Timothy Zahn - Conquerors' Legacy

Melinda blinked. "A prisoner? From where?"

"From a spacecraft that landed southwest of here a few hours ago." Holloway's face tightened. "Which we were too damn slow off our butts to get to first."

"I'm sorry," was all Melinda could think of to say.

"You're going to be sorrier," Holloway said. "According to the Zhirrzh, the prisoner is your brother Pheylan."

Melinda felt her mouth drop open, a horrible lightness suddenly gripping her vision. "Pheylan?" she breathed. "But how—?"

"I don't know the hows or whys," Holloway said. "I only know that he has a broken leg, and that the Zhirrzh are offering to take one of our healers back to treat him."

With an effort Melinda broke the paralysis gripping her. "Of course," she said, starting toward the door. "I'll get my bag."

Holloway caught her arm as she started to pass him. "I want to make sure you understand this before you go, Doctor," he said. "If this was a purely humanitarian gesture, they could as easily have brought your brother here for treatment. The fact that they want you to go to them instead implies they're looking to pick up another hostage."

"I understand," Melinda said, trying to pull away from him.

He didn't let go. "I don't think you do," he said, his voice suddenly grim. "The fact that your brother made it here alive instead of being vaporized on the way down implies that their blockade may have suddenly developed a crack. Maybe more than a crack; maybe it's completely gone. Either way, it's time we gave it a little nudge."

Melinda stared at him. "Are you saying you're going to attack?"

Holloway's eyes flicked over her shoulder to where Prr't-zevisti was hovering, silently watching them. "I'm saying it's time to test their strength," he said. "Without going into details, it's suddenly become very urgent that we do whatever we can to get our civilians out of here. If the Zhirrzh have diverted their blockade ships to another theater of operations, now's the time for us to get a ship off and go for help."

"But you don't have to attack the ground base for that, do you?" Melinda asked.

Holloway's cheek twitched. "I wish we didn't. But we do. The ground base is undoubtedly acting as targeting spotter for the blockade forces, as well as being a threat to any incoming transports. It has to be neutralized."

"I see," Melinda said quietly. "Never mind that the war might be a mistake?"

"That's for the diplomats to work out," Holloway told her. "If we get off Dorcas, I'll be happy to tell them your theory. But until then I have a job to do."

"And anyone caught in the cross fire has to be considered expendable."

"Would you have me risk twenty-five thousand lives for your three?" he countered. "Or, rather, for their two? You don't have to go."

"Don't be ridiculous," Melinda bit out. "We're wasting time, and I still have to go get my bag."

Holloway let go of her arm and pushed open the door. "I've already had it sent for," he said. "It'll be waiting at Sentry Nine."

"Thank you." Melinda stepped past him into the doorway, then paused and turned around. "Farewell, Prr't-zevisti," she called, looking around for him. "I'll try to come back again soon."

But the pale form was nowhere to be seen, and her words brought no response. Turning back again, she left the chamber. Holloway sealed it behind them, then led the way across the cavern. "Can you at least tell me when you're going to attack?" Melinda asked as they ducked through the blackout curtain into the cool mountain air outside.

"You'll hear us coming," Holloway assured her. "You'd better not mention this to Janovetz or your brother, either. The Zhirrzh will undoubtedly be monitoring you, and I don't want them tipped off."

Holloway led the way around an outcropping of the cliff; and there it was, its milky-white hull gleaming brightly in the afternoon sunshine. A Zhirrzh aircar, surrounded by a semicircle of Peacekeepers, their Oberon assault guns leveled warningly. Standing a few meters in front of the aircar, under the wary eyes of more Peacekeepers, a single Zhirrzh was in the process of emptying the contents of his hip pouch onto the top of one of the rock-filled magnesium crates that had been set up to provide the sentries with some protection.

"Fuji's got your bag and some other supplies over there," Holloway said, nodding toward where Major Takara was standing watch over the whole operation. "Two of the tubes mixed in with the analgesics are phonies; you'll know them by the fake chemical names. They contain a low-yield binary explosive that you should be able to use to break out of whatever building they lock you into. Janovetz will know how to use them."

Melinda grimaced. "I understand. Any other surprises?"

"Yes." Holloway hesitated. "We've put in a vital-signs monitor for you. Among the usual electronics we've added a high-power white-noise radio transmitter."

Melinda stopped. "You've what?" she hissed. "Are you out of your mind? That's their idea of the ultimate weapon—what if they catch me with it?"

"They'll never know it's there," Holloway assured her. "The whole casing's metal—their Elders won't be able to even look inside."

"That's so very comforting," Melinda said icily, ashamed and enraged both by this betrayal. She'd given him all this Elderdeath information in good faith, assuming he would use it to help stop this war. Instead he'd taken Prr't-zevisti's gesture of trust and turned it back into a weapon. "Excuse me, please, my brother's waiting for me."

She pulled away from him, stalking off alone across the uneven ground toward the Zhirrzh aircar. Holloway made no move to follow, undoubtedly the smartest thing he could do. That stupid, rigid, military mind of his—

"Doctor-Cavan-a?"

Melinda jerked as if she'd touched a hot electrode, sheer momentum keeping her feet moving. Nothing was visible in the sunlight; but it had been Prr't-zevisti's voice.

Except that the configuration chamber had been sealed behind them...

"They have brought me another cutting," the Elder hissed. "It is resting on the box with other items. The box is metal—I cannot return to my fsss from there. Can you move it?"

Melinda bit at the inside of her cheek. The Zhirrzh had finished emptying his pouch now and had taken a few steps back toward the aircar. His collection of artifacts was sitting in plain sight on the crate almost directly ahead of her, being ignored by the Peacekeeper squad. It would be easy enough to reach over as she passed and pick it up.

Except that Prr't-zevisti had been listening in the configuration chamber when Holloway was discussing his planned attack on the Zhirrzh base. For that matter, there was an even chance he'd also heard Holloway talking about the Elderdeath weapon he was planting on her. If she helped him get to where he could talk with other Zhirrzh...

"I will not tell what I have heard, Doctor-Cavan-a," Prr't-zevisti said. "I give you my promise of honor."

"Why not?" Melinda murmured back, trying to keep her lips from moving. "Your people's lives are at stake."

"Not their lives," Prr't-zevisti corrected her. "They would only be raised to Eldership."

"And that's not important to you?"

"It is very important," Prr't-zevisti said. "But it is more important that the war be ended quickly."

Melinda swallowed. "I would be trusting you with my life, Prr't-zevisti. Do you understand that?"

"With my promise of honor, Doctor-Cavan-a. I will not tell what I have heard."

And so there it was. Fifteen minutes ago she'd been willing to gamble with the lives of everyone up here in the mountains on the words and promise of an alien ghost. Was she equally willing to gamble her own life, right here and now, on those same words and promise? "All right," she said. "Where's the cutting?"