Timothy Zahn - Conquerors' Legacy

As yet the registry does not indicate the Happenstance has filed a flight prospectus or initiated any preflight checks. Still, if I am able to learn Brigadier Bronski's destination before I leave Edo, it will give me additional data to present to Commander Cavanagh when I arrive at Target One.

"We don't want to spend the next five tentharcs driving through empty space getting to them, either," Sps-kudah countered. "I know what I'm doing, Searcher."

"I hope so," Nzz-oonaz murmured, feeling his tail pick up its already nervous pace. The first contact with the Mrachanis, over half a cyclic ago, hadn't been much more than a quick mutual glimpse between two ships over a mostly uninhabited world. The second contact, only twenty fullarcs ago in the same star system, had barely begun when the Mrachani spacecraft opened fire with Elderdeath weapons. The two Mrachanis who had survived the Zhirrzh counterattack had been taken back to Oaccanv, where they'd offered an alliance against the Human-Conquerors before they'd died.

The Overclan Seating had concluded their request was sincere. Nzz-oonaz wasn't so sure. And he couldn't help wondering if he would be an Elder at his family shrine before this fullarc was over.

The indicator lines crossed; and with a crack of optronic capacitors, the Closed Mouth returned to normal space.

To find the Mrachanis waiting for them.

Someone in the control room hissed a curse. "Steady, everyone," Nzz-oonaz warned. At least fifteen spacecraft were arrayed in front of them, spread out widely across their field of view and fading back against the backdrop of the half-sunlit planet behind them. "Ship Commander Sps-kudah, is the floater ready?"

"I've already deployed it, Speaker," Sps-kudah said. "There—you see it?"

Nzz-oonaz nodded, watching as the small box drifted outward from the Closed Mouth, its tethering cable slowly uncoiling behind it. Strictly speaking, deploying the floater without permission was a breach of command etiquette on Ship Commander Sps-kudah's part, but for right now etiquette wasn't high on Nzz-oonaz's list. This was the same technique the Mrachanis who'd gone to Dorcas had used to open communications, which theoretically should guarantee the same peaceful outcome for this contact.

On the other side, if the Mrachanis who'd arrived on Dorcas were members of a different clan or family from the group the Closed Mouth was facing now, the spacecraft out there might decide the floater was some kind of weapon. In which case things might not go smoothly at all.

But that fear, at least, proved groundless. The floater had scarcely begun its journey when one of the Mrachani spacecraft began to maneuver itself onto its vector. A few hunbeats later, having reached its chosen position, it launched a box of its own. The Elders examined it as it came within range and pronounced it to be a Human-Conqueror-Style recorder—the same kind, if the description was accurate, that the Mrachanis had used at Dorcas.

"At least we're dealing with the same clan," Ship Commander Sps-kudah grunted. "That's something."

"If they even have individual clans," Nzz-oonaz said, watching the image being sent back from the floater. The two boxes were close enough together now for him to see that the Mrachani recorder had Human-Conqueror words displayed on it.

"Get a translation of that," Ship Commander Sps-kudah ordered, jabbing his tongue at the monitor.

"No need," Nzz-oonaz said. "It says, 'We are the Mrachanis. We are not your enemies. Please do not attack us. Please allow us to speak directly with you.' That's the same message they used at Dorcas."

Belatedly, the interpreter translation came up on another monitor. Ship Commander Sps-kudah glanced at it, grunted again. "Message: 'We're not here to fight, but to speak. Will you give us landing instructions?' "

Nzz-oonaz looked across the control room, flicked his tongue at Gll-borgiv. "Can you write that directly into the Human-Conqueror language?"

"Certainly," Gll-borgiv assured him. Bending over the floater control board, he set to work.

Nzz-oonaz watched as the other's fingers and tongue jabbed rapidly across the keys, a mixture of envy and wariness flowing across his tongue. Wariness, because of the Overclan Prime's warning about the Dhaa'rr clan just before they'd lifted off from Oaccanv; envy, because despite Gll-borgiv's mediocre talents as a searcher, he was far better with alien languages than Nzz-oonaz could ever hope to be.

As they seemed to have expected the floater, the Mrachanis had apparently also anticipated the question. Ship Commander Sps-kudah's message had barely gone out to the floater monitor when the reply appeared on their recorder. "It says, This spacecraft will lead you,' " Gll-borgiv translated. " 'Follow to a safely secluded landing area.' "

Nzz-oonaz looked past the Mrachani spacecraft at the dark half of the planet behind them—dark except for the tightly woven pattern of ground lights that seemed to fill a wide band reaching from the equator nearly to both poles. A secluded landing area where they could talk in private? Or a secluded landing area where the Mrachanis could raise everyone aboard to Eldership and dissect the ship at their leisure? Either for the Human-Conqueror's benefit or their own?

That was one of the things the Closed Mouth had been sent to find out. "Signal our agreement, Gll-borgiv," he instructed, flicking his tongue at the Dhaa'rr searcher. "Ship Commander Sps-kudah, reel in the floater and prepare the Closed Mouth to follow him down."

He glanced again at the well-lit planetary darkside. "Let's see where in all of that the Mrachanis think they can hide us."

The Mrachanis had indeed found a secluded place, but it was nothing like what Nzz-oonaz had been expecting. In fact, it was like nothing he'd ever seen before.

His first thought as they came within clear sight of the area was that the Mrachanis had for some unknown reason created for themselves an otherwise impossible melding of wasteland, mountain, and miniature tropical forest. The ground seemed almost to writhe beneath them as they flew overhead, long and incredibly craggy rocks jutting upward from the ground in groups or long ridges. Between the protruding clusters of rock, nestled with mindless defiance in each hollow or miniature valley, were clumps of small trees and shrubs.

Dominating the whole impressive landscape was an even more impressive circular mountain ridge, half a thoustride high at least and perhaps ten across, looking like the remnants of a volcano that had exploded and collapsed in on itself. Just south of the ring was a rough but serviceable-looking landing area, running east to west across the uneven ground. The Mrachani spacecraft led them toward it, and as they approached, Nzz-oonaz could see that there were several large ground vehicles waiting. Transports, perhaps, though they seemed too large for that. Possibly they were heavy haulers, there to pull the Closed Mouth to wherever they intended to hide it.

He felt a breath of air against the side of his face and turned to see Gll-borgiv step up beside him. The other was staring at the main monitor, his expression uneasy. "Take a look at that ring-shaped cliff, will you, Searcher Nzz-oonaz?" he asked. "Tell me if those black spots are what I think they are."

Nzz-oonaz looked back at the display, the taste of annoyance bubbling under his tongue. He hated this kind of guessing game. Still, Gll-borgiv was right: there were dark pockmarks scattered all across the ring cliffs.

Scattered rather uniformly, now that he was actually looking at them. Almost in straight lines... "Ship Commander?"

"Yes, Searcher?"

Nzz-oonaz pointed at the display. "A laser-scan probe of those dark spots on the cliffs. See if they're indented from the rock around them."