"Fuji's got your bag and some other supplies over there," Holloway said, nodding toward where Major Takara was standing watch over the whole operation. "Two of the tubes mixed in with the analgesics are phonies; you'll know them by the fake chemical names. They contain a low-yield binary explosive that you should be able to use to break out of whatever building they lock you into. Janovetz will know how to use them."
Melinda grimaced. "I understand. Any other surprises?"
"Yes." Holloway hesitated. "We've put in a vital-signs monitor for you. Among the usual electronics we've added a high-power white-noise radio transmitter."
Melinda stopped. "You'vewhat?" she hissed. "Are you out of your mind? That's their idea of the ultimate weapon-what if they catch me with it?"
"They'll never know it's there," Holloway assured her. "The whole casing's metal-their Elders won't be able to even look inside."
"That's so very comforting," Melinda said icily, ashamed and enraged both by this betrayal. She'd given him all this Elderdeath information in good faith, assuming he would use it to help stop this war. Instead he'd taken Prr't-zevisti's gesture of trust and turned it back into a weapon. "Excuse me, please, my brother's waiting for me."
She pulled away from him, stalking off alone across the uneven ground toward the Zhirrzh aircar. Holloway made no move to follow, undoubtedly the smartest thing he could do. That stupid, rigid, military mind of his-
"Doctor-Cavan-a?"
Melinda jerked as if she'd touched a hot electrode, sheer momentum keeping her feet moving. Nothing was visible in the sunlight; but it had been Prr't-zevisti's voice.
Except that the configuration chamber had been sealed behind them...
"They have brought me another cutting," the Elder hissed. "It is resting on the box with other items. The box is metal-I cannot return to myfsss from there. Can you move it?"
Melinda bit at the inside of her cheek. The Zhirrzh had finished emptying his pouch now and had taken a few steps back toward the aircar. His collection of artifacts was sitting in plain sight on the crate almost directly ahead of her, being ignored by the Peacekeeper squad. It would be easy enough to reach over as she passed and pick it up.
Except that Prr't-zevisti had been listening in the configuration chamber when Holloway was discussing his planned attack on the Zhirrzh base. For that matter, there was an even chance he'd also heard Holloway talking about the Elderdeath weapon he was planting on her. If she helped him get to where he could talk with other Zhirrzh...
"I will not tell what I have heard, Doctor-Cavan-a," Prr't-zevisti said. "I give you my promise of honor."
"Why not?" Melinda murmured back, trying to keep her lips from moving. "Your people's lives are at stake."
"Not their lives," Prr't-zevisti corrected her. "They would only be raised to Eldership."
"And that's not important to you?"
"It is very important," Prr't-zevisti said. "But it is more important that the war be ended quickly."
Melinda swallowed. "I would be trusting you with my life, Prr't-zevisti. Do you understand that?"
"With my promise of honor, Doctor-Cavan-a. I will not tell what I have heard."
And so there it was. Fifteen minutes ago she'd been willing to gamble with the lives of everyone up here in the mountains on the words and promise of an alien ghost. Was she equally willing to gamble her own life, right here and now, on those same words and promise? "All right," she said. "Where's the cutting?"
"In the small tube at the end," Prr't-zevisti said. Even with his alien intonations the relief in his voice was unmistakable. "Do you see it?"
"Yes," Melinda said. It was about the same diameter as a marking stylus, and about half its length. Small enough to palm, if she could get to it without anyone noticing. Here was her chance, she thought wryly, to see whether she could make it as a thief if her surgical career ever fell through. A shame Prr't-zevisti couldn't create a diversion-jump out at the Peacekeepers and say boo or something-
And then, just as she reached the line of artifacts, there was a sudden mechanical-sounding screech from the aircar, and a flood of warm air washed over her. The Oberons twitched warningly; but the aircar merely lifted a few centimeters off the ground and then settled back down again.
But for those few seconds all eyes were on the aircar. With the help of the aircar's pilot, Prr't-zevisti had indeed arranged a diversion.
She had the cylinder in her hand before the aircar had completely settled down again, forcing herself to keep her pace steady as she stepped up to the waiting Zhirrzh. "I greet you," she said to him. "I am Melinda Cavanagh. A healer."
"I greet you, Melinda Cavanagh," the alien said in remarkably good English. "I am Thrr-gilag; Kee'rr. I will take you to your brother."
Melinda glanced back at Holloway, standing impassively beside Takara as two Peacekeepers headed toward the aircar with the supplies. "Thank you," she murmured.
