Timothy Zahn - Conquerors' Legacy

The first Zhirrzh extends his tongue in similar fashion for 0.23 second. {Are you a kabrsif?}

I examine the unknown word carefully for 0.54 second, comparing it to the other words in my vocabulary list and attempting to interpolate its meaning. But I am unable to do so. {I do not know the meaning of that term.}

{Are you the kassmi'fss of a Human-Conqueror?}

{I do not know the meaning of that term. I have traveled far with Commander Pheylan Cavanagh, and would like to know where he has been taken.}

The first Zhirrzh steps 0.27 meter closer to me. {How long have you known Pheylan Cavanagh?}

I spend 0.04 second reviewing my core database, confirm that information on Lord Cavanagh and his family was among my primary programming. {I have known of his existence for three years. I met him in person approximately twenty-one days ago, during the mission to rescue him.}

{You were present at his rescue?}

{Yes.}

There is a general stirring among the Zhirrzh, and a low-level buzz of conversation too faint and mixed for me to decipher. {What did you do during the rescue?}

{I guided the rescue team to his position. I also performed a primary analysis of the poison in his body as he was being brought from the surface to the fueler.}

{During that flight? While he was in the small fighter warcraft?}

{Yes.}

The Zhirrzh's posture changes, and I compute a probability of 0.87 that he is listening to one of the unknown communication conduits. {Yes, I know. But the kabrsifli stated there were only Human-Conquerors aboard the fighter spacecraft—}

He stops, listening again, and after 4.79 seconds he bobs his head in a short nod. {Yes. You'd better alert Second Commander Klnn-vavgi.}

His center pupils narrow another 30 percent. {Tell him that Thrr-gilag may have been right. That the Human-Conquerors may indeed have kabrsifli.}

"Small probe," Klnn-dawan-a said, holding out her hand.

"Small probe," Thrr-gilag repeated, choosing the instrument and handing it to her. Pheylan Cavanagh was looking warily at the probe, but Thrr-gilag's attention wasn't really on him. Three Elders were still keeping watch on them from various corners of the room. Thrr-gilag had no idea which Elders they were, or whose side they were on, and until they left, he didn't dare allow Melinda Cavanagh to release Prr't-zevisti's cutting from that metal box. She had indicated that a diversion would be coming soon, but what that diversion might be she hadn't said.

"Thrr-gilag," an agitated voice whispered at his ear.

Reflexively, Thrr-gilag stepped back behind Klnn-dawan-a, giving the Elder a little more visual cover from the two Humans. "Yes?"

"There's news from the technic examination room," the Elder said, the words tumbling over themselves in his hurry to get them out. "The Human-Conquerors may have Elders after all—they think they have one in there now!"

Thrr-gilag felt his tail twitch violently. Could that dubious hunch of his actually have been right? "What?"

"Yes—Human-Conqueror Elders," the Elder repeated. "Do you need us to keep watching here?"

Was this Melinda Cavanagh's diversion? Even if it wasn't, it was the perfect opening. "Not at all," he assured the Elder. "The Human is immobilized, and there are two warriors outside. Go on, and take the other Elders with you."

"Thank you," the Elder said. "I'll let you know what they find out as soon as I can."

"There's no hurry," Thrr-gilag said. "I'd rather you stayed there and learned everything you can."

The Elder flicked his tongue and vanished. Slowly, carefully, Thrr-gilag looked around the room. All three Elders were gone.

"What is it?" Klnn-dawan-a asked.

"Our chance," Thrr-gilag told her, motioning Melinda Cavanagh toward the metal box. "Quickly," he said in the Human language.

"I heard something about Human-Conqueror Elders," Klnn-dawan-a said as Melinda Cavanagh set to work on the last two fasteners.

"The technics think they've found one," he told her, looking around the room again. Still clear. "I have no idea what's going on, but this is our chance to sneak Prr't-zevisti's cutting out."

"What's happened?" Melinda Cavanagh asked.

"Something about the technics discovering a Human Elder," Thrr-gilag told her. "But there are no such things, are there?"

She shook her head. "Not unless you believe in ghosts."

"What do Elders have to do with ghosts?" Pheylan Cavanagh asked.

"They're the Zhirrzh version of the afterlife," his sister told him. "I'm told you saw one once." She finished the last fastener and pulled the metal plate off—

And with a rush like smoke escaping from a bubble, Prr't-zevisti appeared.

There was a sharp inhalation from Pheylan Cavanagh. "You've heard everything?" Thrr-gilag asked Prr't-zevisti as Melinda Cavanagh set to work digging the sampler out from where she'd wedged it.

"I have," Prr't-zevisti rumbled. "And I will have strong words for the Overclan Seating concerning the Speaker for Dhaa'rr."

"Only if you can get those words to someone who'll pass them on," Klnn-dawan-a reminded him tartly. "You've heard the situation—Speaker Cvv-panav's agents have the whole encampment legally under their command. Are there any Elders here you can trust to take a message back to Oaccanv without asking permission first?"

"There are several who have nothing but contempt for this kind of clan politics," he assured her. "As soon as Melinda Cavanagh has freed my cutting from the confines of this box, I'll go find them."

"And try not to let anyone else see you," Thrr-gilag warned, "if word gets back to Mnov-korthe before anyone back home knows about you, we could still lose it all."

With a final tug Melinda Cavanagh's hand emerged from the box with the sampler—

And suddenly Prr't-zevisti's face was infused with the most amazing expression of pure joy that Thrr-gilag had ever seen. "Thrr-gilag—my fsss —"

And without another word he was gone.

" 'All is quiet here, Overclan Prime,' " the Elder quoted. " 'There have been no attempts by anyone to enter your private chambers.' "

"Thank you," the Prime said. After that hilltop conversation with Thrr-tulkoj and Thrr't-rokik he'd decided that that possibility was reasonably remote. Still, it never paid to underestimate the subtlety of one's enemies. "Keep alert." He nodded to the Elder. "You may close the pathway."

"I obey, Overclan Prime." The Elder vanished.

The Prime adjusted his position on his couch, gazing out the transport window at the dark landscape rolling by beneath them and feeling like a contact juggler trying to handle five crystal orbs at once. The situation on Dorcas had some serious political implications; but the question of possible Mrach duplicity had a far greater potential for widespread disaster. As soon as he got back to Unity City and secure Elder pathways, he would have to contact Warrior Command and let them know what was happening on Mra.

After that he would have to get hold of Speaker Cvv-panav on Dharanv. Let him know about the Mrachanis and hint to the Speaker that he knew what the other was up to on Dorcas. Perhaps the time was right to strike another deal.

An Elder flicked into view across the transport's darkened cabin. Yet another bored and nosy Elder from the shrines below, no doubt, checking out the group of aircraft flying by so late. The Prime opened his mouth to suggest that the Elder leave—

And to his surprise the Elder's initial expression of relief and joy turned suddenly into terror. "What in—?" he gasped, looking frantically around him. "Where—how—?"

"Can I help you?" the Prime asked.

The Elder darted over to him, his eyes clinging to the Prime as if to the last lifeline of a rescue ship. "A Zhirrzh," he said, already starting to sound calmer. "I thought I was—" He broke off, flicking his tongue. "Please—where am I?"