Dirge

by Foster, Alan Dean;

  "Who says the AAnn fear the humans?" a voice shouted from the other side. "What makes you think the scaled people factor the mammals into their equations?"

  "Because while the AAnn may be malicious and rapacious, they are not stupid." This time it was supportive stridulations that rose in volume from the other side of the table.

  The racing noise receded as Debreljinav prefigured her speech with an appropriate gesture. "Do the humans truly hate us so much that they would even refuse our help?"

  A representative of one of the technical classifications rose. He was not an eint and was present, along with a number of others, because he possessed the ability to contribute special insight into specific aspects of the debate.

  "Only a small number of xenophobes and fanatics among the bipeds actually hate us. Among the rest there are many who openly enjoy our company and are not afraid to say so." Compound eyes swept the attentive chamber. "The vast majority of humans belong to neither grouping. This mass remains unsure of us and our motives."

  "Ingrates!" a leader of the opposition bellowed. There was discord until the Tri-Eint Sevrepesut could restore order and return dominance to the patient female standing off to his left.

  Intimidated, the specialist waited for Debreljinav's gesture of encouragement to respond to the interruptive expletive. "Humans have short memories but -"

  "Fine candidates for allies in time of trouble!" another representative of the skeptical shouted.

  "But they are capable of grand kindnesses and gratitude. I believe that those who advocate intercession are correct. In so doing we would gain valuable allies against the AAnn, and against any others who might one day threaten the great hive." Whistles of derision and rising stridulation threatened to drown him out, but this time the specialist would not be denied.

  "The AAnn Empire is strong and growing more powerful by the day! If we will not aid the humans in their just fight against the Pitar to make them our allies, then we must aid them so that the AAnn cannot. Or is that a possibility that the distinguished eints prefer not to ponder?"

  The reaction from supporters of intervention as well as those of the opposition showed that it was a notion that had not been much discussed. Everyone hoped that in an ideal cosmos the humans would ally themselves with the thranx against the AAnn. Few cared to contemplate the consequences should the aggressive, militaristically accomplished mammals choose to take the side of the predacious reptilians instead.

  "The humans would never support the AAnn in a disagreement with us." The eint who ventured this observation did not sound very convincing even to herself.

  "Why not?" a supporter of intervention countered. "One of your own has just pointed out how much they dislike us."

  "We must make them like us." Debreljinav's declaration carried the full force and weight of her considerable personality. "We cannot afford it to be otherwise."

  "It will not be any easy task." The Eint Jouteszimfeq was anything but encouraging as he looked around the circle. "I have tried to study everything there is to be known about the humans. Individually they are sound, but their mass psychology is unstable. Small, insignificant things can induce vast swings in their collective consciousness. Worse, these critical effectives can in themselves be meaningless and unsupported. But by the time realization sets in, the damage has already been done." His antennae parted to sense the greatest possible number of his fellow debaters.

  "We must move actively to prevent this from happening. Although it does not sound in and of itself especially scientific, making the humans 'like' us should be among our very first priorities. Simultaneously, we must endeavor to deal with those thranx who have difficulty tolerating the sight, sound, and presence of humans."

  "Don't you mean the smell?" someone who wished not to be identified interjected. General whistling followed, eventually to be suppressed by Debreljinav's four-armed gesturing.

  "I myself am rather more concerned with the eventual disposition of human muscle than their scent." Respectful quiet again filled the chamber. "If we cannot induce the humans to become our allies, then we must strive to make them our friends. Since we can do nothing about our shape and ancestry, which is what appears to constitute the principal basis of human dislike for us, we must find other ways of convincing them that we are worthy of their trust." Antennae spread and at the ready, she gazed around the chamber. "As a tri-eint among you, I am open to suggestions."

  There were almost as many positive suggestions as there were opposing views. Unlike in ancient times, those in the minority did not suffer to have assorted limbs amputated as a consequence of losing an argument. In place of jaws and teeth and primitive weapons, only sharp words were employed. In many instances, these cut deeply enough.

