"The Twelfth perhaps overstates the case a bit," the Twenty-second said. "But-"
"I overstate nothing-"
"But he is correct," the Twenty-second said, raising his voice, "in saying the problem must be dealt with quickly."
"Then let me hear it," the Prime said, moving to take control of the discussion. Having five hundred cyclics' worth of leadership experience in the same room, he'd long ago discovered, was not nearly as useful or productive as he'd once thought it would be. Vastly different personalities from vastly different eras, yet with the same compelling strength of will that had gained each of them the position of Overclan Prime in the first place. All convinced on one level or another that they should still have a say in the management of the eighteen worlds. "Which of you first heard about this crisis?"
"It was I," the Seventh spoke up. "From one who was once Speaker for Kee'rr, now anchored at the Thrr family shrine with a cutting at the third pyramid of Unity City. You are, I believe, familiar with the Thrr family of the Kee'rr. One of its sons, Searcher Thrr-gilag, was the incompetent fool who allowed the Human-Conqueror prisoner to escape."
"I know Searcher Thrr-gilag, yes," the Prime said. "I'm not prepared to judge him incompetent. Certainly not on that basis."
"He should at least have made sure the prisoner died," the Seventh sniffed. "The Zhirrzh warriors of my time knew to do that much."
"Yes, he could have done that," the Prime agreed. "And in doing so might have found himself and his entire group raised to Eldership by the Human-Conquerors."
"It is hardly a dishonor to be raised to Eldership," the Twentieth bristled.
"It is when we need their hands right where they are," the Prime countered. "If they'd all been raised to Eldership, who would have cared for the injured Mrachani prisoners until theDiligent could arrive? More important, who would have been there to stop the Human-Conqueror warriors from landing and gathering up all of the Base World's records? Are you that anxious to see enemy warcraft flying over Oaccanv?"
"Calm down, Prime," the Eighteenth soothed. "No one's going to blame a searcher for not acting like a warrior under fire. Speaking of Thrr-gilag, were you aware that he'd left Oaccanv?"
The Prime frowned. "No, I wasn't. When was this?"
"Early this premidarc, apparently," the Eighteenth said. "The Overclan location server didn't realize he was missing until Thrr-gilag's brother, Commander Thrr-mezaz, called to set up a pathway to him. It took the location server several tentharcs to track him to a warrior supply ship bound for Gree."
"For Gree?" the Fifteenth asked. "What in the eighteen worlds is he going there for?"
"He's bond-engaged to a searcher working there," the Prime sighed. "Searcher Klnn-dawan-a; Dhaa'rr. I should have thought of that-it was in his file."
"I was under the impression that you were going to hold all the Mrachani-expedition members here in the complex," the Seventh said.
"Searcher Thrr-gilag asked for permission to visit his parents," the Prime said. "I granted it."
"Along with permission to leave the planet?"
"Nothing specifically was said either way," the Prime said. "I wasn't expecting him to leave Oaccanv; but actually I can't see any particular harm in it."
"Really," the Twelfth growled. "A Zhirrzh who holds full knowledge of CIRCE, and you can't see the harm in letting him wander around untended?"
"Calm down," the Prime said. "It's all right. He won't say anything."
"Can you be certain of that?" the Twelfth demanded. "Absolutely certain?"
"Yes, I can," the Prime said firmly. "As I've already said, I've read his file. Carefully. A graduate in alien studies with exceptionally high marks, his behavior and deportment since childhood have been equally exceptional. Granted, he's young and obviously somewhat inexperienced, but he's neither foolish nor impulsive nor careless. More to the point, he appreciates as well as you how devastating a premature disclosure of CIRCE's existence would be. He won't say anything."
"Trust is a noble quality for an Overclan Prime to possess," the Seventh said contemptuously. "It can also be his downfall. May I suggest that we at least arrange for all future communications from this Thrr-gilag to be routed through our communicators here at the complex?"
The Prime waved an impatient hand. "If it would make you feel better, go ahead."
"Thank you," the Seventh said frostily, and vanished.
"Interesting," the Eighteenth commented, eying the Prime thoughtfully. "All that about Thrr-gilag-I daresay it sounded rather like a prepared speech."
"Not preparation; familiarity," the Prime corrected him with a grimace. "As it happens, I've already fought the same battle with the Speaker for Dhaa'rr. Twice, actually. I must say I'm getting a little tired of it."
"Understandable," the Eighteenth said. "I only hope this young searcher is worthy of your trust."
"He's worthy of more than just trust," the Prime growled. "I've seen his file and read his reports, and it's clear to me that he has an exceptionally good mind for alien cultures and behavior. And we're going to need every bit of such insight in this struggle against the Human-Conquerors."
"True," the Fourteenth put in. "Besides which, if he's planning to talk, it's already too late to stop him."
The Seventh reappeared. "The pathway watch is set," he said, throwing one last glare at the Prime. "May we get back to the immediate issue at hand now?"
"Please do," the Prime said, gesturing polite invitation.
