Extremis (57 page)

Strange,
Ankaht thought, aware but not particularly cognizant of the chaotic and hurried activity around her,
I know that Thutmus’s soul continues. I know that he has but experienced
dest
—discarnation—not the endless oblivion of
zhet
. But now, for the first time in my life, that offers little consolation. Now, in this time of trouble for me, for this city, for our race, I need him: I need Thutmus. And he is gone. And because I thought eternity was ours, I had not even thought of him once in the past three months.

And as tears ran down her face—strange tears, tears that grieved a death—she realized:
This is what they—what the humans—feel every time one of their loved ones dies. This is the dagger of bitter loss which we have been ceaselessly jabbing into them as we destroy their fleets, their families, their infants. Illudor’s Tears, how will—how can—they ever forgive us?

Ankaht stretched her full length upon the floor and wept for all the dead.

* * *

Torhok had, in the course of his career, seen many colleagues and subordinates crack under the strain of their positions, their responsibilities, their duties, even their guilt. He had acquired a fine-honed ability to distinguish the signs of mere anxiety and anger from those that presaged the peculiar and complete shedding of decorum and restraint that typified an individual who had at last exceeded their limits of psychological or emotional forbearance.

Urkhot was showing those signs now, as he stood before the Council of Twenty. Thutmus’s vacant seat was filled by the injured Tefnut ha sheri, who was acting both as the slain
shaxzhu
’s pro tem replacement and as a witness to the assassination attempt that had compelled the emergency convening of the Council.

“Do you refute the testimony of the witness?” Senior Councilor Amunherh’peshef asked again.

And again Urkhot refused to meet his inquisitor’s eyes or open his
selnarm
. “I am not bound to answer that until I may confront the witness myself.”

Amunherh’peshef tapped a single, negating claw. “Incorrect,
Holodah’kri
. The law on this matter is not subject to interpretation or challenge. When a sole witness is either physically incapable of appearing before a Deliberative Collect, or the Collect has reason to suspect that the witness might be a target for preemptive discarnation, the accused’s right of Disputation is set aside. So it is here. The sole surviving assassin—Qes’shah—is still recovering from the wounds inflicted by Temret’s volunteers—”

“You mean, Temret’s traitorous thugs.” Mahes of Civanrock stared out beyond the ring of the table to impale the tall Destoshaz with all three eyes.

Amunherh’peshef pulsed a reproof. “Mahes, if it was not for Temret, we would have had two more seats to fill—and no clear evidentiary path. Which leads us back to you,
Holodah’kri
. Do you deny Qes’shah’s accusation that you personally approached her—and her co-conspirators—with what you called ‘the urgent mission to rid ourselves of the race-traitor Ankaht’?”

Urkhot’s body seemed to tremble.

“
Holodah’kri
, do not make this more difficult than it is. We also have the testimony of the Enforcer manip who followed orders coming from your highest-ranking Destoshaz
hwa’kri
to shut down the security sensors and
selnarm
repeaters in Elder Ankaht’s research complex. We have a clear video record of the covert entries made by the assassination squads, thanks to the human surveillance system that Intelligence Prime Mretlak discovered and has been using to watch for further human intrusions. And we have indications that the leader of the assassins—the Security second for all of Punt—was provided by you with a copy of the privy notes of this Council. These included the official itinerary of Tefnut ha sheri, indicating the time that he would be at the Elder’s research complex to conduct
an independent assessment of
shaxzhu
Ankaht’s vocoder.”

Urkhot’s
selnarm
quivered, as did his body. “And of what possible relevance is that last item?”

“Given that you have chafed under Tefnut ha sheri’s nominally superior position as
holodah’kri’at—
the senior high priest—and his insistence upon more liberal access to human documents and the use of the vocoder in understanding them, it would be ingenuous of us not to consider the possibility that you were attempting to remove all your political opponents in a single blow, Urkhot. About which I have yet to hear your answer. Do you deny the testimony of Qes’shah? Did you or did you not conspire to assassinate your fellow Councilors, and also aid and abet the persons who attempted to carry out that assassination?”

And still Urkhot did not respond.

