"But why sspeak of unpleassantnesses that will not happen? Will you at leasst, in the sspirit of fairness, impart ssome value to my wordss?"
She ought to order him out, she knew - if only to test the veracity of his promise. She ought to make a break for the door, or shout aloud the personal lodging code she had been given at check-in. The room's sensors would pick it up, relay it to the appropriate station, and Security would arrive on the run. That she did not do this spoke more for an innate sense of tolerance than for any feeling that this emissary or any other could convince her to change her opinion of the thranx or the AAnn.
"All right. In the interests of impartiality, I promise to consider what you've said. And as long as you're here uninvited, why don't you tell me what else the emperor's manifold cheerful subjects want from me?"
Either Preed did not detect her sarcasm, or else he tactfully chose to ignore it. With an AAnn, it was always difficult to tell. She really did not expect the envoy to reply at length, much less to provide specifics.
"All the People of the Ssand wissh from humankind and itss coloniess iss a certain degree of resspect."
Professional interest was beginning to supplement, although it could not entirely replace, her initial fear. "You enjoy full diplomatic relations with us. The Empire is treated on an equal basis with the two other major interstellar powers we know: the thranx and the Quillp."
"Truly." Preed gestured acknowledgment. "Yet sstill we feel our petitioningss diminisshed in the ssight of the bugss. We are concerned, and have been from the time of firsst contactss, that your government continuess to favor them above uss."
For that complaint she had a ready rejoinder. "First of all, you're wrong. My government, and the average citizen of Earth and its colonies, does not prefer the thranx to the AAnn. Indeed, among many of my kind, the reverse is true. This despite the invaluable aid the thranx rendered to us in the Pitarian War." Slitted eyes blinked back at her, the double lids adding an oddly feminine fluttering to the action. "You are accorded equal treatment, both formally and otherwise."
One clawed hand described an intricate succession of curves in the air. She noted that the envoy was wearing no special supplemental attire. The air-conditioning that kept the muggy Hivehom night at bay must be chilling him to the bone. This realization did not upset her. Though she could have done so, she made no move to adjust the temperature.
"Why then have our propossalss to esstablissh reciprocal ssettlementss in your Ssonoran and Ssaharan desertss been refussed? You grant thiss intimate privilege to the thranx but deny it to uss."
"Truly," she told him, utilizing the soft AAnn word, "I don't know. Personally, it strikes me as unfair, and contrary to the spirit of the treaties that exist between our two peoples. But that is only my opinion. As a minor diplomat assigned to this world, I have no voice in the making of policy."
"But you would perssonally ssupport ssuch an exchange?" For a moment, his interest struck her as going beyond the professional. Here was a matter in which the AAnn envoy took a specific interest.
"Of course," she lied facilely. "Why not? The regions you refer to are to this day little utilized or visited. Why shouldn't the AAnn have the same rights of reciprocal settlement as the thranx?"
His tail switched from side to side. "It sshortenss my journey to hear you ssay that." Had he believed her? She couldn't tell. "Truly, if only your people would recognize what to uss is sso blatantly obviouss. That we have far more in common with one another, both in sshape and attitude, than your kind ever could with thesse pesstilential bugss. That we sshare sso very many ultimate aimss and interessts. That a closser alliance between our peopless would permit the resultant political force to permanently dominate this one modesst portion of the cossmoss, to our mutual benefit. Perhapss, with time, thiss may come to pass."
"Perhaps," she responded noncommittally. It was not a lie. Who knew what the future would bring? No one could predict the course of interstellar relations. The way contact between humankind and the thranx had developed - accidentally, unpredictably, and in defiance of careful diplomatic procedures - had already proven as much. That she intended to do everything in her power to prevent the scenario Preed had just laid before her from ever coming to fruition was something she kept wholly to herself.