"Very well," the Seventh sniffed. "It concerns Searcher Thrr-gilag's mother, Thrr-pifix-a. Earlier this fullarc she traveled to the Thrr family shrine and attempted to steal herfsss organ." His eyes bored into the Prime's face. "Apparently, she wishes to refuse Eldership."
"I see," the Prime said. "And?"
The Seventh frowned. "What do you mean,and? Surely you can see the implications."
"Did she succeed?" the Prime asked.
"No," the Seventh said. "The chief protector of the shrine was suspicious and stopped her in time."
"Then, no, I don't see the implications." The Prime shrugged. "We get crazed fanatics all the time who try to steal theirfsss organs."
"Which is precisely where the problem lies," the Eighteenth said impatiently. "Thrr-pifix-a isn't a crazed fanatic-that's what makes her so dangerous. She's a simple, quiet, reasonable old female; nothing more, nothing less. A reasonable person who has nevertheless decided that she would prefer death to Eldership."
"I'm sorry, but I still don't see the problem," the Prime said. "What are you afraid of-that she'll go off and create some wide-scale protest movement against Eldership?"
"Exactly," the Twenty-second said. "Not that she'll do it on her own, necessarily, but that she could become the flash point for such a movement."
"There are philosophical aspects to this, you see," the Eighteenth added. "Aspects that go beyond her particular case."
"Correct," the Twelfth said. "And those aspects-"
"Please," a quiet voice said.
The other Elders felt instantly silent, and the Prime stiffened with respect as the Elder who'd spoken left the group and came toward him. Not just another former Prime, but the First. The Zhirrzh who'd been chosen as their world's last hope by the clan leaders assembled together on that final smoking battlefield of the Third Eldership War. The Zhirrzh who'd stood stoically before them and been stripped forever of all family and clan ties. The Zhirrzh who'd accepted the awesome task of turning generations of hatred and mistrust into first an armistice and then a lasting peace. And who had succeeded.
The First seldom spoke at these gatherings. When he did, they all listened.
"Perhaps you do not see, Twenty-ninth," he said in that same quiet voice, "because you regard the past from too great a distance. You see history as events that happened to other Zhirrzh instead of as a force that has not only molded our society but also strongly influenced the ways in which we think. The three Eldership Wars were, at their core, wars over rights: the right
s of common Zhirrzh to have theirfsss organs preserved as their leaders already had; the rights of Elders to have theirfsss organs protected from deliberate or accidental destruction; the rights of Elders and physicals alike to living space, without one group being displaced to make exclusive room for the other."
The Prime nodded. Yes; and that last conflict was one that was beginning to lift its ugly head again. "I understand, First," he said.
"Good," the First said. "Then consider for a hunbeat what Thrr-pifix-a is really asking. She is asking for Eldership to no longer be a right, but a privilege."
The Prime frowned. That was an angle that hadn't even occurred to him. "I see what you're saying," he said hesitantly. "But can't something like Eldership be both a right and a privilege?"
"In theory, certainly," the First said. "In actual practice, though, it never remains in such balance for long. The Twenty-second is quite right in fearing that other, more radical Zhirrzh will seize upon Thrr-pifix-a's case, twisting it into an attack on Elders and Eldership generally." He gestured to the Second. "It happened twice during my son's tenure as Overclan Prime."
"And once during mine," the Ninth put in.
"And during mine, as well," the Sixteenth added.
"There's no need to list them all," the First said. "The point is that this is not uncharted territory. It's a threat that has raised itself time and again throughout Zhirrzh history, threatening to erode the sense that Eldership is an absolute right that cannot be altered or taken away. If you allow individual Zhirrzh to refuse Eldership, the inevitable result will be Zhirrzh claiming the right to make that same decision not for themselves, but for others. Never mind the lack of a logical connection; it's been demonstrated time and again that that is the direction in which such thinking evolves. The only way to keep that from happening is to make sure we never take that first step."
"And so the very idea must be suppressed," the Prime said.
"Yes," the First agreed solemnly. "As quickly as possible. As ruthlessly as necessary."
"I see," the Prime said, a shiver running through him as he looked around the room. He'd never heard even rumors of such incidents-he, the Overclan Prime of the Zhirrzh people. A ruthless suppression, indeed. "And you're convinced that suppression is the only way? All of you?"
"Do you doubt our word?" the Twelfth demanded, the pitch of his voice dropping imperiously. "Our combined experience alone-"
"Please," the First said again. "Of course we can't guarantee that this is the only way, Twenty-ninth. No one can. But at the very least, any such movement against Eldership would be a serious distraction for the Zhirrzh people. And we cannot afford even a beat of distraction. Not now. Not as we battle for our survival against these conquerors."
"No, I suppose not," the Prime murmured. "Very well. You've presented the problem. Have you likewise prepared a solution?"
"We have," the Sixteenth rumbled. "The problem arises not because of what this Thrr-pifix-a wants but because of what she is: a common, reasonable, respectable person. As you yourself said, there are crazed fanatics all the time who don't want Eldership."
"Yes," the Prime said grimly. He saw where this was going now, all right. "And therefore what we need to do is prove Thrr-pifix-a to be as crazed as any of the rest of them."