  Field Marshal MacCunn was conversing with Admiral Yirghiz when a comtech interrupted them. Yirghiz accepted the missive, perused it briefly, and then passed it on to MacCunn. The field marshal's face featured the protuberant, bony brows of a very early Cro-Magnon. It saddled him with an unfortunate countenance that was the source of many jokes among those within his command. Having risen from the ranks himself, he was delighted to so painlessly be of service to his troops.

  "What's this about an alien task force entering Pitarian space?"

  Yirghiz rose as general quarters sounded. "I haven't a clue, Hamish - but I have a feeling we're about to find out. I only hope that it's neutral, or if not, that it isn't materializing in response to a coordinated effort with the Pitar."

  The bandy-legged MacCunn had to employ a longer stride to keep pace with the lanky admiral. "That would imply some sort of offensive gesture on the part of the Pitar, something totally out of character for them."

  "I concur." Yirghiz nodded sharply. "Which doesn't mean we can afford to take the possibility lightly. Hence the automatic call to general quarters."

  Long before the two senior officers reached the bridge at the center of the Tamerlane, the great warship and the rest of the blockading fleet on this side of the Dominion's sun were on full battle alert, ready to extend a polite, formal welcome to the as yet unrecognized newcomers, or to blow them out of the firmament, as the occasion demanded.

  MacCunn took up his position alongside the admiral. Yirghiz was barking orders before his backside contacted the contoured command chair. "Incoming - identification!"

  Captain Coulis was ready with a response. "Not ours. Not Pitar." A generally subdued murmur of relief sighed its way around the bridge at this announcement. "Thranx."

  Both senior officers frowned. Their confusion had plenty of company among the rest of the bridge complement. "What are the bugs doing here?" MacCunn wondered aloud. "And with a task force, albeit a small one." He glanced in the captain's direction. "It is a small one?"

  Coulis was studying a fully dimensional tridee replete with brightly hued embedded analyses. "One dreadnought. Not Wellington-class, taking into account that thranx design differs from ours. Nothing else appears to be bigger than destroyer-class. No cruisers, no smaller escorting craft."

  "Odd configuration." Yirghiz frowned. "Too weak to participate in a serious fight, much more impressive than is required for a social call." He raised his voice as he again addressed Coulis. "Hail them, Captain, and find out what they're doing here. They're aware of the quarantine. See if you can find out what they want."

  "Initial intership communications protocol is already being delimited, sir," the captain replied. At the moment her eyes were as busy as her fingers.

  Answer and explanation arrived simultaneously mere moments later. Coulis swiveled around in her seat to address the two senior officers. Her expression effectively communicated her confusion.

  "The vessels are indeed thranx, gentlemen. They are carrying a representative of the Grand Council of the Great Hive." Her gaze traveled from one senior officer to the other. "It wants to come aboard."

  This was not the sort of decision either of the two men had expected to have to make when they had arisen at the start of the
current shift. Yirghiz responded while MacCunn eloquently said nothing.

  "This is your ship, Captain. Not being a strategic judgment, the decision whether or not to receive visitors is entirely yours."

  "I'm a starship captain," Coulis replied. "This is a matter for diplomats."

  Now MacCunn spoke up. "Not when a vessel is on combat station. No, it's your call, Captain."

  Coulis rubbed at an uncooperative eyebrow. "No ship of the armada has seen any action for several weeks now. The next tactics are still in the process of being schematized. I see no reason to refuse such a request from a neutral power." She smiled laconically. "If it's secrets of military technology the thranx are after there are far easier ways to steal them."

  "I've never met a thranx. Walked around tridee holos, but never encountered one in the flesh." Yirghiz was curious. "Let's see what they want here."

  MacCunn grunted softly. "To try and ascertain who's winning, I would imagine. If that's the case, they'll need to use their imaginations."

