"You don't have to," Herringale called after him. "You can keep going and be subject to continued insult and innuendo later."
Herringale was not quite finished with the ambassador. Confronted beyond the doorway by a quartet of heavily armed and armored security personnel, the Pitar surprised them by drawing a weapon of unknown type from a hidden compartment within his left pants leg. It must have been a well-shielded compartment in order for the diplomat to have successfully blinded the security scanners that monitored all comings and goings to the inner chancellery. There was no need for a diplomat to carry a weapon, Herringale mused as he ducked down behind one of the chairs, unless the possessor had something to fear - or was particularly paranoid.
They never found out in Suin's case because, after wounding two of the guards, the Pitarian ambassador died in a blaze of gunfire as he attempted to flee the building. An offer to remand the remainder of his colleagues into protective custody was declined with disdain. Following the general broadcast of the Mallory record, as it came to be known, a mob stormed the building housing the Pitarian embassy in Zurich. Defending themselves, the Pitar killed several dozen people before the military could intervene. The aliens perished to the last.
Similar confrontations took place wherever Pitar could be found, from the supposedly inviolate compound on Bali to more isolated urban facilities in Brisbane, Delhi, and Lala. Within twenty-four hours of the worldwide broadcast of the unexpurgated recording, not a Pitar was left alive on Earth.
At the time, there were two Pitarian vessels in orbit. In attempting to flee, one was blown apart while the other managed to escape. It being impossible to track a ship in space-plus, the pursuing humans terminated the chase halfway between the moon and distant Mars.
All the while, warships and supply vessels were in the process of assembling - not only in the vicinity of Earth, but around its far-flung colonies as well. From Proycon to Cen-taurus, from New Riviera to Mantis, ships and personnel gathered. There was no singing of patriotic songs, no mass rallies of fervid supporters. It was all business, serious business, and was organized and conducted accordingly.
Some hoped that the Pitar would admit their crime and capitulate, following which suitable punishment and penalization could be decided upon. Others prayed that the aliens would resist. As the Twin Worlds of the Dominion did not lie that far from either the galactic plane or the expanding human sphere of influence, an answer to these questions was expected soon.
Once they had been informed of Pitarian responsibility for the Treetrunk atrocity, outrage was general among every other civilized species. It did not translate into action, however. The quarrel was between humankind and Pitar, and it would be left to those two civilizations to settle the matter. The Quillp, the Unop-Patha, and everyone else expressed their regret and sorrow and then stood back to see which species would prevail. In this regard the AAnn proffered their condolences as fervently as anyone else, while quietly hoping that both powerful space-going races would permanently and severely incapacitate one another in the coming conflict.
Among the thranx the reaction was one of subdued fury. Arising as they did from an ancient line that had succeeded partly by venerating a single egg-laying queen, they were especially sensitive to any violation of the reproductive system. What the Pitar had done to and with human females sent a ripple of rage through every hive. Even as the humans methodically assembled a vast force to attack the Twin Worlds, vexatious debate seethed among the thranx on how best to respond to the unimaginable barbarity.
"It does not involve us."
Sprawled atop a convenient log, Wirmbatusek regarded the lake. It was a small body of water surrounded by dense tropical forest, a refuge high in the mountains of Lombok. Nearby, Asperveden was waltzing with a birdwing butterfly, letting it flutter from one truhand to another. Perhaps the huge, iridescent green ornithop recognized a distant alien cousin. More likely it just found the thranx's chitinous digits a convenient place to rest.
"Of course it involves us."
Raising a truhand, Asperveden examined the exquisite creature. Compound eye met compound eye. Beautiful, the attache mused. What the butterfly felt was not recorded. Eventually it tired of the game and flew off, soaring up into the tall vine-draped hardwoods, a pair of thin emerald slabs throwing back the sun.
