Thrr-gilag felt his tail twitch. "I know that. It's a risk I'm going to have to take."
Thrr-mezaz hissed with frustration, looking over at Klnn-dawan-a. "Aren't you going to say anything, Klnn-dawan-a?" he demanded.
"What would I say?" Klnn-dawan-a said, her voice soft and filled with distant dread. "You can see he's made up his mind. Besides, you know as well as he does that it's the only way."
"I don't accept that," Thrr-mezaz growled. "Not yet."
"You've got the rest of the latearc to come up with an alternative," Thrr-gilag said. "But if we haven't come up with anything else by premidarc, I think we'll have to go with this plan. In fact, it might be pushing it to wait even that long-we don't know what's happening on Oaccanv that has the Overclan Prime worried enough to call us like this."
"We're waiting until premidarc whether the Prime likes it or not," Thrr-mezaz said firmly. "I'm not going to try sending a transport into enemy territory in the dark. Not even a slow, unarmed one."
"We need the time for preparation, anyway," Thrr-gilag agreed. "Can you have someone get some supplies together for me? Especially some food-I don't know if I'm really ready to try Human cuisine just yet."
"I'll take care of it," Thrr-mezaz promised in a resigned tone. "We'll also need to come up with a good excuse for why you're doing this."
"Perhaps you can be taking information back to the Human-Conquerors about Sergeant Janovetz," Klnn-dawan-a suggested quietly. "Proof that he's alive and well. That might also help in their treatment of you."
"Good idea," Thrr-gilag said. "Thrr-mezaz?"
"I'll take care of that, too," his brother said.
"All right, then." Thrr-gilag got to his feet, trying to keep his tail motion steady. He didn't like this any better than the others did. Far less than they did, actually-he could still feel the residual stiffness in his neck where Pheylan Cavanagh had gripped him during the Human's escape. The Humans were aliens, with the fundamental unpredictability that that implied.
But it had to be done. That was the summation line: it had to be done. "If you'll excuse me, then, I'd better go get some rest. It's going to be a very busy fullarc."
"I'll come with you," Klnn-dawan-a said, standing up and stepping to his side. "At least walk with you to your quarters."
And to say their last farewell before his arrival at the Thrr-family shrine? But that wasn't something Thrr-gilag really wanted to think about. He doubted Klnn-dawan-a wanted to, either. "Certainly," he said. "Sleep well, Thrr-mezaz. I'll see you in the premidarc."
18
"All right, easy now," Aric said, standing well back out of the way as the four bulky Yycroman males hefted the NorCoord 110 mm cannon and swung it up onto their shoulders. The sheer size of the cannon implied a weight somewhere on the far side of two hundred kilograms, and Aric wanted to be ready to run if the Yycromae lost their grip on the thing.
Fortunately, they didn't. Grunting strange alien sounds in unison, they heaved the cannon up and shoulder-pressed it into place beneath the stubby airfoil wing of the freighter towering above them. The other two males waiting there on the makeshift scaffold were ready, and with half a dozen brief showers of sparks the cannon was spot-welded into place.
"Great," Aric said, breathing a little easier as he cautiously approached from the side and peered up at the welds. They wouldn't handle any really serious stress, of course, but they'd be more than adequate to hold the cannon in place for the twenty minutes it would take the adhesive to cure. "Okay, now you need to connect the cables-those ones coming out of the wing-to those input slots there."
One of the Yycromae on the scaffold grunted, and they set to work. "Who's got the mu-plus shield?" Aric asked, looking around.
[Here,] another Yycroma said, stepping forward with the soft metallic material in his hand.
"Toss it up to them," Aric instructed. "You, up there-make sure you get a double layer wrapped around every exposed part of the cables before you seal it."
A movement to Aric's right caught the corner of his eye, and he turned as a Yycroman female stepped up to him, the tooled half cloak of a midlevel government official rippling as she walked. [Aric Cavanagh,] she greeted him, her black eyes studying the operation going on above their heads. [Have you progress to report?]
"I should have some soon," Aric told her. "As soon as the cables and mu-plus magnetic shield are in place, they can run the control module through its paces. The shield should fix the phase-interference problems."
[And then?]
Aric gestured upward. "A little armor-plate conduit over the cables, and this one will be finished. Then we just have to go back and correct the three that were done wrong and make sure the workers add this step to the procedure from now on."
The female was still gazing upward. [Will your assistance be needed further?] she asked.
Aric frowned at her, a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. "What do you mean?"
[You have been of great service to the Yycromae,] she said. [I ask again: will your assistance be needed further?]
Aric braced himself. An ominous-sounding question, made downright sinister by the cold Yycroman delivery. "Not really," he conceded. "I could certainly be of further help, but I'm not really necessary. Your people should be able to handle everything from here on."
[Thank you,] she said, lowering her gaze at last to him. [Please come with me.]
With the requisite two males marching behind as guards, the female led the way out of the underground hangar, back through the maze of corridors, and up the stairway into the government building where he'd been taken when he'd first arrived on Phormbi three days ago. Two hallways later the female stopped beside a door, this one guarded by four males. [The ci Yyatoor awaits you,] she said. [Farewell, Aric Cavanagh.]
She turned and left, the escort leaving with her. One of the guards swung open the door; swallowing, Aric went inside.
The room was large and ornate, lavishly stocked with both furniture and museum-class art objects. Seated in a carved chair in the center, dressed to the hilt in her ceremonial helmet and tooled cloak, was Klyveress ci Yyatoor. Seated in a pair of human-sized chairs facing her, their heads turned to look in Aric's direction, were two young men. [He is here, as I promised,] Klyveress said, gesturing toward him. [Aric Cavanagh, these human males have come to Phormbi seeking you.]
"Really," Aric said, stepping forward as both men got to their feet. Offhand, he couldn't remember ever seeing either of them before. "What can I do for you?"
"My name's Daschka; Commonwealth Diplomatic Service," one of them identified himself, offering a shimmery ID card for inspection. "This is my associate, Cho Ming. You've led us quite a chase, Mr. Cavanagh."
"I was unaware I'd been leading anyone on any chases," Aric said, glancing casually at the ID and handing it back. Giving the card a long, suspicious examination might be taken as an insult, and he didn't have the expertise to spot a forgery anyway. Besides, Klyveress had undoubtedly already had the two men checked out.
"A figure of speech only," Cho Ming assured him. "Actually, Mr. Cavanagh, we were becoming worried about you."
Aric lifted his eyebrows. "Really. You personally, or the whole Commonwealth diplomatic service?"
Daschka's expression didn't even twitch. "But we've found you, and you're safe, and that's what really matters, isn't it?"
"I've always thought so," Aric said. "If that's all, I trust you'll excuse me...?"
Daschka held up a finger. "Not quite, Mr. Cavanagh. Actually, we're here to bring you back to Edo."
Aric glanced at Klyveress, but the impassive crocodilian face wasn't giving anything away. "Why?"
"Purely routine," Cho Ming said. "Some administrative details of the inquiry got buried, and you left Edo before the bureaucrats noticed their files were incomplete. Bureaucrats get upset over things like that."
"I'm terribly sorry for the bureaucrats," Aric said, eyeing them with sudden suspicion. Daschka's ID card had listed his current service post as the Mra colony world of Mra-ect, which if Aric remembered correctly was also where Admiral Rudzinski had said Petr Bronski was based.
Only he knew now that Bronski wasn't a Commonwealth diplomat at all, but a senior officer in NorCoord Military Intelligence. Were Daschka and Cho Ming two of his operatives?
"We knew you'd understand," Daschka said. "If you'll come with us, we have a ship waiting."
"Why can't I just fill out the forms here?" Aric asked. "You brought everything with you, didn't you?"
"I'm afraid it's a little more complicated than that," Cho Ming said apologetically. "The fact is that we have to go back to Edo. It won't take long, I assure you."
"But I'm needed here," Aric protested. "I'm doing important work for the Yycromae, work vital to the war effort against the Conquerors." He looked at Klyveress. "The ci Yyatoor can vouch for that."
Klyveress shifted position on her chair. [I am told your work here is finished,] she said. [You may leave with your fellow humans.]
"But-"I don't want to leave with them! But there was no point in saying the words. Whatever pressure Daschka had brought to bear, diplomatic or otherwise, Klyveress had clearly caved in to it.
[Your service has been greatly appreciated, Aric Cavanagh,] Klyveress said gravely. [The Yycroman people will not soon forget.]
"No, of course not," Aric murmured. He'd served his purpose and now was being cold-bloodedly thrown to the wolves. "I won't forget either."
A groundcar and Yycroman driver were waiting outside the building to drive the three humans back to the spaceport. The trip was reasonably short, and very quiet.
Daschka's ship turned out to be a slightly run-down-looking old Wolfgant schooner-class spacecraft with the nameHappenstance etched in curly script at the bow. They arrived to find Aric's luggage stacked neatly at the foot of the boarding ramp, and the Yycroman spaceport workers just finishing up the preflight servicing. "You've got to hand it to the Yycromae," Cho Ming commented as they helped carry the luggage up the ramp. "On straight-line efficiency they'll beat anyone hands down."
"That's one of the things that makes them dangerous," Daschka said sourly as he sealed the hatchway behind them. "Efficiency combined with sheer bonehead stubbornness is a bad combination."
"Yeah." Cho Ming threw a speculative look at Aric. "Speaking of stubbornness, you notice anything funny about this scenario? We show up and ask for Cavanagh, and the ci Yyatoor just gives him up. No blustering about sovereign rights, no demand for papers or procedures-nothing. She just gives him up."
"I noticed," Daschka agreed, giving Aric a speculative look of his own. "You wear out your welcome, Cavanagh?"
"Not that I know of," Aric said. "Maybe she just gets nervous with NorCoord Military Intelligence people around."
Daschka smiled tightly. "Bright boy," he acknowledged. "What did she do, show you Bronski's signature on her copy of that statement of understanding your father ramrodded through? Whereis the honorable Lord Cavanagh, by the way?"
Aric shook his head. "I don't know."
Daschka grunted. "Neither did the ci Yyatoor. Or so she claimed."
"Maybe that's why she gave us this one," Cho Ming suggested. "A bone to keep us happy while she keeps Lord Cavanagh under wraps somewhere."
"As far as I know, he's not here," Aric said. He hesitated- "If you find out differently, I'd be very interested in knowing it."
"I'll bet you would," Daschka said. "Well, let's see if we can find out. Stow your stuff in number-three cabin, then come up to the flight deck."
The flight deck was something of a surprise to Aric when he arrived. The forward part, with the wraparound canopy and piloting/navigational control boards, was about the right size for a schooner-class ship. But the aft section, which normally included only the engineering and life-support monitors, had been expanded to nearly four times the usual size and equipped with a dizzying array of electronic equipment. "Welcome to NorCoord Intelligence, Mobile," Cho Ming said from the depths of one of the three seats in the aft section. "Your first visit, I take it?"
"Yes," Aric said, looking around. About half the equipment he vaguely recognized, or at least could take a guess at its function. The rest he didn't have a clue about.
"Probably your last, too," Daschka called back from the pilot's station. "Needless to say, it all comes under the Official Secrets Regulations. Sit down and strap in-we've got clearance to lift. And don't touch anything."
Aric chose the chair closest to Cho Ming. "Have you found out anything?"
"Only that the Yycromae are suddenly running around like beavers at a bark sale," Cho Ming said, frowning at the displays around him as his fingers danced across one of three keyboards arranged around his seat. "A lot of communications traffic zipping back and forth around the planet-probably ten times the amount a place with Phormbi's population ought to have. Most of it encoded, too-looks like government codes. Something's got them stirred up, but good."
With a lurch the ship started forward. "Maybe your leaving here spooked them," Aric suggested.
"We only spook people when we arrive, Cavanagh," Daschka called back dryly. "Not when we leave."
"Lots of vehicle movement, too," Cho Ming said. "Mostly up by... hmm."
"What?" Aric asked.
Cho Ming was peering at one of his displays. "Daschka, remember that big refitting area the Yycromae had set up over at the Northern Wooded Steppes?"
"Where we found Lord Cavanagh when we were here last? Sure."
"The Yycromae seem to be emptying it."
The ship lifted off the ground and angled upward. "You sure?" Daschka asked.
"Pretty sure," Cho Ming said. "It's over the horizon, but I'm getting enough secondary leakage bouncing off the ionosphere for an eighty-count signature ID. I'd say there are at least fifty ships either gearing up for lift or already on the move."
Daschka swore, a brittle Russian curse. "So much for Yycroman guarantees. I'll bet ten against five they're off to attack the Mrachanis."
"Looks like it," Cho Ming agreed. "Anything we can do about it?"
"Not really," Daschka conceded. "We can send a message skitter on ahead with a warning, but there's not a lot the Mrachanis can do to get ready for them."
"What about Peacekeeper forces?" Aric asked, a cold rage aching in his throat. A rage, and a deep shame. He'd seen those guarantees, too. His father had signed them. He himself had helped arm those ships.
And now the Yycromae were heading out to continue a war that had lain dormant for a quarter century.