His unannounced nocturnal visit only served to confirm everything she already knew or had ever heard about the AAnn. They were sly and cunning, skilled sycophants, adept students of other cultures. All of which made perfect sense. One did not have to be a professional diplomat to realize that if one species wished to dominate another, learning everything there was to know about one's quarry was a prerequisite for ultimate success.
The AAnn were devoted scholars of other cultures. She had no doubt that Preed was well versed in the fragmented, frequently unseemly history of humankind. Like others of his kind, he would employ that learning to exploit any discernible divisions within human government and society to the eventual benefit of the People of the Sand. She did not condemn him for this. It was his job as well as his nature. Feint and retreat, test and examine: That was how Haflunormet and the other thranx diplomats she had spent time with had told her the AAnn operated. That was the AAnn way. Avoid far-reaching, open confrontation. Poke and probe and wait for the victim to bleed to death.
That was not going to happen to humankind, she knew. Any chance of that, any naIuml;veteacute; on the scale of interstellar relations, had vanished in the macabre upheaval of the Pitarian War. What might have happened had her kind first encountered the subtle, duplicitous AAnn and not the Pitar, she did not know. The most dangerous, the most ominous explosives did not always produce large, easily visible fireballs in space.
He was playing to her, ever the urbane and accomplished diplomat despite his rather fearsome appearance. Gazing back at him, she did indeed see a being much closer to her in appearance than any thranx. Only when one looked deeper did one begin to discern the insidious nature and intent that lurked beneath every AAnn and that, insofar as she had been able to discover, was absent among the thranx. What was it the ancient writer Melville had written? "Better to sleep with a sober cannibal than a drunken Christian." In the context of future relations, of humankind's ultimate destiny, she had become convinced some time ago that the interests of her kind would be far better served by lying down with oversized, aromatic insectoids than upright, sharp-toothed reptiloids. If there was one lesson her people should have learned since venturing into deep space and making contact with other intelligent species, it was that physical appearance counted for nothing.
But all too many of her kith and kin had not yet mastered that lesson. Hence the continued need for diplomats, for subterfuges, and for the kinds of lies she was all too often forced to live.
"I wonder," he murmured, interrupting her thoughts. "I wonder truly how much of what you have jusst told me you believe, and how much you have sscribed for my benefit. Equivocation and invention iss, after all, your vocation."
"As it is yours - truly." She met his stare unwaveringly. Let him accuse her of lying if he wished. He could prove nothing. Her only real fear was that, having tracked her down with such apparent ease, he might somehow also have become aware of the meeting she was due to have tomorrow with Haflunormet and their arriving friend. Though he had given no indication of cognizance, she knew the possibility would trouble her until the meeting was concluded.
Concentrate on the moment, she told herself. One small galactic step at a time. For right now, it would be enough to get him out of her room.
"We undersstand one another, then." Gesticulating gracefully with both hands, he tilted his head down and slightly to one side. "As before, I sstand in admiration of your sskillss, and can only hope that all you have told me arisses from the inner depthss of your true sself." Straightening, he approached until he was standing closer to her than formal diplomatic protocol required. She held her ground. Easier to do in the room than elsewhere, she reflected nervously, since there
was a wall not far behind her and she could not retreat anyway.
His bright yellow eyes with their vertical pupils peered down into her own. He was of average height and build for an AAnn, slightly taller than she but not proportionally as massive as a comparable human male. But there were those teeth, bequeathed from a wholly carnivorous ancestry, and those hooked, knifelike claws.
Reaching up, he let the sharp, pointed tip of one talon graze her right cheek. His hissing voice was a singular whisper. "Sso profoundly, abssurdly pliant. It is a curiossity to uss how your sspeciess ssurvived ssuch fragile integumentss long enough to develop intelligence. Truly, the universse iss full of wonderss." To her considerable relief, he let the clawed hand drop, holding it in front of his chest parallel to the other in the familiar resting position of his kind.
"I hope we can meet and talk like thiss again. I have already sspoken of you to otherss of like mind. Their interesst matchess mine."
