where you would be, they were after you and took a risk. That general incompetence would usually be able to be overcome, but this time you accidentally had an alibi that cannot be touched. So they have totally failed in one sense. Would you try the other scenario?"
"Ha! Suppose they knew I was here," Kazyn improvised. "That would mean that you would provide the alibi, then the feather would be examined, it would be found to be Tes', then they would think you're covering up, and . . . But that wouldn't work because there are other witnesses."