And a lower altitude would also limit the missiles' range. "Activate two of the missiles," he ordered. "Fire the first at optimum angle when you can't hold this altitude any more. Fire the second at your best guess for farthest range after that point. Fuse them both for above-ground detonation-we want something they'll be able to see."
"Understood."
The screeching and jostling continued to worsen as the flight began to take on the characteristics of an entertainment-park thrill ride. Pheylan split his attention between the displays and the status board, the back of his mind working out contingency plans depending on how far they got and whether it appeared likely that the Peacekeepers might see either of his distress missiles.
And then, with 850 klicks to go, a new sound interjected itself into the growing cacophony: the distinctive bubbling hiss of a missile being launched. "First Shrike is away," Max announced. "I'd like to try decreasing our altitude. That may help with the airfoil reactivation."
"Go ahead," Pheylan said. "Try not to hit anything."
The fueler took on a downward pitch as they dropped toward the ground. "It doesn't look from here like it's helping," Pheylan said, watching the status board.
"Not from here, either," Max admitted. "I don't think there's anything more I can do, Commander. I can nurse them along a little farther; but when they go, they'll go."
And without at least some airfoil capability it would be all but impossible to land the fueler without splattering it all over the landscape. "Understood," Pheylan said. "Fire that second missile and start looking for a place to set down."
"I have a possible location directly ahead," Max said as the second bubbling hiss briefly sounded. A flashing circle appeared on one of the displays, the range finder marking it as forty klicks away. "It looks like a fire clearing on the side of a low hill," the computer went on. "Plenty of visibility if you choose to wait for rescue; conversely, the immediate route toward the northeast appears reasonable if you instead choose to begin walking."
"What, no restaurant?"
"Excuse me?"
"Never mind," Pheylan sighed. Sometimes the parameters that a parasentient computer decided to focus on could get a little strange. "Just concentrate on getting us down in one piece. The nonessentials we can sort out later."
"It was just barely in range of our spotters," Crane said, tapping a spot with his finger as Holloway and Takara joined him at the map table. "But it was definitely a Peacekeeper missile. Gasperi says either a Sperling or an old Shrike."
"Any idea where it came from?" Holloway said.
"Southwest somewhere," Crane said. "He says that if it was a Sperling, it could have made maybe eight hundred klicks. The Shrike could only have gone six or seven."
"Six to eight hundred klicks," Takara muttered. "Well, that certainly narrows it down."
"Sorry, sir, it's the best we can do," Crane apologized.
"I know." Takara looked at Holloway. "So are we going to go take a look?"
"We don't have much choice," Holloway said, running his fingers through his hair. "Stray missiles are usually either misfires or distress signals. Either way, it says there's a Peacekeeper out there who needs help. Crane, what's vehicle status?"
"We've got an aircar and cargo carrier on standby," Crane said. "I also took the liberty of telling Duggen to pull together a team."
"Sounds good," Holloway said. "Go ahead and confirm the orders."
"Yes, sir."
"You think we should send Bethmann with them?" Takara suggested.
Holloway shook his head. "I'm not going to risk our only combat-capable Corvine. Not even if that was Admiral Rudzinski stuck out there." He rubbed a finger across his lower lip. "I wonder how he got in past the Zhirrzh warships."
"Sensor-stealthing, probably," Takara said. "Or else he just meshed in beneath them while they were all looking in the other direction."
"Pretty sloppy work on their part," Holloway said, a nebulous thought beginning to form in the back of his mind. If the Zhirrzh warships really weren't paying attention up there... "Let's hope he's brought some spare supplies or fuel with him."
"And that we can get to it before the Zhirrzh do," Takara added. "Exploding a missile in front of God and everybody kind of ruins the whole point of sneaking in."
"Maybe," Holloway said. "Have the Zhirrzh at the village reacted yet?"
Takara peered at the status display. "No one's reported any troop or vehicle movements," Takara said. "Why, you think they might not have noticed the blast?"
"Or else didn't understand its significance," Holloway said. "In fact, I'd put it more strongly: if I were their commander, I'd wonder if a useless explosion like that was an enemy trick to distract his attention while we hit him from another side."
"Possibly," Takara conceded. "Or he might think it was an accident."
"Either way, it keeps his attention here instead of wherever the downed ship is," Holloway said. "And if we're lucky he won't know otherwise until Duggen's team heads out."
Takara nodded. "At which point it becomes a race."
"Right," Holloway said grimly. "Let's just make damn sure we win it."
