"We're going back to Phormbi, then?" Aric asked.
"Unless you have somewhere else you'd rather be."
Aric gazed out at the stars. "Actually, as long as we're this close already, I was thinking we might want to go to Mra."
There was a brief silence. "Any particular reason why?"
"That message you got at Phormbi said my father and Bronski were headed there," Aric reminded him. "Now that we know that the Mrachanis and Zhirrzh are working together, I'm thinking they might be in trouble."
"Bronski can generally take care of himself," Daschka said. But his tone was thoughtful. "Besides, alerting Montgomery about these missing Zhirrzh warships ought to be our priority here."
"On the other hand, Montgomery's going to be out of action for a while," Cho Ming put in. "Mra gets diplomatic skitters, too-we can send a report just as easily from there as we could from Phormbi."
"Point," Daschka admitted. "I wish we'd followed the other Zhirrzh warships... but that's over and done with. All right, what the hell, let's go to Mra."
"I just hope we'll be able to find them," Aric commented as Quinn sent the Corvine curving back. "A planet's a pretty big place to lose a couple of people in."
"Oh, we'll find them," Cho Ming promised. "Trust me."
27
It was a long way back up to consciousness, Pheylan thought dimly as he drifted slowly through a tunnel filled with cotton-dense fog and randomly variable gravity. But finally he made it and opened his eyes.
And even through the fog the trip was suddenly worth all the effort. "Melinda?" he croaked.
"I'm right here, Pheylan," she said, stepping over to where he lay and smiling down at him.
A smile that seemed curiously tight... and then, suddenly, it all came rushing back. The frantic trip through Dorcas's atmosphere, Max's incredibly competent landing, his own incredibly stupid clumsiness- And his capture by the enemy.
He lowered his eyes from his sister's face and looked at her body. Her outfit was all too familiar: the same type of obedience suit he'd been issued during his previous captivity, optical sensors and electromagnetic arm and leg rings and all.
Carefully, he turned his head to the side. A couple of meters to his left two Zhirrzh were looking back at him. "Right," he said, closing his eyes.
"That's not very sociable," Melinda chided him lightly. "Aren't you even going to say hello to an old friend?"
"I am pleased to see you recovering, Pheylan Cavanagh," a Zhirrzh voice said.
Pheylan opened his eyes, lifting his head from the table he was lying on and frowning again at the two Zhirrzh. The alien on the left...
No. It couldn't be. "Thrr-gilag?"
The Zhirrzh flicked his tongue. "I am pleased you remember."
"You'd be a little hard to forget," Pheylan muttered, laying his head back down and looking up at Melinda. Terrific. It wasn't bad enough he'd been recaptured by the enemy; it wasn't even bad enough that his sister, whom he'd come here hoping to help, was in the same boat he was. But it was humiliating to wind up with the same old interrogator again. It was like the time he was hauled back to his summer-camp cabin after his abortive attempt to go over the wall. "So who's your friend?" he asked.
"This is Klnn-dawan-a," Thrr-gilag said, his tongue darting out and curving around to point to the Zhirrzh beside him. "She and I were once bond-engaged. The Dhaa'rr clan has now repudiated that bond-engagement."
"I'm sorry," Pheylan said, since that seemed to be the thing to say. "Was it because I got away from you?"
"For that and for other reasons."
Pheylan grimaced. "Well, you've got me again. That ought to get you back in their good graces."
"In the meantime, we've got work to do," Melinda said briskly, stepping over to a table against the wall. There was some kind of electronic-equipment box sitting there, its face turned toward the wall. "Thrr-gilag and Klnn-dawan-a are here to study you," she continued, picking up a multitool and setting to work on one of the fasteners on the box's back. "Alien physiology must be an interesting field. Reminds me of the way I used to practice medical work on my Carrie Mantha doll. You remember?"
"Uh... sure," Pheylan said cautiously, the hairs on the back of his neck beginning to tingle. The main thing he remembered about that doll was Melinda driving him and Aric crazy with it until they'd hidden it in the back of the kitchen revamperator. Unfortunately, their mother had come along and turned the appliance on-
In theback of the revamperator?
He threw a quick glance at the two Zhirrzh, finally catching on. Something was hidden in that box Melinda was fiddling with. Was it his job to distract the aliens while she got it out? "I don't feel so good," he muttered, wincing for their benefit.
"Where do you feel ill?" Thrr-gilag asked, stepping to his side.
"I'm sure you'll feel better soon," Melinda said, coming up beside the alien and laying a reassuring hand on Pheylan's left leg.