“You have been asked three times,
Holodah’kri
, and you have closed your
selnarm
and self to the appeals and questions of all the Children of Illudor. You know, better than most, that in these cases our law compels us to construe your silence as consent—and as a hostile act against our community. So, in accordance with our oldest laws, I give you one last chance to—”

“You puppet. You prating puppet. Do you not see the abyss of your own destruction yawning wide at your feet? Do you not see how you yourself are helping to dig it, this very second? You compel me to answer for murder?
Me
? How many of our brothers and our sisters have met untimely discarnations because of this, this—Elder’s—
griarfeksh
-loving apologetics?”

Amunherh’peshef narrowed his eyes. “This Council still does not have your direct response to its questions.”

“You will—after I exercise my ancient right of Challenge first. Who brought forward these accusations against me?”

Amunherh’peshef radiated (displeasure, annoyance, impatience). “
Holodah’kri
, you know very well that the charges—and evidence—were compiled as a collective effo—”

“Ill’sblood and be damned, I will know the identity of the person who initiated this defamation of my name and character.”

Ankaht sent without moving. “I did. As you know.”

Urkhot swiveled his eyes to look down on the small, dark Elder. “At least you have the nerve to admit it.”

Torhok had a sudden twinge of misgiving: the
holodah’kri
was not reading the unfolding confrontation correctly. Torhok knew, from the confident coilings and uncoilings of Urkhot’s
selnarm
, that the priest was interpreting Ankaht’s lack of affect as grief over her loss, or fear, or both.
But, unless I’m very much mistaken, the Elder’s quiet does not signify weakness—

But Urkhot was pushing his
selnarm
directly at the contained, quiet figure of Ankaht. “You are the one who should be on trial here, race traitor. From the first, you have asked questions that were not merely pointless, not merely distracting to our efforts to survive, but actively pernicious to our faith. They were heresies cloaked in the guise of scientific investigation. Your questions were as deadly as they were interminable.”

“At least I asked questions,
Holodah’kri
. Illudor gave us three eyes to see, and in seeing, to explore and inquire. You have not done so. You see the humans, are surrounded by their handiwork, have been ignominiously defeated and outsmarted by them in battle, and yet you do not see them as what they are, and do not ask questions. You simply assert that they, and all their works, are flawed, wicked, valueless—and all without ever investigating or considering their possible worth. But I will concede this to you,
Holodah’kri
: you have a most pressing reason to vilify them—and to do away with anyone who would challenge your campaign to do so. Such as me.”

“So you accuse me not of mindless, but sagely premeditated, murder? How charming.”

Ankaht pulsed (accord). “Your act was indeed premeditated,
Holodah’kri
, because you understand—all too well—that our resolve to defeat the humans will be greatly weakened if we come to identify and accept them as true, thinking beings.”

“Which they are not!” Urkhot’s retort—hot and desperate—was more a confirmation of her conjectures than if he had admitted them directly.

“You propose to know—without research—that the humans are not intelligent?” It was Tefnut ha sheri who asked the question. “To make a decision before gathering and reviewing evidence is, at best, unwise.”

Urkhot’s
selnarm
stormed out at both of them. “Illudor tells us we are his only Children, and that our link with him, each other, and our past lives, is what makes us thinking beings—true
persons
—rather than just another species of bestial
zheteksh
.”

Ankaht still had not moved, but she sent: “So Illudor has already said, and shown us, all that is to be said or shown? We have nothing left to learn, no questions left to answer?”

Urkhot’s
selnarm
lashed back at hers. “
Shaxzhu
, do you suggest you know the will of Illudor better than I do?”

“No. I suggest that it has become unclear where the will of Illudor ends and the will of Urkhot begins. Indeed, I wonder,
Holodah’kri
, have you confused yourself with our god?”

The room was very quiet and Urkhot was, suddenly, very still. Then he sent: “I can abide your heresies and lies no longer. I make a formal challenge of
holo’ai maatkah
—here and now. I will have the satisfaction of having the Elder withdraw her accusations—or I shall slay her as surely as we are Illudor’s Only Children.”