Two minutes later they were airborne; and as they lifted over the first line of low peaks, Prr't-zevisti's ghostly form appeared beside Thrr-gilag. They conversed for a few minutes in the Zhirrzh language, and then Thrr-gilag turned to face Melinda. "You do not know me, Melinda Cavanagh," he said, "but I am acquainted with your brother Pheylan Cavanagh. I was the speaker for the alien-studies group who examined him following his capture."
Melinda felt her stomach tighten. "Are you angry with him for escaping?" she asked.
The alien's deadly tongue slashed briefly into the air. "No. I seek merely to understand the roots of Human aggression toward the Zhirrzh."
"We have no aggression toward the Zhirrzh," Melinda said. "Or at least we didn't have until you attacked theJutland."
"Nor did we have any aggression toward Humans until theJutland attacked our ships," Thrr-gilag countered. His tongue jabbed again, this time curving around to point at Prr't-zevisti hovering beside him. "Perhaps at last we both now understand."
"Perhaps," Melinda said. "The challenge will be to get anyone else to listen to us."
"Do not fear, Melinda Cavanagh," Thrr-gilag assured her. "When we return to the encampment, we will open a pathway to the Overclan Prime. He is wise and honorable, and he will listen."
"I hope so," Melinda said, frowning. There was something wrong here. "But can't Prr't-zevisti do that himself? I thought he'd be able to go directly to his mainfsss organ once he was out of the configuration chamber and away from all our metal."
Prr't-zevisti murmured something and turned away, fading until he was barely visible. "He has tried," Thrr-gilag said. "But the anchorpoint-sense no longer exists. It appears that hisfsss has been destroyed."
Melinda looked at Prr't-zevisti, feeling a prickling sensation on her skin. "What will happen to him now? Will he die?"
"I do not know," Thrr-gilag admitted. "I think he will continue to live but will be confined to the small region around this new cutting."
"And the cutting back at the Peacekeeper base," Melinda said. "We'll get it back to you, Prr't-zevisti, after all this is over."
Prr't-zevisti stirred, his image returning to its earlier brightness. "I am shamed by my sadness," he said. "You have risked your honor for me, Doctor-Cavan-a. I am alive, and I am free. What more shall I wish would be selfish."
They were over the last row of foothills now, with the colony in distant sight. Melinda found herself studying the village as they approached, wondering what changes the Zhirrzh had made in the area. She spotted the warehouse where she'd stored the supplies for Pheylan's rescue mission; it seemed incredible that that had been only three and a half weeks ago. The last transmission they'd had before the Peacekeepers had seemingly abandoned them had reported that Pheylan and Aric and the others had all returned safely to Edo and had included a summary of their debriefing.
Yet here Pheylan was, back in Zhirrzh hands. How in the world had that happened?
Abruptly, Thrr-gilag leaned forward, reaching over to touch the pilot on the shoulder. He jabbed his tongue toward the village and said something that sounded agitated. Prr't-zevisti moved into the space between them, and for a minute the three of them conversed in rapid-fire Zhirrzh. "What's wrong?" Melinda asked.
"I do not know," Thrr-gilag said, jabbing his tongue again. "There is a new arrival in the encampment since we departed to seek your assistance. It is a flash-ship bearing the markings of the Speaker for Dhaa'rr."
Melinda squinted out at the white ship parked off to one side of the landing area. "Is that bad?"
"The Speaker for Dhaa'rr is not a friend of the Thrr family," Thrr-gilag said. "I do not believe he will be pleased to find Prr't-zevisti still alive."
Melinda frowned at the ghost. "But I thought Prr't-zevisti was a member of the Dhaa'rr clan."
"He is," Thrr-gilag said. "It is too complicated to explain now, Melinda Cavanagh. We must not reveal that Prr't-zevisti is here until we know the reason for this visit."
"That's going to be a tall order," Melinda said. "Won't the other Elders recognize him?"
Thrr-gilag jabbed his tongue viciously. "Yes. You are right; it is no use. Unless we drop hisfsss cutting to the ground right here, there will be nowhere he can go that the other Elders cannot also reach."
Melinda's eyes fell on the equipment Holloway's men had loaded aboard. Her bag, the medical supplies and disguised explosives-
And the vital-signs monitor with its metal casing.
"Yes, there is," she told Thrr-gilag, crouching beside the monitor and pulling out her multitool. "We can hide his cutting in here until we know what's going on. Tell the pilot to slow down-I need time to get this open."
