Timothy Zahn - Conquerors' Legacy

There was a brief exchange of words, the Human-Conqueror pointing across the storehouse toward another of the blast holes. "Not from this one," the translation came. "May I look over there?"

"Go ahead," Thrr-mezaz said, gesturing permission to the prisoner's escort. "Warriors, watch him."

Thrr-gilag translated, and the alien set off across the storehouse, Thrr-gilag, Klnn-dawan-a, and the warriors forming a moving semicircle around him. "There's one other possibility, Commander," Klnn-vavgi said as he and Thrr-mezaz followed more slowly. "We know now that the Human-Conquerors can detect spacecraft in the tunnel-line, which means they knew we were coming. Could these explosives have been left behind as ensnarement traps for us?"

"Why only in this one storehouse?" Thrr-mezaz asked.

"Maybe they weren't only here," Klnn-vavgi suggested. "Maybe the whole village is set up to explode around us."

"If so, why haven't they used them?"

"Because they know that raising the whole beachhead to Eldership won't gain them anything," Klnn-vavgi said. "As long as the encirclement forces are overhead, they'll still be trapped here."

And those encirclement forces were about to be withdrawn. Thrr-mezaz glanced upward, an eerie feeling flowing over his tongue. To be sitting here in the middle of a Human-Conqueror ensnarement trap... "No," he said slowly. "If they'd deliberately set up a trap in the storehouse, they surely would have done a better job of it. As it was, all they did was blow off the doors and make a couple of holes in the walls."

"And raised two warriors to Eldership," Klnn-vavgi reminded him darkly.

"Because they happened to be standing in front of the doors," Thrr-mezaz countered. "Almost collateral damage from the Human-Conquerors' point of view—certainly so if the Mrachanis were their intended target. No, Second, a deliberate ensnarement trap ought to have brought the whole storehouse down."

"Maybe," Klnn-vavgi said, a lingering edge of doubt evident in his tone. "But that just brings it back to the Mrachanis. Why would they want to blow holes in their own living area?"

The Human-Conqueror prisoner was at the other blast hole now, looking closely at the blackened edge. "There's one possibility," Thrr-mezaz said. "Ever since they got here, the Mrachanis have been either pleading or demanding to be taken to Oaccanv. What better way to make us hurry the decision than to create a sudden and immediate threat to their lives?"

"Interesting suggestion," Klnn-vavgi said, flicking his tongue thoughtfully. "It would certainly bend the image the Mrachanis have been presenting of themselves as poor, helpless victims of the Human-Conquerors."

"If it's true," Thrr-mezaz said. "Question is, how would we go about testing it?"

"I don't know," Klnn-vavgi said. "Unless..."

"Unless what?"

Klnn-vavgi flicked his tongue toward the prisoner, who was rubbing his fingers gingerly across the edge of the blast hole. "Unless Srgent-janovetz has similar explosives aboard his aircraft," he said. "We could test this splinter theory by putting one explosive on each side of a wooden wall and seeing which way the splinters went."

"Might be worth trying," Thrr-mezaz murmured. "Of course, you know what the chances are that he'd admit to having explosives aboard."

"Zero?"

"About that," Thrr-mezaz agreed.

The Human-Conqueror was speaking again as they arrived at the knot of Zhirrzh surrounding him. "It's been too long," Thrr-gilag translated. "Rain and wind have erased the odors he could have used to identify the explosive." He looked at Thrr-mezaz. "Now what?"

"We return him to detention, I suppose," Thrr-mezaz said. "Go ahead and take him back," he added to the warriors.

Thrr-gilag translated the instructions to the prisoner, who nodded and headed off obediently with his escort. Klnn-dawan-a started to follow, stopped at a gesture from Thrr-gilag, and together with Thrr-mezaz and Klnn-vavgi they watched as the warriors and prisoner left the storehouse. "What do you think?" Thrr-gilag asked when the four of them were alone.

"You and Klnn-dawan-a are the alien specialists," Thrr-mezaz countered. "You tell me."

"I think he's telling the truth," Klnn-dawan-a said. "I still don't see what he would gain by lying to us."

"He may be trying to create distrust toward the Mrachanis," Klnn-vavgi suggested. "Maybe that was the whole purpose of the attack."

"If so, it was dangerously subtle," Thrr-gilag pointed out. "We came close to missing it entirely."

"Besides, that just circles us back to the question of how the Human-Conquerors carried out the attack," Klnn-vavgi added. "It all becomes a lot simpler if the Mrachanis staged it themselves."

"Maybe," Thrr-mezaz said, stepping forward and gazing at the splintered edge of the hole. Could the Mrachanis really have faked this attack to try to force the Zhirrzh to take them to Oaccanv?

And if so, what had their motive been? To establish communications and an alliance with the Overclan Prime, as they claimed?

Or to guide Human-Conqueror warships directly to the Zhirrzh homeworld?

"We'll want to wait until all the incoming passengers have gotten off and the cargo's been unloaded," Kolchin said quietly. "Keep an eye out for anything that strikes you as odd."

Cavanagh nodded. "Right."

Twin gangways came down onto the dock with twin thumps, and a handful of figures emerged from the shadows on the deck and started on down, carrybags or backpacks slung over their shoulders. Most were human, but there was a sprinkling of other races as well. All had the weathered but freshly scrubbed look of sap miners returning from a brief visit to the conveniences of civilization, in marked contrast to the generally grimy condition of those waiting on the dock with Cavanagh and Kolchin for their turn to go aboard. From the aft section of the ferry a collapsible crane unlimbered itself and began lifting cargo crates from the fantail onto the end of the dock.

For no particular reason Cavanagh found himself counting the passengers as they lumbered down the gangways. There were twenty-seven of them, roughly the same number as were waiting to go aboard. A fairly standard-size group for a midweek evening run back to Puerto Simone Island, or so Kolchin's discreet questioning had determined. Cavanagh would have preferred a larger crowd for them to hide in, but apparently even on weekends the traffic didn't swell all that much. It took a festival or other special occasion to attract any truly large groups of miners to the island.

An elbow touched his side, and he turned to see Kolchin gazing off to their right. "We've got company," the bodyguard murmured.

Cavanagh followed his gaze. Passing beneath one of the dull overhead walklights, ambling directly toward them, was a broad-shouldered Avuire. "Is that...?"

"Sure is," Kolchin confirmed, waving his hand in an Avuirlian salutation toward the newcomer. "Greetings, Moo Sab Piltariab."

"Greetings to you, Moo Sab Plex," Piltariab said, gesturing back to them. "I thought that was you and Moo Sab Stymer. You are heading to the island this night?"

"Yes," Kolchin said. "You, too?"

"Yes, indeed," Piltariab agreed, coming over and standing beside them. Cavanagh sniffed carefully, but the smell of the ferry's locally grown fuel oil completely overwhelmed the more subtle Avuirlian aromotional cues. "Without you there to hunt fresh prey, Moo Sab Plex, my mining group has run out of proper edibles. It is necessary for me to return to the island to purchase more."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Kolchin said. "Though of course the quality of edibles from the island is superior to anything your group could capture in a hunt."

"More tasteworthy, but also more costful," Piltariab sighed, a burst of lilac and pepper momentarily beating out the fuel oil. "I must agree with you, Moo Sab Plex. But to our venture organizer, cost is what is important. If I may say so, he is most upset with your departure."