Norton, Andre - Brother To Shadows

"There was some dissatisfaction, of course; there could not help being, given the past history. But it was growing less and less. Then there came the Great Ingathering.

"All the clans which had been warring were invited to this. War was already a thing of the past and it was to be a peaceful celebration. In the midst of the festivities Fer s'Rang died. It was also a peaceful death, expected since he had been ailing for some time, though it was accepted that the exertion he had been put to in the last weeks of his life had told on him. He fell dead while receiving the homage of the last of the families who had caused him trouble.

"His second-in-command at once took over and it seemed for a space that there would be no change in what Fer s'Rang had started. However, the government began to tighten here and there, to dominate quietly, to take over. Now Tssek is a tight dictatorship and from all rumors a very unhappy world.

"The present Holder keeps aloof, as far as I have heard, from any off-world contact. And, as you know, only when a world is one of the Great Council can there be any examination of its internal problems. Tssek has never applied for such an inclusion. The rumor is that Fer s'Rang was on the verge of it when he died.

"There is a good amount of trade with Tssek. They provide a number of very much needed minerals as well as manufactured goods. But off-worlder contact is limited to the spaceport, as it is on any non-Council world, even as it was on Asborgan. There is good reason to believe that the Holder is anything but beloved by his present subjects. However, that is not for off-worlders to meddle with."

"But this Holder wants contact with you—" said Jofre slowly.

"Just sssoooo—and why? Not for anything I think I would have an interest in," Zurzal returned.

Jofre's movement was so sudden that it might have been intended to deceive the eye. The nose of his sidearm appeared on the surface of the table, pointing past the Zacathan at the screens provided by two of the potted plants which were large and thick enough to be considered bushes and far too good a cover. The Shadow was on his feet in one supple movement. Though the eyes of his companion glittered and his frill stirred Zurzal made no move himself. Instead he raised his voice a fraction.

"Company expecting welcome moves in the open," he stated, then swung around in turn, though he produced no weapon of his own.

Their answer came from another direction: a man advanced into the open with the casualness of one moving about his proper business. He was fully humanoid— perhaps even Terran stock—but small. And he lacked the heavy browning of skin developed by a spacer. Against the high collar of his tunic his chin was jowly, and his eyes were small, set in darkened pouches of unhealthy grayish-appearing skin.

They were half-shadowed by the bill of a uniform cap generously embroidered with glittering thread, a matching device worked also on that high collar, and modifications of it up the sleeves of his tunic. The color of that tunic was a dead black, as were his tight breeches and the boots beneath. He also sported a wide belt from which hung, close to hand, a blaster sheath.

Jofre's second move had taken him crabwise, so that he was now in a position to defend the Zacathan from both this newcomer and that bush screen behind which his alert senses told him there was at least one more lurker.

Slowly the uniformed man smiled. "You are to be commended, Learned One, on the alertness of your guard. Harse"—the bush in the pots shook a fraction—"come out, man. We have no quarrel with the Learned One. On the contrary we come with open hands." And he held up both of his, palm out, demonstrably empty indeed.

From behind the screen of vegetation moved now a second man, much taller than his officer but wearing the same black clothing, though this was plain except for a shoulder patch in the jagged form of a red lightning bolt. He walked a little stiffly, holding his hands carefully away from a belt on which there were a number of loops all well occupied by rods of various sizes and lengths.

The officer clicked his fingers and Harse, if that was the subordinate's name, wheeled so that his back was to the three of them, forming a barrier between the table and the trio now by it and the outer world.

The Tssekians might be playing the part of being harmless in the most straightforward forms their culture recognized; however, Jofre did not relax. His trained senses could not pick up hints of anyone else in concealment. However, he had little idea of what weapons that festoon of belt equipment might represent and he was not to be caught off guard. Nor did he retreat from his position of guardianship for his employer as the alien officer moved closer to the table.

"I am addressing Sopt s'Qu?" Zurzal had leaned back in his seat with the appearance of one fully at ease. Yet Jofre sensed that the Zacathan in his own way was as wary as he was.

"News travels fast—" Was there or was there not a note of irritation in the other's comment? "Yes, I am Horde Commander Sopt s'Qu at your service, Learned One." And he sketched, so neglectedly that it bordered on an insult, a salute. "You are doubtless one who does not wish to waste time in formalities, thus I will say plainly that I have business to discuss, Learned One, a proposition to benefit us both."

Zurzal, with a flick of his good hand, indicated the chair from which Jofre had arisen. His oathed took two steps back, still in a position to view both the Tssekian officer and the firmly planted back of his subordinate, now playing screen for this meeting.

Sopt s'Qu's thin lips still sketched a half smile but he plainly was not pleased with Zurzal's greeting. He was undoubtedly used to a more receptive audience when he spoke of business. But he seated himself and was at a slight disadvantage with the greater bulk of the Zacathan looming at the other side of the small table.

"Since we have set aside formality," he continued, "I shall come directly to the matter. My Great Leader," his hand flapped up again as if he were saluting, "was informed that you were to be found here. He also knows that you have suffered from the refusal of your peers to believe in your splendid achievement of past retrieval. You seek now for an occasion—and a site—to demonstrate the value of your discovery. You are offered such with every facility which you may desire—you need only ask—"

"Most interesting." Zurzal's faint hiss was still to be detected. "And what moves the Great One to such a generous offer?"

"Belief in you, Learned One," came the prompt reply, "and in your discovery. You wish to prove that you can show the past; this is the fiftieth year of Our Leader's rule, of the sad death of Fer s'Rang. We can offer you an opportunity which will bring you fame, not only planetwide, but which will reach the stars, convince all doubters you can do what you claim to do. The Holder invites you to Tssek, to install your time scanner at Marlik and bring back the death day of Fer s'Rang. At the moment of your retrieval of this great event there shall be ready a planetwide broadcast to carry the scene to all of our people. Can you ask for more in the way of making known the value of what you have discovered?"

"Your Illustrious Holder must have heard also," Zurzal said, "that this discovery of mine is far from being perfected. That the former trials had no more than a very fleeting success. I can promise no better results and because of that I cannot, of course, accept this offer. Were the Holder to arrange such an impressive audience and occasion and then there was a failure—it would be more than a disappointment—"

"You are too modest, Learned One. Our Leader has made a close study of your achievements in the past. He believes that you are far nearer to complete success than your words now warrant. And he will see that you are well rewarded—"