Valloittaja made some sarcastic-sounding reply. But Cavanagh didn't hear it, his full attention on the voice whispering from the stone behind him. "They told Nzz-oonaz that Human-Conquerors were attacking with CIRCE," Thrr't-rokik whispered. "But if you and Zhirrzh do not die at same time-you see?"
"Yes," Cavanagh said to Valloittaja. "Still, I assume you're trying to stage this as if it all happened at once. We can't be the big, bad human attackers if we die a few days before you even get to the Zhirrzh on that ship."
Valloittaja's frown hardened. "What are you talking about?" he demanded suspiciously.
"I'm talking about the logical approach to this fraudulent attack," Cavanagh said, aware that Bronski and Kolchin were also staring at him. "I take it from your reaction I've hit close to the mark?"
Valloittaja drew himself up. "It will hardly require days to break into that ship. A few hours, at the most. By the time any Zhirrzh investigators arrive, such a difference in death times won't even be noticeable."
Bronski snorted. "Youare joking," he said scornfully, finally picking up on the cue. "A few hours? Try a few days. If you're lucky."
"Bronski's right," Cavanagh agreed. "You'd better give that hull a try before you make rash promises. My guess is that it'll take you at least a week to get through it. Even without the Zhirrzh warriors inside shooting at you."
For a few seconds Valloittaja gazed at Cavanagh, not speaking. Cavanagh held the gaze, mentally crossing his fingers. "Your analysis is most interesting," the Mrach said softly. "Still, you disappoint me, Lord Cavanagh. You plead like small animals for a few more hours of life." He paused. "Or do you still have hope of escape?"
"Of course we have hope of escape," Bronski said. "You don't think we'd help you lie to the Zhirrzh just for the fun of it, do you?"
Valloittaja smiled thinly. "Very well; you have bought a few more hours of life. Enjoy them."
He turned and strode out, the Bhurtala moving aside for him and then closing the door behind him. "That was interesting," Bronski commented. "Where did you learn how to read Mrach minds, Cavanagh?"
"Insider information," Cavanagh told him, shifting back on his cot to block the spy-eye camera and motioning Bronski to do the same. "Thrr't-rokik?"
The Elder appeared in front of the door. "Beware," he cautioned. "The two large beasts still wait outside."
"So what the hell is going on?" Bronski asked.
"The Mrachanis have covered the area around theClosed Mouth with metal," Thrr't-rokik said. "It is blocking the Elders from returning home. First, the Mrachanis said that Human-Conquerors attacking with CIRCE weapon."
"With CIRCE?" Cavanagh echoed, looking at Bronski. "That's-"
"That's a lie," Bronski interrupted, throwing him a fiercely warning look. "What are your people going to do?"
"They will defend," Thrr't-rokik said. "But the Overclan Prime still wants to stop the war. He says perhaps you talk to your son Pheylan Cavanagh."
Cavanagh frowned. "Talk to my-"
And then, suddenly, he got it. "You're with Pheylan?"
"I am not," Thrr't-rokik said. "But Prr't-zevisti on Dorcas is with him."
"Dorcas?" Bronski demanded. "What's Pheylan doing there?"
"I do not know," Thrr't-rokik said. "Perhaps you can ask him."
"Yes," Cavanagh said. "How do I do this?"
"You speak," Thrr't-rokik said. "I will relay your words to Prr't-zevisti."
"I see," Cavanagh said, taking a deep breath. "All right, here we go. Pheylan, this is your father, Lord Stewart Simon Cavanagh. Are you there?"
Twelve more Zhirrzh have entered the room in the past 7.94 minutes. From their expressions and postures, I have deduced that more of the imperceptible communication conduits are also present. I estimate a probability of 0.70 that there are currently twenty of the latter, with a probable deviation of plus or minus four. The original questioner has spoken twice to me during that period but has merely asked simple permutations of his earlier questions. Most of the conversation in the room has been between the Zhirrzh and the unseen conduits, which has enabled me to strengthen and corroborate my earlier language studies.
Two new Zhirrzh have now entered the room, and with their arrival I detect a significant alteration in the body language of the other twelve present. I compare their altered postures to those of the original occupants of the room toward the Zhirrzh whose tonal pattern I copied and whom I presumed to be an authority figure. From this comparison I estimate a probability of 0.70 that the newcomers are also in positions of authority and estimate a further probability of 0.90 that this authority exceeds that of any of the room's original occupants.
A pathway is opened through the room, and the two Zhirrzh step to within 1.44 meters of me. The one on the left is 3 centimeters taller than the other; he also stops 18 centimeters closer to me.{Who are you?}
{My name is Max. I'm currently the travel companion of Commander Pheylan Cavanagh.}
{You cannot be akabrsif. Human-Conquerors do not havekabrsifli. Admit to me that you are not akabrsif.}
I spend 0.03 second examining his expression and posture and comparing them with all I have learned about the Zhirrzh. His expression is one I haven't yet seen. From his words I estimate a probability of 0.40 that he is angry and a probability of 0.50 that he is suspicious of me.{I cannot respond to that question, nor can I admit anything. I do not know the meaning of that word.}
The Zhirrzh continues to look at me for 3.50 seconds. His companion, still standing 18 centimeters behind him, is not looking at me, but is instead looking slowly about the room. I study the movements and brief pauses and compute a probability of 0.74 that he is looking in turn at each of the unseen communication conduits.
The first Zhirrzh extends his tongue toward me for 0.43 second.{Take it apart. All of it.}
The Zhirrzh beside him holds his right hand in an unfamiliar gesture.{Just a beat, Mnov-korthe. You have no right to order such aminzhorh.}
The first Zhirrzh turns his head to face the second.{Take caution, Second Commander Klnn-vavgi. I am commanding now, and you may yet end up in the same position as your commander.}
His expression changes abruptly, to a variation of the look I had tentatively identified as suspicion, and he spends the next 8.77 seconds looking around the room the same way Second Commander Klnn-vavgi has been doing. Mnov-korthe's tongue extends for 0.93 second, pointing upward at an angle of approximately forty degrees.{You-kabrsif.What are you doing here?}
Mnov-korthe holds his same posture for 10.22 seconds. I calculate a probability of 0.95 that he is listening to one of the unseen conduits.{He did, did he?}There is a pause of 3.92 seconds. {No, you stay here now. I'll see to this.}
He turns around and walks toward the door. As he takes his first step, he makes a hand gesture toward two of the Zhirrzh.
{You two: take this so-calledkabrsif across the landing field to the optronics assembly area and begin taking it apart.}
He makes another gesture toward Second Commander Klnn-vavgi.{You will come with me, Second Commander. The brother of your commander needs to be dealt with.}
"Pheylan, this is your father, Lord Stewart Simon Cavanagh," the ghostly figure said, its voice as faint and insubstantial as its appearance. "Are you there?"
Propped up on one elbow on his table, Pheylan looked at Melinda, standing a couple of meters away beside Thrr-gilag. The second Zhirrzh, Klnn-dawan-a, was across the room, her head pressed listening against the door. "Go ahead," Melinda coaxed. "It's all right. He'll repeat everything you say to Dad."
But would he? That was the big question. And if he altered things, even blatantly, how would any of them know it? "Hello, Father," he said to the ghost. It occurred to him even as he said it that he hardly ever called the elder CavanaghFather -usually it was justDad. But there was something about this whole setup that encouraged formality. "This is your son Pheylan David. Are you all right?"
The ghost nodded and vanished. "That's it," Melinda said encouragingly. "That's all you do. It's just like relaying messages through someone else when your own phone's broken."
Which Pheylan had always hated doing. "You were starting to tell me what all this was about."
"It's our radio signals," Melinda said. "It turns out they're extremely painful to Zhirrzh Elders."
"To be accurate, to thefsss organs of the Elders," Thrr-gilag put in. "To us they are called Elderdeath weapons-"
He stopped as the ghost reappeared. " 'I'm fine, Pheylan,' " he said. " 'We're in a bit of a tight situation at the moment, though. Do you have any way to get a message off Dorcas?' "
Pheylan looked at Melinda. "Do we?"
"Colonel Holloway has two Corvines," she said. "They're the ones who decided not to go on Aric's mission to rescue you. The question is whether the Zhirrzh blockade ships out there would let them pass."
Pheylan gestured at the ghost. "Go ahead, take that back."
The ghost vanished again. "What you call radio is to us Elderdeath weapons," Thrr-gilag said, picking up the thread of the earlier conversation. Probably standard practice with the Zhirrzh, Pheylan decided, given the built-in time lags of their communication system. "They were used once in a war, by the Svrr family of the Flii'rr clan. That family was afterward destroyed."
"What do you mean, destroyed?" Melinda asked.
"Thefsss organs of the adults were destroyed and the adults executed," Thrr-gilag said, his voice taking on an oddly unsettling tone. "The Elders'fsss organs were also destroyed. The children were renamed and scattered to other clans."
The ghost returned. This time, instead of speaking to Pheylan, he jabbered at Thrr-gilag in their own language. "The Overclan Prime sends you a message," Thrr-gilag said. "He does not know your language, so I will translate."