Wirmbatusek turned his head and antennae in the direction of his friend and coworker. "Keeping a constant watch on the AAnn is enough to worry about. Why would the Grand Council choose to weaken our own defenses to support a massive effort to punish a race that has done nothing to us?"
Exhibiting uncharacteristic daring, Asperveden walked forward until all four trulegs were in the water. Astonished at his own boldness, he stood and watched as the tepid, algae-stained green liquid swirled gently around his limbs. Where he was standing the lake was perhaps ten centimeters deep.
Wirmbatusek's antennae twitched nervously. "Are you insane? Get out of there! Suppose the soil is soft and you begin to sink? Don't expect me to pull you out."
The slightly smaller thranx gestured for his companion to be calm. "Have no fear. The surface underfoot is firm and unyielding. These Pitar have violated every accepted norm of civilized behavior."
"No one disputes that." Wirmbatusek watched a line of ants marching along the base of the log. To a single ant, the insectoid thranx might well have been a vision of God. "No one disagrees with the humans' urge to seek revenge. We would doubtless react similarly, albeit less noisily, if the barbarity had been visited upon us. But it was not. What happened on Argus Five does not concern us."
"Why not? Because only mammals died? Because only human females were dishonored?"
"It is too facile to say that we should help the humans." Sliding off the log, Wirmbatusek settled himself on his trulegs. Using all four hands he daintily picked bits of bark and other debris from his gleaming blue-green exoskeleton and the thorax pouch that hung from his second major body segment. "First, they have not asked us, or any other species, for assistance. Next, it is not incumbent on the thranx to aid them because there is no treaty or agreement between our two races particularizing any such action. There are no reasons for us to become involved and many why we should keep our distance. For one thing, like so much else about them the martial capability of these Pitar is unknown. We could end up having allied ourselves with the losing side." He flicked a fallen leaf from his abdomen.
"I would not bet against the humans in a war." Finally starting to grow uneasy at the feel of water lapping around his legs, Asperveden carefully backed out of the shallows.
"Nor would I, but neither would I choose to gamble with the neutrality that preserves our civilization unscathed. War is not a lark, and gambling on it not entertainment."
One foot at a time, Asperveden shook water from his impermeable chitin. "The estimable Desvendapur would have much to say about this situation."
"No doubt, if he was living. I wish I could have seen him perform. To my knowledge none of his poetry dealt with war, despite the gravity of his clan and family history." The larger thranx followed a pair of hornbills as they glided across the lake. "What makes you think the humans would accept our help even if it were to be offered? A great many of them despise us and cannot even stand to be in our presence. Those of us here and at the Amazon hive are isolated from such individual conflicts."
"I realize that our relations are still developing." Feeling the first pangs of morning hunger, Asperveden began to remove food from his own pouch. "I am not naive. Much work remains to be done to bring our two peoples together to the point where trust is accepted instead of debated, and genuine friendship is not an isolated occurrence." Biting into a starch loaf with all four opposing jaws, he chewed reflectively. "This conflict would be a perfect opportunity to do just that."
Approaching his friend, Wirmbatusek waited to be offered food, withholding his own offering until the smaller thranx made the appropriate gesture. "More than strategic concerns are involved in thi
s. As many thranx are suspicious of the humans as they are of us. It is hard enough to arrange for meetings, for cultural exchanges, for agreements on minor matters. An alliance that includes provisions for mutual defense lies far in the future."
"It need not require a formal association." Asperveden executed the appropriate hand gestures, following which his friend responded in kind. They exchanged food. "The arrangement could be temporary, and understood as such by both sides. Assistance in time of and solely for the duration of conflict, superseding all current agreements, after which the previous status is resumed."
Wirmbatusek considered. "I am envisioning several fully armed hive warships emerging from space-plus at safe distance beyond the orbit of this world's moon. I am envisioning the human reaction. I am not sanguine about what 1 am seeing."
"Hive ships need not enter this system. A mutual rendezvous point elsewhere could be agreed upon." Asperveden refused to acknowledge the impossibility of his hypothetical proposal. "The humans would be grateful. It would advance our relationship and improve our mutual prospects immeasurably."
Swallowing, Wirmbatusek began to hunt in his pouch for the spiral-spouted drink bottle. "If we are victorious. If the Pitar should win, we would have acquired their enmity for nothing."
"Not true," Asperveden argued. "We would still have gained the gratitude of the humans."
"Would we?" Slipping the decorated drinking tube between his jaws, the larger worker began to sip sugary, nutritious liquid. "You ascribe to humans a quality of gratefulness I have yet to see demonstrated." He passed the bottle over. "First I would like to see one invite me into its home without an expression of disgust on its face. Then I might consider rendering it some assistance. If we remain neutral we are detached in the eyes of Pitar and human alike. We risk nothing. That is what the Quillp, and the Unop-Patha, and even the AAnn are doing. Why should we do any differently?"
Asperveden contemplated the tranquil lake, the intriguingly different indigenous wildlife, the warm, clear, morning air, and felt himself troubled. "I do not know. Perhaps because we are better than they?"
Wirmbatusek chose to comment via a sequence of circumspect clicks. "Anything else?"
"Nothing that could be construed as conclusive. Only that, unlike many who count themselves true progeny of the First Queen, I happen to like humans."
"So do I," Wirmbatusek confessed freely. "But that does not mean I am ready to march out of the hive to sacrifice limb and life alongside them."
Chapter 18
The armada was unlike anything that humankind, or for that matter any of the other species that happened to dwell in that same portion of the Arm, had seen before. Less what was necessary to protect and defend Earth and its other colonies, every armed vessel propelled by a KK-drive was assigned a position and time to rendezvous on the outskirts of the Dominion. It was believed that the Pitar would meet them there, somewhere in the vicinity of their system's twelfth and outermost world. It was also conceded that Pitarian vessels ranging far and wide would at least make an attempt to assault one or more of the human populated worlds, if only to divert attention from their own.
Neither threat materialized. Human strategists were perplexed. The xenologists who had studied the Pitar were not.
Levi was one of those who was not. Others like him had been assigned to the armada, one to a ship so that in the event of catastrophe all the members of his group and the valuable knowledge they represented could not be lost in a single blow. If not the fleetest of mind or the most experienced member of the team that had studied the Pitar since first contact, he was acknowledged the senior member of the group. His opinion was solicited and respected. He found himself on the Wellington, seconded to the general staff.
It was subsequent to a meeting where the plan of first attack was being finalized that he found himself, thoroughly preoccupied with the critical matters at hand, strolling aimlessly through the great ship. As big as anything mobile that mankind had yet put in space, the Wellington was an impressive achievement. Four rings of armaments located in evenly spaced weapons blisters girdled the main body of the dreadnought. The KK-drive generating fan that spread out before it and pulled it through space-plus was the size of a small town. Between fan, hydrogen spark plug, and the main body of the ship were five defensive-screen generators. No more powerful or fearsome ship cruised the cosmos. It was a supreme example of contemporary human technology, an other-than-light vessel representing a confluence of all that human civilization had thus far accomplished.
That it was designed expressly to blow things up placed it squarely in the mainstream of human technological achievement.
Meyer Levi was a civilian attached to a military expedition. He was an old man who ought to have been reclining in a soft chair in a library, fronted by a tridee screen and surrounded by real books, a hot drink steaming on a nearby table, and a rumpled dog lying at his feet. Instead he found himself inconceivably far from home and anything akin to such imaginary comforts.
Despite the absence on the system's outer fringes of any armed confrontation, no one believed that the Pitar were simply going to allow the invading humans to put punishing landing parties down on the surface of the Twin Worlds unopposed. The timing and manner of their resistance was yet to be determined. But one by one, the warships of Earth and its colonies had emerged from space-plus into Pitarian space, uncontested and unchallenged. Now fully assembled in normal space, the armada was ready to take the next step of moving toward the system's sun and positioning itself around the Twin Worlds.