She had the back of the monitor open by the time the pilot had begun his descent toward the landing field. Thrr-gilag and Prr't-zevisti had been conversing together the whole time in quiet tones, and now Thrr-gilag handed Melinda the small cylinder containing the cutting. "Make certain he has a small space around him," he told her. "And that the cutting is safely secure in place. Damage to it will hurt him."
"Yes, I know," Melinda said, wedging the cylinder between two circuit boards near one side. There was a lot of metal in there, but the boards themselves were nonmetallic. "How's that, Prr't-zevisti?"
"It is fine," the Elder's voice said from inside the monitor.
"Be quick," Thrr-gilag warned, looking ahead. "Other Elders may look in at us."
Melinda nodded and got to work. She had the monitor sealed and the last screw in place by the time the aircar settled to the ground.
She had expected a group of warriors to be waiting for them as she and Thrr-gilag exited the aircar. To her surprise there was only a single Zhirrzh standing at the foot of the ramp. For a minute he spoke to Thrr-gilag; then, touching a device draped over his shoulder, he turned to Melinda and spoke. "I greet you, Melinda Cavanagh," the translation came from the shoulder device. "I am Second Commander Klnn-vavgi; Dhaa'rr. The seriousness of the situation requires that we dispense with the usual ceremony."
Melinda felt her heart speed up. Seriousness? "Has something happened to Pheylan?"
"Pheylan Cavanagh is not worse," Thrr-gilag said, his voice sounding abruptly strange. "It is my brother, Commander Thrr-mezaz. On the orders of the Overclan Seating, he has been placed under detention."
25
The supply cart rolled along the bumpy stone corridor, every turn of its wheels taking Thrr't-rokik farther away from the Mrach spacecraft and the pyramid full of Elders that had been brought there along with the other supplies from theWilling Servant. A decidedly mixed blessing, he'd already concluded. On the one side, it would probably be safer to have the box containing his illegalfsss cutting moved farther away from the prying eyes of the other Elders of this expedition; on the other side, he wasn't sure exactly where the box was being taken. There'd been something about putting it in the Zhirrzh study group's quarters-
An Elder suddenly appeared in the grayworld in front of him. "There you are," he snapped. "I've been looking all over for you, Cvv't-rokik. Didn't you hear the announcement for all Elders to assemble in theClosed Mouth's command room?"
Thrr't-rokik grimaced. Of course he hadn't heard-the announcement had undoubtedly been made directly to the collection offsss cuttings in the pyramid. "I didn't realize it was to be immediately," he improvised. "I was asked to watch over these supplies and make sure they were properly delivered."
"Asked by whom?" the Elder demanded suspiciously.
"One of the warriors," Thrr't-rokik said. On his way out of the ship he'd overheard something.... "He told me to make sure the supplies arrived all right since the members of the study group were sleeping."
The Elder flicked his tongue, still obviously suspicious. But it apparently wasn't worth the effort of checking up on. "All right, get going," he growled. "But as soon as they're delivered, get yourself back to the ship and the meeting."
"I obey," Thrr't-rokik said.
The Elder flicked his tongue again and vanished. Another Elder appeared nearby, glanced briefly at Thrr't-rokik and the supply cart, then left without speaking. A few beats later a third Elder appeared, this one moving in and out of the boxes on the cart before similarly leaving. Clearly, they were approaching the study group's quarters and the Elders assigned to watch over them; and if Thrr't-rokik didn't want to have to keep explaining his presence here, a strategic withdrawal was probably called for.
Fortunately, with hisfsss cutting already a thoustride away from theClosed Mouth, there was an obvious place to hide. Zipping forward ahead of the wobbly supply cart, he stretched out to the full length of his anchorline, moving out of range of the Elders in the hangar area.
It was more of the same up there: more stone tunnels and more dimly lit stone rooms. Also more deserted. He drifted in and out through the walls without seeing any signs of life or habitation. Apparently, this part of the fortress wasn't being used right now.
Or rather, he corrected himself, not being used very much. From the wall to his right came a faint but distinct thunking sound, followed by something that might have been voices. He moved through the wall to investigate-
And jolted to a stop, dropping reflexively into the safety of the grayworld.
The room was indeed occupied. By three Human-Conquerors.
Cautiously, fighting against the urge to zip away out of there, he moved to one of the upper corners of the room and rose again toward the lightworld. Two of the three Human-Conquerors were seated on low metal couchlike structures placed against one wall, while the third knelt at the door tapping methodically on the end of a long rigid sliver of some black material with a piece of rock. The other end of the sliver had been inserted behind a metal plate set into one side of a wooden door. A lock mechanism, perhaps?