"I have no objection to meeting with or talking to anyone," she admitted truthfully. "Provided that next time, certain minimal courtesies are observed."
He acknowledged her outrage without argument as he backed toward the door. "Truly. Until then, I wissh you, Fanielle Anjou of Earth and not of Hivehom, ssafe sstriding and ssmooth ssurfacess under your feet." As the door responded to the shrouded covert electronics that had gained him entrance, he added, "And may your pending offsspring emerge into the world sslick of sscale and free of blemissh."
He was out the door and gone before she could ask him how he knew of her pregnancy. But of course, she realized when he had left, he could have found that out from the garrulous Sertoa, or many others at Azerick Station. One hand dropped unconsciously to her upper belly as she saw the door shut. She resecured it as best she could. To her surprise, she found that her heart was racing and her lungs were pounding against her chest. All the tension, all the pent-up anxiety engendered by the AAnn's unexpected appearance, now raced to the fore.
Stumbling into the bathroom, she rummaged through her gear until she found the bottle she wanted. One - no, two - of the pills accompanied by hastily gulped water slid down her throat. Leaning back against the glassy wall, she wondered if she ought to change rooms. That would not be easy to do. Not in the middle of the night, on a thranx world, in an establishment dedicated to providing adequate accommodation not only to visiting humans but to representatives of many other species who frequently had very different lodging requirements. Besides, if Preed could gain entry to one room, there was no reason to assume entering another would present him with any insurmountable obstacles.
In the end she settled for the bath that had been her initial goal. After a while she managed to stop glancing in the direction of the outer room and the doorway beyond. She needed to be rested and alert for the meeting tomorrow. Haflunormet would want to know all about the intrusion, of course. Steps could be taken to prevent a recurrence.
Raising a hand, she touched her cheek where the diplomat's claw had lightly depressed the flesh. Did rather well at that moment, she complimented herself. No shuddering, no trembling. Toroni and the rest of her colleagues would have been proud of her, standing up to a carnivorous AAnn like that, alone and unarmed. She smiled hesitantly, relishing once more the memory of the small triumph.
Then it all hit her at once, and she finally began to shake.
14
"Don't tell me - it is not possible." The short, dark human was gazing at the two padres with eyes that were a little too wide and muscles that were taut to the point of twitching. His chest had begun to heave. "It is not bad enough to see untainted humans congregating in this place and mixing together with filthy bugs and dirty bug activities: Now you are trying to get people to worship with them! What will come next? Bugs teaching human children? Preparing our food? Sleeping in the same rooms with us?"
Briann listened in silence to the angry tirade, forbearing from interruption or reply. Twikanrozex did his best to memorize it all, down to the last sputtering slur. Neither man nor thranx was especially offended. They had heard it all before, though usually couched in flaccid overtones of false civility. Unusually, this human was unabashedly vociferous in his bigotry, not caring if anyone overheard. It was possible, Briann mooted, that he wanted to be overheard. Certainly those strollers within easy hearing distance, human and thranx alike, turned to stare in the direction of the diatribe. To their credit, most appeared embarrassed by the outburst of undisguised vitriol.
Her dark green hair cropped fashionably short, the ranter's taller female companion made an effort to calm her comrade. He would have none of it, disdaining her murmured words and twice shaking her hand off his shoulder. When neither of the targets of his interminable vehemence showed any signs of reacting, either to his tone or to his words, he began to advance in their direction.
"That's close enough." Briann's tone was decidedly sharp, sufficiently so to bring the man to a surprised halt. His countenance twisted into a perfect sneer.
"Why, Padre, or whatever it is you degenerates choose to call yourselves, that's hardly a spiritual attitude."
"You're wrong, visitor. The spirit takes many forms. Hallowed also is the spirit of defiance."
Looking decidedly uneasy, the woman continued to badger her companion from behind. "That's enough, Nevisrighne. We'll be late for our . . . appointment."