Nor had the Pitar sent ships to attack Earth itself or any of its more lightly defended colonies. There had been no reaction at all from the tall, elegant humanoids. Their representatives on Earth and elsewhere had died fighting, refusing to suffer imprisonment. All remaining Pitar, the entire population, was on their two homeworlds, presumably cognizant of and awaiting the arrival of a vast assemblage of ships crewed by tens of thousands of angry, revenge-minded humans.
What were they overlooking? Levi found himself wondering. Surely the Pitar were going to resist, were not going to commit racial suicide. But that was essentially what their isolated representatives on Earth had done. Did the entire species have a death wish that humankind had been put in the position of inadvertently satisfying?
The armada was in motion, a great swath of ships and science, when the answer came to him. Rushing as fast as his aged legs would carry him, he hurried toward the bridge. In the vastness of the great ship he lost his way several times, despite the instructions available to him in each lift.
When he finally succeeded in finding his way to the central, shielded core of the Wellington, he had to identify himself several times before he could gain access to Fouad. She was seated in the captain's command chair, in charge of the ship but not the strategy it would execute. That was the province of the group of general officers seated off to one side, facing one another across a wide, oval table from which projected upward a perfect three-dimensional portrait of the Pitarian system. A cloud of glowing pinpoints was moving toward the sun at its center, each pinpoint a ship. Levi was put in mind of midges attacking a dog.
"Hello, Mr. Levi." Her musician's hands rested on controls; her trained soprano voice commanded more destructive power than humankind had ignorantly unleashed upon itself since the beginning of its struggling civilization. "Feeling well?"
"Tired," he told her. "Tired, and worried."
"We're all worried," she replied. Before her hovered a tridimensional image similar to the one being closely scrutinized by the general staff, only somewhat reduced in scale. "Everyone is waiting for something to happen."
"What will you do if the Pitar do not respond?" Fascinated as always by technology he did not understand, Levi stared at the perfect, hovering representation of the space in which the ship was moving.
"Place ourselves in orbit around the first of the Twin Worlds.
Deliver the ultimatum drawn up by the world council." She sh
rugged without smiling. "React to their reaction. If they continue to do nothing, the first landing parties will go down. These will be backed by heavy armor and orbital firepower. Once our forces have acquired a beachhead on the surface the choices remaining to the Pitar will be considerably reduced. Basically, they'll have to decide whether to opt for capitulation or seppuku. After securing the outer of the Twin Worlds, the armada will move on to the second and hopefully repeat the process."
Levi nodded. "What happens if they do submit without a fight?"
Fouad looked at him closely. "Is that what you think is going to happen?"
"No, but at this point the possibility cannot be entirely discounted."
She turned away from him, back to the glowing, in-depth representation. "That's not my department. I'll do what the general staff tells me to do. They in turn have their orders from the world council. All I know is that there's a predetermined sequence of actions whose degree of reaction is calibrated according to how the Pitar respond." Her jawline firmed. "To one extent or another, they are to be punished for what they did on Treetrunk."
"You asked me what I thought was going to happen." Levi watched her expectantly.
The captain's interest was piqued. "You have an idea?"
"I think so. You know, among the original Twelve Tribes the Levites were the scholars. I do not feel like I belong here, on a warship, preparing to engage in mass destruction."
"Your unhappiness is noted," she replied curtly. "Tell me what you think."
"I've studied the Pitar ever since they first arrived on Earth aboard the Chagos"
"I know that." Her tone was impatient. "Get to the point, old man. In case you haven't noticed, there's an invasion in progress."
"Sorry. There are a number of ways I could put it scientifically, but I see no need to couch an opinion in complex systematic jargon. Suffice to say that the Pitar are homebodies."
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