Selnarms
rippled and quaked. Temret stood, his tentacles ready at the flap of his
skeerba
pouch. Tefnut ha sheri emitted a tired grunt of dismay. Torhok raised the lid of his central eye: a
holo’ai maatkah
? A challenge to be resolved right here in the Council Chamber, this instant? Torhok’s earlier misgivings about Urkhot’s state of mind rebounded and coalesced into self-recrimination.
If I had seen this coming, I might have prevented it
. Because no matter the outcome of this challenge, Urkhot had gone too far by issuing it, had done irreparable damage to his own cause. If he won, the accusations of assassination could still come from another source. Furthermore, he had now made an ogre out of himself by invoking one of the Council’s most antediluvian and barbaric conventions.

Torhok watched the motionless tableau of the stunned Council Chamber. It was as if all its members were suddenly remembering why they always
had
to sit in a circle, why three concentric rings were inscribed within the inner periphery of their round table—and what those rings signified: the limits of the de facto
maatkah
ring that was situated like a hub at the center of their deliberative wheel.

Torhok glanced sideways at Urkhot and reconsidered: this situation might not be as unfortunate as it had first seemed. Urkhot had become much less useful of late. His theological edicts to the hard-line
Destoshaz
had taken on the quality of distracted rantings. So, on second thought, there was nothing to be lost in a mortal contest between Urkhot and Ankaht. It would certainly eliminate one problem or another. Torhok even allowed himself a small pulse of optimism: in the best of all possible worlds, they would both expire on each others’
skeerba
. That was too convenient an outcome to hope for, of course, but there was no harm in fantasizing.

Urkhot was still looking down at Ankaht. “Well?”

Ankaht still did not move. But she sent: “I accept your Challenge.”

Temret started forward but was stayed at a gesture from Amunherh’peshef. “Urkhot, if you proceed with this—”

“Our course is set, Amunherh’peshef.”

“Ankaht is not alone in making this accusation. It was a majority decision.”

Urkhot vaulted the table, flexed his body in one long ripple as he entered the
maatkah
ring that they had all forgotten existed. “Then I shall challenge each member of that majority, one at a time, and in the order that they recorded their accusation against me.”

“
Holodah’kri
, this is madness. In the interest of our Race and Traditions—”

“You simpering idiot, I do this to
preserve
our Race and Traditions! It has been the sole motivation for all my actions. You have forgotten you are the Children of Illudor. You have forgotten what that means. Very well. I shall remind—or teach—you. Starting with you, Sleeper.” He had aimed the points of his left
skeerba
at Ankaht. “And consider this a long-overdue repayment for your treachery. You let the humans into your labs, encouraged them, coaxed them to attack us in Punt itself.”

Ankaht had stood, swung up onto the conference table, and lowered herself into the ring slowly, carefully—like an elderly person navigating a tight room overfilled with sharp-cornered furniture. “You can no longer even hear yourself, Urkhot. Your desperation to keep our race from a crisis it cannot avoid—the redefinition of personhood—has driven you to delusion.”

“I am driven by one thing—the protection of our Race and the continuity of Illudor. Prepare yourself,
shaxzhu
.”

Ankaht drew both her
skeerba
and knelt, head lowered. Urkhot knelt also, his lesser tentacles writhing eagerly, wildly, about the cross-palm hilts of his own ritual blades. His head was up, his eyes wide, quivering. He was immense and fiercely ready. She was small and completely motionless. The outcome, Torhok observed, did seem preordained.…

* * *

The mechanical chime announced the start of the match. Usually,
maatkah
contests began with a struggle between the duelists’
selnarms
; usually it lasted only a few seconds. In some celebrated instances, it had lasted for hours.

But Urkhot went straight into motion. He leapt directly toward Ankaht in the attack known as Wave Breaks High. Jumping up and out, his left
skeerba
was slightly forward to attack or parry, while his powerful right was held back, coiled and ready to unleash a lethal blow.

Ankaht seemed late rising to her feet; Urkhot’s long, golden body had unfurled halfway into his leaping arc, his
skeerba
descending. Ankaht—short, compact—had no way to stand her ground and strike back at him: his reach was too great, particularly in this leap that extended his whole body. The best she could do, Torhok thought, was go into the defense known as Shifting Winds, a sequential set of forceful blocks, usually conducted while retreating.