"Here," the Elder said, jabbing his tongue at a point on the map. "This is where the spacecraft came down."
"Rough country," Thrr-mezaz commented, eyeing the aerial photos of the region. "You're sure it didn't crash?"
The Elder nodded and vanished. "What about that second explosion?" Thrr-mezaz asked Klnn-vavgi.
"Again, no damage," Klnn-vavgi said. "At least none the Elders were able to see. We could get a closer look if you'd let me send a Stingbird over."
"No Stingbirds," Thrr-mezaz said firmly, gazing at the map and trying to think. TheRequisite had tracked two separate explosive missiles from the Human-Conqueror spacecraft, both fired roughly this direction. No apparent damage from either missile, which implied they weren't meant as attacks. Signals?
The Elder returned. "The technics say they cannot be absolutely certain the spacecraft landed safely," he reported. "Their orbit had nearly carried them out of view of the area by the time the spacecraft landed."
And they would continue to be out of view of the area for another tentharc. "Understood," Thrr-mezaz said.
"I take it, then, you don't think the explosives were a precursor to an attack?" Klnn-vavgi asked.
"I think it more likely they were a signal," Thrr-mezaz told him. "The Human-Conquerors in the mountains couldn't possibly have seen his spacecraft come in. Knowing he was going down, he had to find some way to alert them to his presence."
"All right, I'll accept that," Klnn-vavgi said. "But we still need to check it out, don't we?"
Thrr-mezaz flicked his tongue thoughtfully, trying to put himself in the enemy commander's place. A Human-Conqueror spacecraft was down, and he'd undoubtedly be sending a rescue team as soon as he had one put together. If he saw Stingbirds heading that direction, of course, he'd put it together even faster. Possibly even send his Copperhead warriors along for extra protection.
But if he saw the Zhirrzh sitting here, apparently oblivious to it all, he might not be in quite so much of a hurry....
"Message to Ship Commander Phmm-klof," he said, beckoning to the Elder. "I'd like him to send a transport to pick up any survivors from the Human-Conqueror spacecraft and bring them here to me."
"I obey." The Elder vanished.
"I wouldn't expect much if I were you," Klnn-vavgi warned. "It sounds like Phmm-klof's in a major snit over having to sit there and watch that spacecraft come in without being able to stop it. I doubt he's in a favor-granting mood."
"We'll see if we can change that," Thrr-mezaz said.
Behind them the door opened and Thrr-gilag came in. "I got your message," he told his brother, breathing hard. "What's this about a Human spacecraft?"
"It came down right here," Thrr-mezaz said, indicating the spot on the map. "About seven hundred thirteen thoustrides away."
"Survivors?"
The Elder from theRequisite reappeared. Thrr-mezaz motioned him to wait. "We think so," he told Thrr-gilag. "I've asked Ship Commander Phmm-klof to send a transport for a closer look."
Thrr-gilag nodded, his tail spinning with barely restrained excitement as he looked at the map. "What about pictures?"
"We don't have any here," Klnn-vavgi said. "I imagine theRequisite has some, but they're currently out of direct-link laser range."
"Yes," Thrr-gilag said, his mind clearly already elsewhere. "Thrr-mezaz, we need to get a survivor from that spacecraft. My whole theory of Human aggression hinges on there being measurable metabolic changes when two or more Humans are in close proximity. We don't have any of that sort of data."
"I know," Thrr-mezaz said, watching the Elder out of the corner of his eye. "And I know how vitally important it is to the war effort. Didn't you tell me the Overclan Prime himself said that?"
"Yes, he did," Thrr-gilag confirmed, frowning slightly at his brother. Thrr-mezaz blinked twice, the old childhood signal they'd used when trying to con their parents into doing something, and Thrr-gilag's face cleared. "Yes, he said that this was our single best chance of finding a weakness we could exploit," he said, clearly on track now. "Maybe even turn the whole war around."
"We can hope so." Thrr-mezaz looked at the Elder, still waiting to deliver Ship Commander Phmm-klof's reply. "What did the ship commander say?"
"A beat, if you please, Commander," the Elder muttered, and vanished again.
"Nicely done," Klnn-vavgi murmured approvingly. "The Ghuu'rr clan absolutely adores the Overclan Prime."
"It was true, too," Thrr-gilag said.
"All the better."
The Elder reappeared. "Ship Commander Phmm-klof has ordered a transport and warrior team to be prepared," he announced. "They'll leave orbit as soon as possible."