  Both men and everyone else on the Tamerlane and within the armada who obtained a good look at the thranx craft were suitably impressed. The KK-drive type vessels were sleek and well fitted out, their design and construction bespeaking a technology as advanced as anything humankind could devise. Nor just because the alien dreadnought massed almost as much as the Wellington or the Tamerlane could it be assumed that it was the most powerful ship in the thranx arsenal.

  Insisting that any formalities be kept to a minimum, the insectoid emissary transferred to one of the flagship's locks via a small shuttle. There was some confusion resulting in a delay in the visitor being welcomed when it was discovered that he had a personal escort, but the matter was quickly resolved without rancor. As Coulis pointed out, it was natural to expect so high ranking an individual of any species to be accompanied by attendants. It was explained by the thranx that the emissary's two escorts were necessary to look after her health and not her security, and those on board the flagship could well believe it as soon as that worthy was helped from the shuttle's lock.

  The thranx was very old. One of her ovipositors had been surgically removed, the consequence of a disease that was not mentioned. The other double-curled egg-laying appendage had lost so much of its natural spring that it lay nearly flat against her back. Instead of the familiar smooth blue-green, her exoskeleton was a rich, deep purple, the chitin worn rough and pebbly in places. The golden compound eyes did not shine as brightly as did those of her solicitous escorts, but the antennae were ever-moving and alert. The characteristically soft thranx voice was strong, spilling words and clicks and whistles without vacillation.

  MacCunn and Yirghiz met her with translator in tow. That individual's presence was not required. The emissary spoke very good Terranglo. For his part, Yirghiz looked forward to trying out his stock of memorized Thranx phrases. He was terrible at grammar and could not figure out how to properly integrate the requisite gestures into the conversation, but he was a good whistler and an excellent mimic. Becoming truly fluent in the combination of Terranglo words and Thranx expressions that was evolving into a kind of mutual patois among the young of both species was beyond an old soldier like himself, but he had felt bound to try. He had also memorized a cache of stock AAnn phrases and could manage brief declarations in the single Pitar dialect. By contrast, the field marshal was a linguistic mute. But then, Yirghiz reminded himself with a hidden smile, MacCunn wasn't much of a conversationalist in his own tongue.

  "Welcome aboard." Stepping forward, the admiral introduced himself and the field marshal before extending a hand palm down, fingers slightly spread and inclined upward. The elderly alien's antennae dipped forward to brush his fingertips.

  "I am the Di-Eint Haajujurprox. From the Great Hive I bring you greetings and the taste of friendship."

  "We are pleased to receive you." A delighted Yirghiz waved off the translator who was standing by, a young woman who was plainly relieved that her skills apparently would not be necessary. The bug's Terranglo was mellifluous and only slightly inflected. The insectoids had a much easier time with the simpler human tongue than humans did with the complex combination of words, clicks, whistles, and gestures that constituted High Thranx.

  Alongside him, he observed MacCunn striving to appear inconspicuous as he inhaled repeatedly of the air in the lock. In the vicinity of the three thranx it had become suffused with the aromatic essence of a complex perfume. In respect of scent, age had not dimmed the emissary's personal bouquet.

  "Won't you please walk with us?" Turning, Yirghiz led the way.

  As they strolled toward the lift that would take them to a comfortable and private room he noted that unlike the images of thranx he had seen, the emissary never rose up on her four trulegs. She required the use of all six to ambulate adequately. Though wondering how old, in human terms, the visitor might be, he was too polite to ask. Among the thranx such a question might be regarded as normal and natural, or it might be considered intrusive. He did not know. Regardless, it had nothing to do with conventional diplomacy. But he was still curious.

  They made small talk until they arrived at the senior officer's lounge. This was cleared, and the diplomatic party made itself comfortable. While the di-eint settled herself onto a makeshift couch of cushions placed end to end on the floor, her escorts remained standing. So did the four armed soldiers who had escorted MacCunn and Yirghiz. While their superiors conversed, the common soldiers eyed one another with unfettered interest.