The touch felt odd. Pheylan looked down, noticing only then the tattered flight suit and the membrane cast immobilizing the leg. Almost as good a restraint as the Zhirrzh obedience suit Melinda was wearing, at least as far as escape was concerned. Whatever she was up to, he hoped it wouldn't call for acrobatics on his part. "You think so, huh?" he asked, looking back up at her.
"I'm positive," she said firmly, catching his eye and shaking her head minutely. "We're all playing the Flying Muskers here."
Pheylan frowned, more confused now than ever. The Flying Muskers had been the private club the three of them had formed with their next-door neighbor Lizza Easley when Pheylan was seven, modeled on their enthusiastic youthful reading ofThe Three Musketeers. All for one and one for all; and two of the four people present were enemy Zhirrzh, and what the hell was going on?
"Just be patient, Pheylan," Melinda soothed him. "Patience is a virtue."
Pheylan looked at the two Zhirrzh. Clearly, they'd heard what Melinda had said. Just as clearly, she hadn't been trying to hide it from them. What the hellwas going on? "Sure," he murmured back. "Patience is a virtue."
It has been 7.43 hours since Commander Pheylan Cavanagh and I were captured by the Zhirrzh, 4.94 hours since I was brought here to my current location in the former Commonwealth colony, now clearly under enemy control. Four Zhirrzh have been with me since my arrival, while three others have come and gone at irregular intervals. They have been studying me and other pieces of equipment brought here from the fueler.
I also infer from their posture and the movements of their eyes when they speak that there are conduits of communication I cannot detect. I compute a probability of 0.77 that there are three of these conduits, and a probability of 0.97 that they are mobile.
I regret the loss of my peripherals, which occurred when Commander Cavanagh detached my core from the fueler. With active sensors at my disposal I estimate a probability of 0.60 that I would be able to detect the unknown conduits. Again from the movements and reactions of those in the room, I calculate a probability of 0.86 that communication is in both directions, with messages being brought to the Zhirrzh as well as taken from them.
The loss of my libraries has also reduced my language-analysis capabilities to 0.14 of normal, with the result that it has required the entire time of my captivity to collect sufficient data on the language being spoken by my captors. However, I now estimate a probability of 0.80 that I have enough information to initiate communication with them. One of the Zhirrzh has spoken approximately 32 percent of the words I have heard. I choose his tonal pattern for maximum auditory acceptance, varying the waveform structure so as not to duplicate his voice exactly, and attempt to speak.
{Can you understand me?}
All six of the Zhirrzh currently in the room stop what they are doing or saying and look at me. I file the facial and postural reactions, tentatively labeling them as surprise. One of the Zhirrzh moves 0.67 meter closer to me; I note the center pupil of each eye has narrowed to approximately half its previous width.
{Who are you?}
{My name is Max. Will you tell me where Commander Cavanagh has been taken?}
The Zhirrzh takes another step toward me.{Where are you?}
I find the question odd, given that his eyes appear to be directly focused on me.{I am on the table directly in front of you.}
{Inside the metal container?)
I spend 0.03 second pondering the intent of his question. I am of course not contained in the metal container itself, but in the Porterdale lattice within the container. Still, I estimate a probability of 0.70 that the question seeks only general spatial information.{Yes.}
One of the other Zhirrzh steps to the first Zhirrzh's left side.{Are you a Human-Conqueror?}
{No.}
A third Zhirrzh extends his tongue for 0.15 second.{It's a trick. It has to be.}
The first Zhirrzh extends his tongue in similar fashion for 0.23 second.{Are you akabrsif?}
I examine the unknown word carefully for 0.54 second, comparing it to the other words in my vocabulary list and attempting to interpolate its meaning. But I am unable to do so.{I do not know the meaning of that term.}
{Are you thekassmi'fss of a Human-Conqueror?}
{I do not know the meaning of that term. I have traveled far with Commander Pheylan Cavanagh, and would like to know where he has been taken.}
The first Zhirrzh steps 0.27 meter closer to me.{How long have you known Pheylan Cavanagh?}
I spend 0.04 second reviewing my core database, confirm that information on Lord Cavanagh and his family was among my primary programming.{I have known of his existence for three years. I met him in person approximately twenty-one days ago, during the mission to rescue him.}
{You were present at his rescue?}
{Yes.}
There is a general stirring among the Zhirrzh, and a low-level buzz of conversation too faint and mixed for me to decipher.{What did you do during the rescue?}
{I guided the rescue team to his position. I also performed a primary analysis of the poison in his body as he was being brought from the surface to the fueler.}
{During that flight? While he was in the small fighter warcraft?}
{Yes.}
The Zhirrzh's posture changes, and I compute a probability of 0.87 that he is listening to one of the unknown communication conduits.{Yes, I know. But thekabrsifli stated there were only Human-Conquerors aboard the fighter spacecraft-}
He stops, listening again, and after 4.79 seconds he bobs his head in a short nod.{Yes. You'd better alert Second Commander Klnn-vavgi.}
His center pupils narrow another 30 percent.{Tell him that Thrr-gilag may have been right. That the Human-Conquerors may indeed havekabrsifli.}
"Small probe," Klnn-dawan-a said, holding out her hand.