"Good," Thrr-mezaz said. "Warn them to stay out of sight of the Human-Conqueror stronghold."
"I obey."
He vanished. "You'd better go prepare for new visitors, Second," Thrr-mezaz said to Klnn-vavgi. "With good luck we'll have them back here within a tentharc."
23
It was a pleasure, Parlimin Jacy VanDiver thought as he accepted a second glass of cherry claretee, to finally find someone who knew how to treat a NorCoord Parlimin with the proper deference and honor. A far cry from those pompous idiots back in Parliament itself, who whispered about him behind his back in the offices and private meeting nooks. A far cry even from the members of his own staff, who might fear him, but whose devotion was as thin and bendable as their monthly pay chits.
But here it was different, as different as fog from sunshine. And with all the frustrations and heavy responsibilities of his office, as welcome as a breath of fresh air.
"I trust the beverage is to your liking," Paallikko said as the Mrachani who'd delivered the second glass scuttled respectfully away with the dregs of the first.
"It's quite adequate," VanDiver said, sipping at the claretee and the icy tangyslush that floated on top of it. "Any word yet on Bronski or Cavanagh?"
"Not yet, I'm afraid," Paallikko said, his voice laced with genuine regret. He peered briefly at the terminal on the low table beside him and shook his head. "They're still searching the hotel records. I apologize greatly for the delay."
"Quite all right," VanDiver assured him, waving a hand in dismissal. One could afford to be magnanimous when those around were clearly trying so hard to please. "Actually, I should be the one to apologize to you. One of my agents was supposed to be keeping tabs on Cavanagh, but like an idiot managed to lose him. I appreciate your efforts here-this matter is hardly your concern."
"On the contrary, Parlimin VanDiver," Paallikko said smoothly. "Any matter that troubles a man of your rank and power is most certainly of concern to the Mrachanis. Tell me, have you any idea what sort of scheme Lord Cavanagh might be planning?"
"All I know is that if it involves Cavanagh, it's something that needs looking into," VanDiver said, glowering at his drink. "You have no idea what the man is like."
"Actually, I believe I do," Paallikko said. "Though of course not nearly as well as you do. I had occasion to cross lives with him when he visited Mra-mig a little over three weeks ago."
"Really," VanDiver said. "He was creating trouble, I presume?"
"A little," the Mrachani said, his voice almost purring. "Though not so much as he'd perhaps hoped."
VanDiver grunted. "That's Cavanagh, all right. Mra-mig was where he bumped into Bronski, too, wasn't it?"
"Yes, it was," Paallikko murmured. "We are most grateful to you for bringing Liaison Bronski's presence here to our attention, Parlimin VanDiver."
He glanced again at his terminal. "Ah-the hotel search has been completed," he said. "No information on either Liaison Bronski or Lord Cavanagh. They're beginning a search now of vehicle rentals."
VanDiver nodded, glancing surreptitiously at his watch. Paallikko noticed the movement. "I'm sorry this is taking so long, Parlimin," he apologized. "If you'd prefer to return to your hotel, I could phone you when we locate them."
"Thank you," VanDiver said, inclining his head to the other. "Unfortunately, I won't have time to properly appreciate your hospitality. My duties back on Earth require me to return as soon as I have Cavanagh in hand. If it's all right with you, I'll just wait here until you locate him, then go wherever he is and pick him up."
"I would be honored by your presence," Paallikko said. "I'm quite sure it won't be much longer."
"The transport's rolled to a stop now," Kolchin said, his elbows braced on the edges of the aircar's window as he pressed the binoculars to his eyes. "Forward and cargo ramps are coming down."
"Do we need to get a little closer?" Cavanagh asked.
"We shouldn't even be this close," Bronski said. "If anyone's still keeping tabs on us, they're probably already wondering."
"They're starting to disembark now," Kolchin reported. "Three... four... five... five in the first group, all Mrachanis. The hover carriers are on the move-looks like they're forming a line over at the cargo ramp."
There was a sudden whooshing sound from above them. "Lose 'em, Kolchin," Bronski snapped, glancing up. "We've got company."
Kolchin dropped the binoculars out of sight into his lap, just as an aircar swooped past overhead and settled into a parallel course to their left. "I think that's the same one as before," Cavanagh said.
"You're right," Bronski agreed. "Same two Mrachanis; but their Bhurt's not with them anymore. What's that they're holding up to the window?"
"Looks like a plate," Cavanagh said, taking the binoculars from Kolchin and peering through them. It was indeed a plate, with a hastily scrawled message on its display: