Timothy Zahn - Manta's Gift

"In that case, your group should point out that object lessons can cut both directions," Faraday said.

"If they get put on trial, all the facts of the case are going to come out. All of them; including the fact that the Qanska have a stardrive."

Hesse frowned. "What's the problem with that? No one in the Five Hundred was planning to hide it from the rest of the System."

"The problem is that you don't have it yet," Faraday told him. "And the way things are going, you're not going to have it any time soon, either. Trust me; you announce something like this to the general public, and you'd better be on the verge of trotting out a working model."

Hesse winced. "I hadn't thought about that," he said slowly. "You're right, that might be a lever we can use against her."

"You could also remind her that all three are pretty small fish," Faraday added. "She can afford to throw them back."

"I suppose it's worth a shot, anyway," Hesse said reluctantly. "All right. Anything else you want?"

"That I want?"

"As the price for your support," Hesse said. "You must want something. Right?"

"You've been in politics too long, Mr. Hesse," Faraday said, hearing an edge of disgust in his voice.

"Not everyone in this universe acts solely on the basis of what they think they can get out of it."

Hesse reddened. "I'm sorry, Colonel," he said. "I just assumed..."

"Tell me your faction's views on the Qanska," Faraday said. "What are your goals regarding their lives and safety, and our relations with them?"

Hesse pursed his lips. "To tell you the truth, I really don't know," he admitted. "I'll ask, though."

"Do that," Faraday said. "Then we'll see what kind of support I can give them." He looked around the cramped room. "Assuming that I continue to have a position to support anyone from, of course."

"I wouldn't worry about that," Hesse assured him. "If Liadof's faction didn't have the nerve to toss you aside before Omega, they certainly can't risk doing so now. As I said, you have the name and the prestige."

He stood up, a kind of jerky motion that made him look like he was on strings. "Anyway, I'd better get going."

"One more question," Faraday said. "What happened with Manta?"

Hesse blinked. "Oh. Right. Nothing much, actually. He had to go on some sort of trial to account for his actions. But after some discussion they let him off."

"How big a trial was it?" Faraday asked. "Who was there?"

"I didn't ask," Hesse said. "I can if you want me to."

"This is all coming from Mr. Beach, I presume?"

Hesse hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, but please don't mention that to anyone else," he said. "He's still more or less in Liadof's good graces, and it wouldn't do to have her know he's been talking outside the Contact Room."

"I understand," Faraday said. "And you say Manta was allowed to leave?"

"Yes, but not alone," Hesse said. "This time they gave him two baby-sitters: one male, one female. I guess they don't want to lose track of him again. Last we knew, they were headed south."

" 'Last we knew?' " Faraday asked, frowning. "Aren't we still watching him?"

Hesse shook his head. "The spy probe's low on fuel," he said. "Liadof decided we'd do better to leave it near the herd and keep an eye on them instead."

"Especially since Manta isn't likely to be useful to her anymore?" Faraday suggested acidly.

"Something like that," Hesse conceded. "Sorry."

With an effort, Faraday refrained from cursing. "What about Drusni? Is she all right?"

Hesse shrugged helplessly. "As far as we know, she's still alive and undergoing treatment. But she's gone into seclusion, outside the spy probe's range."

"Figures," Faraday muttered. "Do me a favor, will you? Let me know the minute you find out anything about her."

"Sure," Hesse promised. "And I'll get in touch with my supporters right away and see if we can get those treason charges dropped."

"And find out what their plans are for the Qanska," Faraday reminded him.

"Right." Hesse stepped to the door and rapped twice. "I'll let you know as soon as I hear something."

The door slid open. "Thank you," Faraday said. "I'll see you later."

Hesse nodded. "Good-bye, Colonel."

The door slid shut behind him. Faraday listened for a moment as his footsteps retreated down the corridor. Then, shifting position, he stretched out on the bunk. Lacing his fingers behind his head, he stared up at the plain gray ceiling.

So it had started. He'd known it would eventually, given the sheer scope of the Omega Probe disaster. Liadof was undoubtedly fighting for her career here; and she struck him as being one hell of a fighter.

He was rather surprised to find Hesse involved. But in retrospect that made sense, too.

But at least things were in motion. All he could do now was wait, and watch for a chance to snatch something good out of the political chaos. For himself, and for McCollum, Sprenkle, and Milligan.

And, if he was very lucky, maybe even for Manta.

Ahead, in the gathering gloom, Manta could see a long, thick cloud of dark blue drifting on the wind. "How about here?" he suggested. "This looks like a good place to stop for the sundark."

"You must be joking," the big Protector beside him snorted. "You know how many predators are probably hanging around a run of breekis that size?"

"Especially Sivra," the Nurturer added. "Three or four different packs can sometimes hide in a run that big, just waiting for an unwary Qanska to come close."

"So let's not be unwary," Manta argued. "I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry," the Protector said with a sniff. "We'll find some place a little safer to eat."

"Of course I'm always hungry," Manta muttered under his breath. "That's because you never want to stop to eat."

"What was that?" the Protector challenged.

Manta grimaced. "Nothing."

Giving the breekis a wide berth, they continued on. And for probably the ninetieth time in the past two ninedays, Manta decided he hated this.

Hated this; and hated them.

Their names, which they'd finally and grudgingly given him, were Gryntaro and Wirkani. They were apparently not a bonded couple, but putting together bits and pieces of their conversation Manta had concluded that they had nevertheless been swimming together for quite a long time. From the look of Gryntaro's lumpy body, it was clear he'd gotten into a lot of fights with both Vuuka and Sivra.

From the smooth lines of Wirkani's, it was also clear she'd been equally successful in avoiding them.

"Here we go," Wirkani said, flipping her tails to the right. "See? A nice little run of ranshay, just waiting for us."

"I see it," Manta said, making a face as he looked at the brown smudge drifting in the wind. It was ranshay, all right, which meant they wouldn't go to sleep hungry. But without any of the silvery-blue jeptris to spice it up, it was going to be a disappointing meal.

"You might be a little more grateful," Gryntaro rumbled as he angled toward the run.

"Sure thing," Manta muttered. "Watch me being grateful."

"Come on, Manta," Wirkani said encouragingly. "Don't mind Gryntaro. There's plenty for all of us."

Manta sighed. Gryntaro was the epitome of the rough-and-tumble, no-nonsense type of Qanska, the sort who would be instantly and unanimously put in charge if the Counselors and Leaders and Wise ever decided to organize an army and take on the Vuuka in a straight-up battle.

He also had all the compassion of Pakra leavings, and if he had even a breath of humor between his fin tips Manta had yet to spot it. The sort of Qanska you'd want beside you in trouble, but probably wouldn't invite to go off eating with you.

Wirkani, in contrast, was almost a complete opposite. She was unfailingly cheerful, to the point where she practically drove Manta insane sometimes, and had a tendency to mother him that was rather embarrassing.