Timothy Zahn - Conquerors' Heritage

Thrr-gilag frowned; and then it hit him, like a tongue edge in the neck. "You mean you just tossed it into a—a box or something?"

"Exactly correct, I'm afraid," Thrr't-rokik admitted. "It's in a sealed container buried out back beneath the Kyranda bushes." He eyed Thrr-gilag, his face pinched in anxious anticipation. "You're shocked, of course. I can't say I blame you."

Thrr-gilag sighed, acutely aware of the irony of it all. He and Thrr-mezaz were conspiring to put their illegal cutting of Prr't-zevisti's fsss in a predator-proof box on Dorcas; and here their father had already done the same thing. It must run in the family. "Actually, I'm not nearly as shocked as you probably think," he told Thrr't-rokik. "Who did you talk into doing this for you?"

"I suppose there's no real harm in telling you," Thrr't-rokik said. "After what's happened, it's all bound to come out soon anyway. They'll undoubtedly do a complete check of all the fsss organs at the family shrine to see if any of them were tampered with."

Thrr-gilag nodded. Once again, it was obvious. "It was Thrr-tulkoj, wasn't it?" he asked. "Only a shrine protector would have that kind of access."

"Yes." Thrr't-rokik nodded heavily. "And he's going to be in serious trouble when it's discovered. But for now there's nothing we can do about that." He looked at Thrr-gilag, a sudden fire in his eyes. "What we can do something about—maybe—is the trouble your mother's in. You see, I didn't attend that big Elder meeting last latearc. I was here."

Thrr-gilag's tail twitched. "You were here?" he echoed. "I mean, right here at this house?"

"Right here," Thrr't-rokik agreed soberly. "And I saw everything. There were two of them, two young males, dressed in the sort of outfits you sometimes see in warrior entertainment dramas. They came up to the door and laid the pouch on the ground, then knocked twice and ran."

"Why didn't you alert the rest of the Elders?"

"I wish I had," Thrr't-rokik sighed. "But I didn't recognize the significance of what I'd seen. Not until the warriors came up out of cover and charged toward the house—"

"Wait a beat." Thrr-gilag frowned. "The warriors came out of cover? Where out of cover?"

"Oh, pretty much everywhere," Thrr't-rokik said, waving vaguely around him. "From the various farmers' outbuildings, out of ditches, behind scrub-plant clusters—all around the area. I didn't even notice them until they started moving."

Thrr-gilag pressed the tip of his tongue hard against the top of his mouth. "But then that means it wasn't just some sudden news or anonymous warning that got them here in time to stop mother from destroying her fsss," he said slowly. "They were waiting for it to show up. And yet you say they deliberately let those two males leave?"

"I don't know how deliberate it was," Thrr't-rokik said. "They could simply have been caught off guard. As I said, it happened very quickly."

"Maybe," Thrr-gilag growled. "But a few properly positioned Elders ought to have been able to give the warriors enough warning to catch them." He glared at his father. "Assuming, of course, that they wanted to catch them."

"Be very careful, my son," Thrr't-rokik warned. "What you're hinting at could get you into serious trouble."

Thrr-gilag flicked a tongue contemptuously. "I'm already in serious trouble. Or I will be soon, anyway."

"That's no reason to make things worse by announcing unproved accusations," Thrr't-rokik countered. "It doesn't help you or your mother."

With an effort Thrr-gilag forced down his growing anger. "Then we'll get some proof," he said. "You say you saw these two Zhirrzh. Would you recognize them if you saw them again?"

"I'm sure I would," Thrr't-rokik said.

"All right, then," Thrr-gilag said, fingering his mother's gardening trowel. "What we'll do is put their description out into the Elder network and see if we can track them down."

"Risky," his father said, flicking his tongue in a negative. "They certainly aren't going to want to be found; and if they catch even a hint that someone saw them, they're likely to bury themselves where we'll never find them."

Thrr-gilag grimaced. "I know. But it's all we've got."

"Actually, maybe not," Thrr't-rokik said. "I told you they left on foot. What I haven't yet told you is they didn't travel that way for long. They had a small transport waiting about a hundred strides to the west."

"Probably how they got here from the shrine," Thrr-gilag said, hearing an edge of bitterness in his voice. "A whole transport. I wonder how the Overclan warriors missed that"

"It's not impossible, Thrr-gilag," Thrr't-rokik cautioned. "Please don't stumble to false conclusions here. The vehicle had no lights or markings and looked to be darklight-shielded as well."

"Which all by itself proves someone important was involved," Thrr-gilag countered. "Transport modifications like that don't come cheap. They're only used when someone has something to hide."

"Perhaps," Thrr't-rokik said. "But they may have missed a bet. My cutting's a bit subsized, and I didn't have much time to look over the transport before they flew out of range. But I did get a chance to look at the floater engines, which turned out to be quite warm. Best guess is that they floated in at ground level for the last thoustride or so."

"Which you're probably going to say is why the Overclan warriors didn't spot them," Thrr-gilag sighed. "They're sure not making this easy to prove, are they?"

"I'm sure that's their goal," Thrr't-rokik agreed. "Whoever 'they' are, and whatever 'they' were doing. But you miss my point. As I said, the floater engines were warm. Warm enough to give off a fair amount of darklight." He smiled grimly. "Enough darklight, as it happens, for me to read the manufactural identification numbers."

Thrr-gilag felt his midlight pupils narrow. "You got the numbers?" he breathed. "Well, then—well, then, we're in. We've got them. We've got them by their tongues."

"Easy, son, easy," Thrr't-rokik said, holding up a hand. "It's not going to be that easy. We can't just announce the numbers and call for a public explanation. As you said, someone important is likely involved in this, and political power almost always comes with importance. We can't risk a countermove that crushes our entire family beneath it."

"So what do we do?" Thrr-gilag demanded. "Keep quiet and let them get away with it?"

"Of course not," Thrr't-rokik said. "All I'm saying is that the obvious, public way isn't going to work here. For right now Thrr-pifix-a is all right: she's shamed, but for whatever reasons, whoever's behind all this doesn't seem to want it made public. That means we have time. So what I'll do is—"

He broke off. Across the house there was a quiet knock at the door.

For a beat Thrr-gilag just looked at Thrr't-rokik, wondering if he'd imagined the sound. The knock came again; and Thrr't-rokik flickered and was gone.

He was back two beats later. "I don't know," he hissed to Thrr-gilag. "One Zhirrzh, male, middle-aged. He looks very familiar, somehow, but I can't place him."

There was a third knock, a more insistent one this time. "Keep watch," Thrr-gilag told his father, crossing the kitchen to the door. Bracing himself, trying to prepare himself mentally for anything, he pulled it open.

"Hello, Searcher," the Overclan Prime said. "I'm glad you were able to find your way out here. May I come in?"

Thrr-gilag swallowed. This was not anywhere on his impromptu mental list of possibilities. "Certainly, Overclan Prime," he said, moving back out of the way.

"Thank you." The Prime stepped inside; and as he passed, Thrr-gilag noticed the irritating pulsating tone that followed along with him. A hummer, already activated. Whatever was about to happen, the Prime was obviously determined that it be confidential.