His tone changed. " 'Pheylan Cavanagh, this is the Overclan Prime. I have asked Warrior Command about the warship over Dorcas. It is damaged and cannot maneuver, but it is still capable of attack. Any messenger you send must be warned to avoid it.' "
"Can't he just order it not to shoot?" Melinda asked.
"I will ask." Thrr-gilag spoke to the ghost, who vanished.
Melinda crossed the room to Pheylan's side. "I know this is pretty new for you, and probably hard to accept," she said quietly. "But I really believe they're telling the truth."
Pheylan thought back to that first battle. To the attack on theJutland, as it transmitted the first-contact package... the widening of that attack to the other ships, as they all switched from laser communication to battle-coded radio signals... the systematic destruction of the honeycomb escape pods with their blaring emergency radio beacons.
And his rescue from a similar death, after he'd disabled his own beacon. "No," he told his sister slowly. "Actually, it's not all that hard to accept."
The ghost returned and again held a brief conference with Thrr-gilag. "From the Overclan Prime," Thrr-gilag said. " 'Warrior Command has not been informed of this conversation. Many of the clan leaders would violently not approve of negotiations with you, especially with the current attack on the Zhirrzh ship trapped on Mra. Many will believe the Mrachanis and Human-Conquerors are cooperating in this attack.' "
Pheylan chewed at his lip. "Does the Overclan Prime know if the Mrachanis have begun trying to get through the Zhirrzh ship's hull yet?"
"Why?" Melinda asked as Thrr-gilag translated for the ghost.
"I'll tell you after we find out," Pheylan said. "If they are, I want to know what method they're using."
The ghost vanished. Ninety seconds later he was back.
"The Mrachanis are indeed attempting to penetrate the hull, Pheylan Cavanagh," Thrr-gilag confirmed after the usual consultation. "They are using metal cutting tools, focused light, and explosive devices."
Pheylan smiled grimly. "In that case you can tell the Overclan Prime that no official human groups are involved in this. We know how to break Zhirrzh hulls, and it's not the way the Mrachanis are trying."
Thrr-gilag's tail twitched out of its usual steady corkscrewing motion. "You have found a way? How?"
"We had a tech team studying the buildings you left behind after I escaped," Pheylan told him. "They figured it out. The method's probably already back on Earth; it certainly could be on Mra by now if the Peacekeepers were involved."
Thrr-gilag's tail twitched again. "I will inform the Overclan Prime."
He spoke to the ghost, who vanished. "Are you sending all this to my father, too?" Pheylan asked. "He needs to know what's going on."
"He is hearing everything," Thrr-gilag assured him. "The Overclan Prime has insisted. It is by his authority that he hopes to persuade the other Human leaders."
"Good," Pheylan said. "Then when your communicator gets back, I've got some suggestions to make to him."
Beside the door Klnn-dawan-a suddenly hissed something and jumped toward Pheylan's table. "Someone is coming," Thrr-gilag said, grabbing two of their instruments and tossing her one of them. Pheylan dropped back flat on the table, wondering fleetingly whether he should feign pain or nervousness or defiance or whether it really mattered-
Abruptly the door slammed open against its stop, and a tall Zhirrzh strode in, three others behind him. Two of them, Pheylan noted, were carrying the well-remembered riflelike weapons. The tall Zhirrzh snarled something, and the two guards took up positions flanking the doorway, weapons angled just over the occupants' heads. Thrr-gilag said something, was answered by the tall Zhirrzh. Again Thrr-gilag spoke, gesturing. "Is there a problem?" Pheylan asked loudly into the conversation.
For a moment the tall Zhirrzh eyed him with what was probably a glare of some sort. Then, with a contemptuous-sounding noise, he spat something. "He asks you to be silent," Thrr-gilag translated.
"Why should we?" Pheylan demanded. The tall Zhirrzh was looking around the room now, his eyes searching the tables and miscellaneous human and Zhirrzh equipment in a way Pheylan didn't like. "We're involved in this too, you know. We deserve to know what's going on."
"Please be silent," Thrr-gilag said, his tone sounding urgent. "He is Mnov-korthe, agent of the Overclan Seating, and he has command here now. You will merely get us into trouble-"
He broke off, his tail twitching again. Mnov-korthe's roving eyes had abruptly stopped. With two long strides he stepped to the equipment table off to Pheylan's right, pulling away a rumpled piece of material from Pheylan's jumpsuit leg to reveal the short, slender cylinder that Melinda had hidden there. The cylinder she had earlier had hidden inside the vital-signs monitor.