The man gestured in her direction, evidently enjoying himself. "No, no, Pierrot. We have time. Time enough to instruct the degraded." His attention shifted back to the quietly watching Briann. "Why, I do believe, Padre, that if I were to intrude too much on your personal space, you would physically push me away."
"I might." Briann's tone had not changed.
"You might even take a swing at me."
"In a universe of infinite possibilities, all things are possible," Briann admitted piously.
"In which case I would be forced to defend myself. While it is true that we stand equal here in the number of witnesses, mine is human, whereas yours is only a lowly bug."
"Enough of this. Come away from here, Nevisrighne!" The woman was not distraught, Briann noted, so much as she was enraged.
"Shut up, Pierrot." The dark man's sneer slipped smileward. "Just a quick lesson. In possibilities." His right hand slipped toward the inside of his open shirt - and froze before the first finger could edge inside. His rage vanished, subsumed by a look of total surprise. It was focused not on Briann, but behind him.
Twikanrozex held a gun in each gleaming, chitinous hand. All four of them. Faced with this entirely unexpected and formidable quadruple arsenal, the swarthy fanatic slowly drew his one hand away from his chest and let it fall back to his side. So shocked was he that it took him a moment to find his voice.
"Very spiritual," he finally muttered uneasily to Briann without taking his eyes off the unexpectedly heavily armed thranx. "Not only have you become personally debased, whoever you are: Your so-called holy organization is founded on hypocrisy."
"Wrong again. This must be your day to wallow in wrongness, my friend." Briann did not have to look behind him to know what Twikanrozex had done. The thranx's actions were reflected in the shorter man's reaction as clearly as if in a mirror. "We who serve the United Church believe very strongly in always maintaining a sound defense against any who would do us harm. It is one of the fundamental tenets of our belief."
"What about turning the other cheek?" The ranter had forgotten whatever lay hidden against his left armpit. And wisely so.
"We are always willing to do that. Twikanrozex, turn the other cheek for this man." Behind him, the thranx obediently turned his head to the right. His astonishing peripheral vision still allowed him to keep that now subdued individual in view. At the same time, the muzzles of the four pistols did not waver.
"An unsurpassed model of sarcastic religious miscegenation." Retreating, the speaker rejoined his plainly exasperated companion. "If the Fates so decree it, we may meet again some day, Padre. I would enjoy having the chance to
resume your education."
"And I yours, my friend. Enjoy the fair."
"Indeed, I will. More than you can imagine." With that he turned and stomped off, making no effort to disguise his enduring furor, brushing aside the arm of his annoyed companion.
Briann followed the curious pair until they passed out of sight behind a cluster of bobbing, transparent spheres that periodically paused to engulf unsuspecting passersby in an assortment of cleverly preprogrammed advertisements.
"That was unpleasant," he observed.
"Yes." Twikanrozex had slipped his quartet of weapons back into their respective pouches. "I'm convinced that if I had not intervened, he might have tried to do you an injury. A disappointing first for us."
"Maybe more than that." Briann's thoughts were churning. "Unless you have a specific destination or prospect in mind, I think I'd like to follow those two for a while."
Twikanrozex moved forward to join his friend. "Follow them? To what end?"
"I don't know." The human half of the team rubbed the damp back of his neck. "That one was more than xenophobic. There was something in his gaze. Just a little wildness, maybe. Or perhaps a little something more."
"You are suggesting he is even more volatile than he appears?"
"I'm thinking that, at least when he was looking at you, he bordered on the homicidal. I may be imagining things, but it wasn't just him, either. The woman he was with? The longer he rambled on, the more agitated she became. And it wasn't the kind of nervousness that someone exhibits when their companion is making a fool of himself. It struck me as more profound than that."
Reaching up, Twikanrozex touched his friend's bare arm with a truhand. "Like you, I have no agenda for the remainder of this day other than to wander, to observe, to converse, and to learn."
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