Timothy Zahn - Conquerors 02 - Conquerors' Heritage

by Conquerors' Heritage(lit)

  The two other Humans finished rolling the table into the room and left, leaving the female Human alone inside. The door swung shut behind them, and as it did so, the nearby Elderdeath weapon stopped.

  Doctor-Cavan-a opened a drawer in one of the table's thick side supports and withdrew two unfamiliar pieces of equipment, setting them side by side on the table. One had a thin cable attached; taking the end of the cable, she inserted it into one of the apertures in the raised edge and flicked a switch. There was a soft hum; and with it came a new low-intensity flicker of Elderdeath sensation.

  Prr't-zevisti tensed, expecting the worst. But the level stayed where it was, a sort of mental humming well below any sort of pain threshold. More like the sun-sense he remembered from childhood, now that he thought about it: the ability to locate the sun even through heavy clouds.

  A sense that, like all Zhirrzh children, he'd lost the fullarc after his tenth birth anniversary. For him that had been the most traumatic part of the wholefsss -removal operation, more upsetting than the anesthetic or the wooziness or even the ten fullarcs of bandaged ache at the back of his head. It had been like going a little blind, and not even his parents' assurances that it would be ultimately worthwhile had been any real consolation.

  Impatiently, he sliced away the thought. He was there to study the Humans, not to sit around endlessly reminiscing like some old Elder with nothing better to do. The Human female was making some adjustments to the device, but though the sun-sense altered subtly, it never approached anything remotely painful. Perhaps the Humans had miscalculated the threshold of Elderdeath pain. Or perhaps they thought they could annoy him into submission.

  The Human female touched the small black box, at its customary place on one corner of the table. "Doctor-Cavan-a," she said. "(Something) eighteenth, twenty-three-oh-three."

  Prr't-zevisti eased as close to the lightworld as he dared, straining to understand. The Human-language briefing he'd been given before coming to Dorcas had turned out to be more complete than he'd first realized, and he'd picked up a surprising number of new words in the past three fullarcs just by watching and listening. But it took concentration, and even so there were any number of words that still eluded him.

  "Begin (something) secondary (something) work on the Zhirrzh (something) sample," the Human female continued. "I'll start with a first (something) (something) analysis." She stepped away from the desk-

  And to Prr't-zevisti's sudden horror reached toward the shelf and picked up the box containing hisfsss cutting. Carrying it back to the table, she opened it.

  He was back in the grayworld in an instant, dropping deep into the darkness. Running the only way he could, knowing full well the whole time how utterly useless and childish it was. As long as he was anchored here, whatever pain Doctor-Cavan-a chose to apply to his cutting would instantly be transmitted to him. "I'm take (something) a three (something) sample," he heard Doctor-Cavan-a say. There was a twinge, an almost-felt stab of almost pain-

  And then, nothing. Only the background sun-sense.

  "Sample take (something)," Doctor-Cavan-a continued. "Looks good. I'm put (something) it into the (something)."

  Cautiously, suspiciously, Prr't-zevisti eased back to the edge of the lightworld. Doctor-Cavan-a was bent over one of the instruments, peering into a rectangular tube. Hisfsss cutting was back in its box beside the instrument, apparently untouched.

  He frowned, moving over for a closer look. No; he was wrong. The once-smooth circular edge of the cutting now showed a tiny gap. The sample, apparently, that Doctor-Cavan-a had mentioned.

  He looked back at her. She was still peering into the tube, but from his new vantage point he could now see glimmerings of light from inside it. A hooded display, he decided, and moved beside her for a look.

  It was all he could do to stifle a gasp of amazement. He'd seen Zhirrzh cellular structure through microscopes before, certainly-there'd been whole classes devoted to such things back when he was in school. And certainly there'd been tremendous advances since then; as recently as a cyclic ago he'd seen a demonstration of an awesome new microscope that Warrior Command had commissioned from a group of searchers and technics. They'd hailed it at the time as a triumph of Zhirrzh ingenuity and expertise.