"I take it from your voice that you don't approve," the Twenty-eighth suggested.
The Prime looked him square in the face. "No, Father, I don't," he said bluntly. "I don't like using the office of Overclan Prime this way. It feels far too much like an abuse of the power I've been granted."
"Then perhaps you should resign," the Twelfth snapped. "An Overclan Prime who's afraid of his power is of no use at all to the Zhirrzh people."
"Or perhaps he's all the more valuable to them," the Prime snapped back. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't it the abuse of personal power that has led to most of our wars?"
"Well stated," the Eighteenth said approvingly. "But as it happens, the abuse of personal power-not yours-is a second problem that you're currently facing. Our proposal is that you solve both of these problems with the same knife."
The Prime frowned at him. "I'm listening."
"It's really quite simple," the Twelfth said. "You have on the one side Thrr-pifix-a of the Kee'rr clan, who wishes to decline Eldership. On the other side you have Speaker Cvv-panav of the Dhaa'rr, whose ambition is clearly to build his clan's power beyond even the height of its old political dominance." He eyed the Prime. "This latter, I presume, is not news to you."
"Hardly," the Prime assured him sourly. "Cvv-panav sees himself as the head of a new Dhaa'rr empire."
"And because of that he must be made to stumble," the Twelfth said. "Not to fall, but to stumble. Here is what we propose."
The twenty-nine of them talked long into the latearc... and in the end the Prime reluctantly gave in. At the least, he told himself, it would reduce the distractions that were being created by Speaker Cvv-panav's drive for power, allowing all of them to concentrate more fully on their war of survival.
And if it hurt an old, harmless female... well, perhaps that was the price that had to be paid.
The price of Zhirrzh survival. And of the Prime's own education regarding the painful duties that sometimes came with power.
11
The door to the metal room swung open, the muffled clang bringing Prr't-zevisti out of one of the dreamy mental wanderings that seemed to pass for sleep among Elders. He eased to the edge of the lightworld as a single Human came into the room and flicked on the light.
Good luck was with him: it was the Human called Doctor-Cavan-a. A Human who, bearing a Zhirrzh female-style name, ironically enough did indeed seem to be a female. The Humans had been doing a lot of rearranging in this room lately, moving the shelves around and changing what was being stored on them, and as a result Doctor-Cavan-a hadn't been around much. To Prr't-zevisti's annoyance, too-his inspections of the Humans who came in here were necessarily slow and stealthy, and there were still a number of areas of Human anatomy that he hadn't yet been able to get to. Most notably that organ in the lower abdomen that some young searcher on Base World 12 had speculated might be a Human equivalent of the Zhirrzhfsss organ. Not that anyone seriously believed it was.
But at any rate, she was back. Now, with a little more good luck, maybe she'd stay put for a while.
Doctor-Cavan-a went to one side of the room and pushed a small box a half stride farther into a corner, then turned and gestured a hand toward the door. "All right," she said. "Bring it in."
There was a grunted response, a clink of metal on metal, and the front end of a large tablelike slab with thick side supports appeared in the doorway. A very different sort of table from the ones the two Zhirrzh bodies had been dissected on, Prr't-zevisti noted. This one had several indentations and clamps scattered around its upper surface, apparently deliberately positioned. The rear edge flowed up into a ridge with small apertures and various controllike devices set into it. Not an autopsy examination stand, this, but more like some alien version of a searcher's laboratory table.
Abruptly, a twinge of low-level pain lanced through him. Prr't-zevisti tensed, forcing himself to keep quiet. An Elderdeath weapon again, its beam impinging on hisfsss cutting sitting there in its box on one of the shelves. It had been happening more and more frequently lately, and Prr't-zevisti still hadn't decided whether it was a deliberate attack against him or merely a side effect of some general weapons testing.
One thing was certain, though. Despite Supreme Ship Commander Dkll-kumvit's efforts at the beginning of this invasion, the Humans clearly still had access to Elderdeath weapons. Maybe not as powerful or long-range as the two the heavy air-assault craft had knocked out, but undoubtedly just as dangerous at close range. A potentially vital discovery, and he could only hope he would be able to find a way out of here with it before Commander Thrr-mezaz's warriors launched their attack on the place.
Assuming, of course, the attack ever came. Prr't-zev
isti had heard disturbing rumors before his capture that Warrior Command was preparing expeditionary forces against more of the Human worlds, forces that were supposedly going to be launched before the current beachheads were anything but minimally secured.
It was a strategy that made no sense at all to Prr't-zevisti, even given how admittedly out-of-date his own warrior training and experience were. But if true, it might explain why Thrr-mezaz hadn't yet moved against the Humans' stronghold. The warriors had lost both of their heavy air-assault craft and several of their Stingbirds in the initial invasion, and without adequate reinforcements an attack would be nothing less than lunacy cubed.
The two other Humans finished rolling the table into the room and left, leaving the female Human alone inside. The door swung shut behind them, and as it did so, the nearby Elderdeath weapon stopped.