Timothy Zahn - Manta's Gift

"Oh, hell," Hesse muttered. "I hadn't even thought about that. But you're right, that probably is where he'd go."

"He hasn't reappeared, has he?"

"Not yet," Hesse said. "No one in the herd's been talking about him, either. At least, not with anything new."

"And the subvocalizer isn't picking up anything?"

"Not since Omega. Wherever he is, he's out of range."

Faraday pursed his lips. "All right," he said. "I guess the time has come. What do your backers need from me in order to stop her?"

Hesse's eyes widened briefly. Maybe he'd expected to have to do more convincing. "Well, basically, we need your public support," he said, stumbling slightly over the words. He really was nervous about all this. "A live newsnet conference, maybe, where you can officially come out against Liadof and her faction."

"Too risky," Faraday said, shaking his head. "Too many ways Liadof could cut the transmission before I even got going. Especially way out here."

"How about a recording, then?" Hesse suggested. "We could make a permchip of your statement and then transport it off Prime where she couldn't control the transmission."

"That's even worse," Faraday told him. "A permchip could be intercepted, and we'd never even know it until it was too late."

He cocked an eyebrow at Hesse. "Besides, it occurs to me that this is a bit premature. I don't even know for sure if these supporters of yours will even back me up."

"Oh, they will," Hesse assured him. "They've made that very clear."

"They may have made it clear to you" Faraday countered. "They haven't said word one to me. I can't afford to stick my neck out without a reasonable assurance that it won't get chopped off."

He smiled tightly. "Or at least, that it won't get chopped off alone," he amended. 'We must all hang together—' "

" 'Or we shall all hang separately,' " Hesse finished for him. "Benjamin Franklin; yes."

"And as true today as it was back then," Faraday said. "Looks to me like the ball's back on your side of the net."

"Yes, of course," Hesse said, getting to his feet. "All right, I'll talk to them and see what kind of guarantees they can come up with."

"Good," Faraday said. "And remind them to make it fast. We've got less than three weeks before Nemesis Six gets here."

"I will," Hesse promised. He hesitated, just noticeably, then nodded. "Good-bye, Colonel," he said, stepping to the door and knocking. "I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

Faraday nodded in return. The guard opened the door, and Hesse was gone.

With a tired sigh, Faraday turned back to his desk. So there it was: Liadof's opening shot in this insane private war of hers. A war, if she got her way, that would leave her in an even stronger position than she enjoyed right now.

And with consequences to the Qanska that would be impossible to predict. To the Qanska, and to Manta.

Or whatever it was Manta had become.

He sat down in front of his computer. For better or worse, the die was now cast. The players were taking up their positions on the chessboard, and the game was about to begin in earnest.

And in the quiet battle about to take place, a pawn could easily see as much action as a queen or a knight or a bishop.

Maybe even the pawn named Colonel Jakob Faraday.

Even taking into account the drift of the winds, Latranesto had ranged somewhat farther afield than Manta had expected him to go. Hunting for food, probably, or else avoiding predators.

Still, with three of them available to cover the likely search area, it only took a couple of days of false starts before they finally made the sundark rendezvous.

"You're back sooner than I'd expected," Latranesto commented as he and Drusni swam up to where Manta and Pranlo were waiting. "Have you come to hear the details of the vanishings?"

"That won't be necessary," Manta said. "I know what the problem is."

Even in the fading light, he could see the shocked reaction that rippled across the Counselor's fins.

"Already?" he asked incredulously.

"Already," Manta assured him, trying to sound more confident than he felt. All the way back to Centerline he'd been thinking over his theory; and while he was personally convinced he was right, it still was only a theory.

"Unbelievable," Latranesto declared, his fin tips rippling again with nervous excitement. "Well, don't hide the end of this story. Tell me."

"I will," Manta promised. "But there's another matter we need to discuss first. Tell me about your journey here, and the device you use to travel between worlds."

The undulating fin tips suddenly stopped dead in the air. "You ask for that which the humans also demanded of us," Latranesto said, his voice wary. "Why?"

"Because if I'm right about this, we'll need the humans' help in solving our problem," Manta explained, keeping his voice even and reasonable. "For that, I'll need something to bargain with."

"But you will not simply give it to them?" Latranesto asked, his voice dark with suspicion.

"Absolutely not," Manta promised. "Part of my human training was in the technique of bargaining with others in exactly this way. I intend to use all of that ability on behalf of the Qanska."

"And what if the humans take first, but then do not give?"

"Trust me," Manta said grimly. "I'll make sure we get what we need before they get what they want."

"Trust," Latranesto murmured. "To trust a human."

"No," Pranlo put in softly. "To trust Manta."

For a ninepulse there was only the whistling of the winds around them. Latranesto gazed into the gathering darkness, his tails lashing back and forth in indecision. Manta kept silent, uncomfortably aware that the whole thing could fall apart right here and now. If Latranesto wasn't even willing to tell him where the stardrive was hidden, he would certainly be unwilling to let the humans borrow it for examination.

And without such a commitment from the Qanska, there was no way Manta was going to persuade Faraday and the humans to help them out.

With a final flick of his tails, the Counselor exhaled in a rolling sigh. "Very well," he said. "The way to other worlds is in the air below Level Eight. Through what is called the Deep."

"I understand," Manta said. So the stardrive was buried deep in the atmosphere. That made sense.

"How do you get to it?"

"You swim, of course," Latranesto retorted. "What did you expect?"

"Sorry," Manta apologized. "I guess I just assumed that Level Eight was as deep as a Qanska could go. I thought you had to call the machine or something so that it would come up to meet you."

Latranesto frowned. "What machine?"

"Your stardrive, of course," Manta said, frowning back. "I thought that was what we were talking about."

"You asked how we travel between worlds," Latranesto said. "That's what I'm telling you. I said nothing about any machine."

"But—" Manta floundered, "That's what you have to use for this kind of traveling. Isn't it?"

"There is no machine, Manta," Latranesto said quietly. "That's why we can never give the humans what they demand. There is no machine, but only a place. A place within the darkness and pain and fear of the Deep."

Manta's skin was starting to crawl. What Latranesto was suggesting... "What sort of place is it?" he asked carefully. "I mean, where exactly is it? And how is it different from other places on Jupiter?"

"It is a place encompassing in and of itself," Latranesto said, his voice shifting into the sing-song pattern of Qanskan story-circle legends. One more story, Manta knew, that no doubt had been carefully deleted from his own herd's lessons. "There is pressure—great pressure—and an eerie light. There is a frightening confusion of twisting winds and multiple directions that defy the strong and overwhelm the weak. Only those of the Wise with the strength of will and the spirit of determination can reach it."