  "This is no place for a casual call," MacCunn began without further preamble. "Your government is aware of the quarantine that we have placed around the inhabited worlds of this system, and the conflict that is ongoing here." He started to cough and reached for a glass of water. When he had recovered sufficiently, he continued.

  "We know that your ships are not simply 'passing through.' No one travels through space-plus without a definite destination in mind. So I think - we think - that it's safe to assume you came here to speak with us." He gestured absently, wishing he had Yirghiz's command of alien gesticulation. "We have to ask, Why here, when all previous diplomatic contact has taken place between your representatives and ours on Earth or Hivehom?"

  "It was decided," the elderly di-eint replied evenly, "that since the matter to be discussed most directly involved the unfortunate situation here, it would be best to communicate directly with those of your kind who are most intimately involved." Her antennae dipped sharply forward. Somewhat startled, MacCunn drew back slightly. Yirghiz did not move.

  "You know that we are outraged at what the Pitar did to your colony of Treetrunk. As sentient beings, their actions there horrified every hive. Ever since, there has been much discussion among my kind as to whether it would be appropriate for us to make our displeasure known in a more proac- tive fashion." Her finely shaped head continually shifted from one human to the other, even though the exceptional peripheral vision provided by her compound eyes meant that she could survey nearly the entire room without moving it at all. The cranial posturing was to assure the two senior humans that she was indeed focusing her attention on them.

  Glancing in MacCunn's direction, Yirghiz saw no enlightenment there. Perhaps the field marshal was preoccupied with his persistent bowel problems, the admiral mused. That was not the case. MacCunn simply had nothing to say and was content to let his colleague take the lead in composing their response. It did not mean he was not paying attention.

  "Could you be more specific as to what you mean when you say 'more proactive'?"

  "I have come here on behalf of the Great Hive authorized to propose a formal military alliance between our peoples. We want to help you in your fight against these Pitar," the di-eint stated.

  This time MacCunn was quick to respond. "Why?" he asked curtly. "So you were outraged by what they did on Treetrunk. All intelligent species were outraged. Only you are offering to help. Outrage is by itself an insufficient reason for actively engaging in interstellar warfare."<
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  "Is it?" Many-lensed eyes shifted to face the field marshal. When he did not respond, the di-eint gestured acknowledgment. "Very well. It is as you say. There are other reasons. While a large faction finds the outrage sufficient for us to respond, they are not a majority. It was necessary to build an adequate consensus, corollary by corollary." She shifted her awkward position on the queue of cushions.

  "As you know, we have been locked in an ongoing battle with the Empire of the AAnn since before your kind encountered ours. The AAnn are a devious, ruthless, expansionist race."

  "We've had no trouble with the AAnn," Yirghiz felt compelled to point out.

  "The AAnn are also very patient. They are evaluating your resources." The elderly alien leaned toward them. "They are especially interested in the present conflict. While they are too clever to aid the Pitar directly, they are delighted to watch them deplete your resources."

  MacCunn frowned. "Why should they care who wins? As you say, they are completely neutral."

  "On the face of it, they are. But the Pitar have nothing the AAnn want and pose no threat to their strategies. The Pitar are not colonizers. Humans are, very much so. As are the AAnn. As both spheres of influence continue to expand, they will inevitably begin to overlap. There will come a time when tenancy of a new world falls into dispute. If the Pitar succeed in severely weakening you, or are still tying down a large portion of your military strength, the AAnn will not hesitate to take advantage of the situation that results."

  The field marshal was nodding slowly. This was an explanation he had heard before and could understand. "So by helping us against the Pitar you hope to ensure that our strength is not diminished, and that it will be available as a counterweight to future AAnn expansion."

  She did not nod. Adoption of human gestures was a habitude for the young. But she did indicate her acknowledgment. "We also expect this alliance to operate in the opposite direction."