"Small probe," Thrr-gilag repeated, choosing the instrument and handing it to her. Pheylan Cavanagh was looking warily at the probe, but Thrr-gilag's attention wasn't really on him. Three Elders were still keeping watch on them from various corners of the room. Thrr-gilag had no idea which Elders they were, or whose side they were on, and until they left, he didn't dare allow Melinda Cavanagh to release Prr't-zevisti's cutting from that metal box. She had indicated that a diversion would be coming soon, but what that diversion might be she hadn't said.
"Thrr-gilag," an agitated voice whispered at his ear.
Reflexively, Thrr-gilag stepped back behind Klnn-dawan-a, giving the Elder a little more visual cover from the two Humans. "Yes?"
"There's news from the technic examination room," the Elder said, the words tumbling over themselves in his hurry to get them out. "The Human-Conquerors may have Elders after all-they think they have one in there now!"
Thrr-gilag felt his tail twitch violently. Could that dubious hunch of his actually have been right? "What?"
"Yes-Human-Conqueror Elders," the Elder repeated. "Do you need us to keep watching here?"
Was this Melinda Cavanagh's diversion? Even if it wasn't, it was the perfect opening. "Not at all," he assured the Elder. "The Human is immobilized, and there are two warriors outside. Go on, and take the other Elders with you."
"Thank you," the Elder said. "I'll let you know what they find out as soon as I can."
"There's no hurry," Thrr-gilag said. "I'd rather you stayed there and learned everything you can."
The Elder flicked his tongue and vanished. Slowly, carefully, Thrr-gilag looked around the room. All three Elders were gone.
"What is it?" Klnn-dawan-a asked.
"Our chance," Thrr-gilag told her, motioning Melinda Cavanagh toward the metal box. "Quickly," he said in the Human language.
"I heard something about Human-Conqueror Elders," Klnn-dawan-a said as Melinda Cavanagh set to work on the last two fasteners.
"The technics think they've found one," he told her, looking around the room again. Still clear. "I have no idea what's going on, but this is our chance to sneak Prr't-zevisti's cutting out."
"What's happened?" Melinda Cavanagh asked.
"Something about the technics discovering a Human Elder," Thrr-gilag told her. "But there are no such things, are there?"
She shook her head. "Not unless you believe in ghosts."
"What do Elders have to do with ghosts?" Pheylan Cavanagh asked.
"They're the Zhirrzh version of the afterlife," his sister told him. "I'm told you saw one once." She finished the last fastener and pulled the metal plate off-
And with a rush like smoke escaping from a bubble, Prr't-zevisti appeared.
There was a sharp inhalation from Pheylan Cavanagh. "You've heard everything?" Thrr-gilag asked Prr't-zevisti as Melinda Cavanagh set to work digging the sampler out from where she'd wedged it.
"I have," Prr't-zevisti rumbled. "And I will have strong words for the Overclan Seating concerning the Speaker for Dhaa'rr."
"Only if you can get those words to someone who'll pass them on," Klnn-dawan-a reminded him tartly. "You've heard the situation-Speaker Cvv-panav's agents have the whole encampment legally under their command. Are there any Elders here you can trust to take a message back to Oaccanv without asking permission first?"
"There are several who have nothing but contempt for this kind of clan politics," he assured her. "As soon as Melinda Cavanagh has freed my cutting from the confines of this box, I'll go find them."
"And try not to let anyone else see you," Thrr-gilag warned, "if word gets back to Mnov-korthe before anyone back home knows about you, we could still lose it all."
With a final tug Melinda Cavanagh's hand emerged from the box with the sampler-
And suddenly Prr't-zevisti's face was infused with the most amazing expression of pure joy that Thrr-gilag had ever seen. "Thrr-gilag-myfsss -"