  This one left it in the dust.

  It was nothing short of astonishing. In the center of the display were a group offsss cells, sharper and clearer than he'd ever seen them. Superimposed on them were multicolored rings and curves and lines, with other multicolored symbols scattered around the edges. Some of the symbols had lines linking them to various parts of the cell, while others scrolled like words on a reader display. Even as he watched, one of the lines created a small square at its tip, the image inside the square magnifying to fill the display. One of the secondary nuclei, Prr't-zevisti tentatively identified it. More symbols, rings, and lines appeared. A hunbeat later another of the small squares formed, and the microscope zoomed in on a portion of the secondary nucleus's edge.

  A microscope and analysis machine both. Half the size of the best the Zhirrzh could come up with for a microscope alone.

  Slowly, Prr't-zevisti moved back from the Human female, a sense of stunned dread replacing his earlier astonishment. He'd heard the reports from theFar Searcher, had seen firsthand some of the bits and pieces of technology that had been scavenged from the wrecks of those Human warcraft. But aside from the recorder and a few parts of the Human prisoner's private spacecraft, it had all been damaged and nonworking. Odd arrangements of metal and unknown materials, more curiosities than anything else.

  They'd seen the results of Human technology. Now Prr't-zevisti was getting a look at the technology itself.

  He'd suspected the Zhirrzh were in trouble. He hadn't realized until now just how much trouble they were in.

  "Interest (something)," the Human female said. "A surprise (something) amount of (something) and (something) activity in the (something) cells. Far too much for something that's supposed (something) to be dead. I'm start (something) with the (something)."

  With an effort Prr't-zevisti pulled his thoughts away from the growing darkness of his fears. All right; so the Humans were formidable opponents. But, then, so were the Zhirrzh. Other alien races had tried throughout history to conquer or destroy them, and all had failed. The Humans would fail too.

  And everything he learned here would help toward that ultimate victory. Easing his face through the outer skin of Doctor-Cavan-a's back, ready to drop into the grayworld if she turned around, he continued his study of her alien body.

  12

  "There it is," the transport pilot said, gesturing ahead and to the right. "In that hollow, up against that big rock face. See it?"

  "Yes," Thrr-gilag said, peering down at the motley assortment of field shelters with a mixture of nostalgia and embarrassment. Nostalgia, because it looked just like the training expeditions they'd all gone on back when they'd been students. Embarrassment, because he hadn't realized until that beat just how much better than this he'd been faring lately. His Human-prisoner study group on Base World 12 had had top-mark laboratory and living facilities; even the archaeological expedition he'd been with on Study World 15 had had warrior-style perm buildings for their encampment. Clearly, funds for studying the Chig were distributed with a somewhat less lavish hand.

  "We're only going to be here about a tentharc," the pilot said as he circled around toward the more or less flat stretch of ground that seemed to serve as the expedition's landing field. "We weren't actually scheduled to make this supply run for another few fullarcs. You're welcome to fly back up to the encirclement warships with us when we leave."

  "I appreciate the offer," Thrr-gilag told him. He had no idea how he could possibly get through everything he wanted to discuss with Klnn-dawan-a in a single tentharc. But the pilot was right: it was indeed a long way back up to the encirclement warships orbiting overhead. "Let's see how things go, all right?"

  "Fine by me," the pilot shrugged. "H
ang on-this can get a little bumpy."

  Bumpy was hardly the word for it; but they made it without injuries and with no direct evidence of structural damage to the transport. Unstrapping stiffly, thankful that the study group's director had had the sense not to set up on the absolutetop of the mountain, at least, Thrr-gilag made his way back to the doorway and opened it.

  Three young Zhirrzh were waiting a short ways past the end of the landing ramp: typical eager-eyed student-searcher-assistant types, probably there to help the transport's crew unload the supplies. Thrr-gilag hardly noticed them. He certainly didn't give them any thought.

  Standing in front of them, at the foot of the ramp, was Klnn-dawan-a.

  "Hi," she breathed, favoring Thrr-gilag with one of those special smiles of hers as he walked down the ramp. "The Elders told me you were coming. I'm glad you're here."

  "So am I," Thrr-gilag said, hearing a sudden slight trembling in his voice. With all that had happened lately, he'd almost forgotten how much he'd missed her. "I'm afraid I can't stay very long, though," he added as he reached her.

  "I didn't expect you'd be able to," Klnn-dawan-a said regretfully as she looked up at him. "Still, even a little time is better than nothing."

  "Yes," Thrr-gilag said, his hands trembling a little as he took her hands and squeezed them tightly. The strictures of propriety, not to mention the presence of the student assistants standing there three strides away, forbade the kind of greeting he really wanted to give her. He hoped they'd be able to find some time alone before he left.

  Klnn-dawan-a, he could tell, was thinking along the same lines. "I was rather surprised to hear from the Elders that you were on your way down," she commented, taking his arm and turning them toward the encampment. "I'd assumed your work with the Overclan Seating would be taking all your time." She lowered her voice. "Especially with your group about to head out on a new expedition."

  Thrr-gilag frowned at her. He'd been under the distinct impression that the Mrachani mission was going to be kept a fairly close secret. "How in the eighteen worlds did you hear about that?"

  "Never underestimate the ingenuity of a trained searcher," Klnn-dawan-a said dryly. "As it happens, Director Prr-eddsi has had several long conversations back to Oaccanv in the past couple of fullarcs. Very serious, very secret-secure Warrior Command pathways and all that."

  "And you just happened to be sort of leaning up against the shelter wall at the time?"

  "Me?" Klnn-dawan-a asked with a good imitation of hurt pride. "I recoil at the very thought. No, Prr-eddsi brought me into the discussion at one point, and the wordMrachani came up. Then someone mentioned Nzz-oonaz's name, and the rest fell into place pretty quickly. Obvious, really-your people are certainly the current experts on everything regarding the Human-Conquerors and their territory."

  Thrr-gilag grimaced. Human-Conqueror. The term had even made it out here. "They're hardly my people anymore," he told Klnn-dawan-a. "I've been demoted."

  "I gathered as much," Klnn-dawan-a said quietly. "I'm sorry."

  "My own fault," Thrr-gilag told her. "Apparently, the rule is you kill prisoners rather than let them escape."

  She eyed him. "Do I detect a trace of bitterness?"

  "More strong indignation than bitterness," Thrr-gilag told her. "And mostly on your behalf, actually. Speaker Cvv-panav pressured the Overclan Prime into putting a Dhaa'rr in the group; and because he was mad at me, he picked Gll-borgiv instead of you."

  Klnn-dawan-a shrugged. "Gll-borgiv's not allthat bad."

  "He's still nowhere near as good as you."

  "I appreciate the vote of confidence," she said. "Still, I don't really think you should take the blame for my missed chance at glory."

  Thrr-gilag looked at the encampment ahead. At the predator fence, the shelters... and the white tip of the pyramid sticking up over them. That was something else they hadn't had on those training expeditions ten cyclics ago. Nofsss cuttings with anchored Elders there to act as communicators.

  Or to listen over your shoulder, whether you wanted them there or not. "Is there someplace where we can talk privately?" he asked Klnn-dawan-a.

  "I'm sure we can find one," she said, her tone faintly amused. "I thought you didn't have much time."

  "I'm not talking about that," Thrr-gilag said, feeling his tail speed up with both anticipation and a faint embarrassment. "I mean, not that I don't want to be close-but that's not what I meant. I meant talk. Really talk."

  "Oh," she said, frowning up at him. She followed his line of sight to the pyramid. "Well... sure. I've been wanting to check out some of the farms around the other side of the ridge, anyway. And that would give me a chance to show you what we're doing here. Let's go see if Prr-eddsi will let me take out one of the floaters."

  Ten hunbeats later they were in a floater, heading out from the encampment. Thrr-gilag waited until they were well outside the Elders' five-thoustride anchorline limit, and then told Klnn-dawan-a the bad news.

  She listened in silence. "You're sure about this?" she asked when he'd finished.

  "I don't know if you can ever be sure about Elder rumors," Thrr-gilag said, gazing out at the rocky Gree landscape flowing by beneath them. "All I know is that my father thought it was solid enough to warn me."

  "Yes," Klnn-dawan-a said, her face set in hard lines as she stared out through the windscreen. "I notice that no one bothered to tellme about any of this."

  "Maybe none of your Elders here have heard the rumors," Thrr-gilag suggested diplomatically.

  She threw him a scornful look. "Oh, come on, Thrr-gilag. You get a rumor started anywhere in the eighteen worlds, and every Elder's going to hear about it. You know that better than I do-you wrote your searcher thesis on it. Our Elders here know, all right. They've just decided not to tell me about it."

  Thrr-gilag shrugged uncomfortably. "I suppose you can hardly blame them. All your Elders here are Dhaa'rr, after all. They're probably less thrilled than even your leaders about having me in the clan."

  "Well, that's just plain stupid," Klnn-dawan-a said angrily. "Stupid and unfair. No one can possibly blame you for the Human-Conqueror attack on your base-everyone agrees they were out looking for your prisoner. And as for your brother, so he's using his communicators as sentries. So what? We use our Elders here for that sort of thing all the time."

  "Except that your pyramid's safely inside a predator fence," Thrr-gilag pointed out. "His aren't. Anyway, that's not really what they're mad at him about."

  "They can't blame him for Prr't-zevisti, either," she said firmly. "I know he was my clan and I should be sorry he's dead; but what happened to him was at least as much his own fault as it was Thrr-mezaz's. No one ordered him to stay with his cutting-he could have gone straight to his family shrine and stayed there."

  "Unless there's a link between the cutting and the mainfsss organ we don't know about," Thrr-gilag said doubtfully. "Maybe if you destroy afsss cutting, the Elder dies whether he's anchored there at the time or not."

  "No," Klnn-dawan-a said. "Don't forget, it took them at least thirty cyclics of trying before they figured out how to take successfulfsss cuttings. If the destruction of a cutting section killed the Elder outright, then every Elder whosefsss was experimented on back then would have died. They didn't."

  "You're right," Thrr-gilag said, a small fraction of the weight lifting from his shoulders. "I hadn't thought about that. Still, I doubt it's going to make much difference to the Dhaa'rr Elders."

  "No, of course not," Klnn-dawan-a bit out. "Prr't-zevisti's death is a convenient excuse for the clan leaders to back out of something they didn't want to allow in the first place." She sighed, some of the anger and toughness seeming to drain out of her. "Oh, Thrr-gilag. What are we going to do?"

  "We're not going to give up," Thrr-gilag told her. "That much is for sure. The only question is how to fight back."

  "Yes," Klnn-dawan-a murmured, her pupils narrowed with thought. Thrr-gilag gazed sideways at her, smiling despite th
e seriousness of the whole situation. A beat ago her anger and indignation had dissolved almost instantly into depression and the hint of defeat; and now that too had promptly changed again to determination. Many of her friends and colleagues, he knew, found this rapid mood processing of hers to be intimidating. Personally, he found it rather endearing. "All right," she said. "What have we got? The clan leaders have already given permission for our bonding, so to renege now is to break their word. That makes them look bad unless they can show really good reasons. So what we have to do is show that their reasons are totally inadequate."

  "We can point out how antiquated these prejudices are, too," Thrr-gilag suggested. "We've had open territorial borders for a hundred cyclics now-strictures on interclan bonding ought to be obsolete, too."

  "Right-let's toss in a little shame and embarrassment," Klnn-dawan-a agreed. "I just wish one of our families had more political leverage. We'd stand a better chance if we could get some of the other clans interested in this, even just as observers."