"Letting us go?" Qlaa-nuur echoed, looking around. "I don't believe it."
"No, they just haven't reacted yet," Vstii-suuv agreed tightly. "This is our one chance, Commander. I strongly recommend we take it."
Thrr-mezaz looked back up at the aircraft, an eerie feeling pricking at the base of his tongue. The Human-Conqueror commander was letting them go. Just as he himself had allowed that Human-Conqueror ground-warrior team to escape four fullarcs ago north of the village.
"Hold your fire," he told the others. "That's an order." He took one last look around and started down the steep slope. "Come on, let's get back to the transport."
They didn't believe him, of course. Neither of them did. Not until they were airborne again with no sign of pursuit.
Vstii-suuv was the first to put it into words. "I don't believe it," he said, staring out the back of the transport at the Human-Conqueror aircraft, still on guard, fading into the distance behind them. "They let us go. Why in the eighteen worlds would they do a thing like that?"
"Maybe as a payback for our not slaughtering their ground warriors when we had the chance," Thrr-mezaz suggested.
"With all due respect, Commander, that's highly dangerous thinking," Qlaa-nuur growled. "These aren't civilized beings we're talking about here. They're vicious barbarian killers. Ascribing Zhirrzh-like characteristics to them will do nothing but tempt us into blocked-street thinking."
"Perhaps," Thrr-mezaz said. "Perhaps not. They have a highly advanced technology; they must have a certain degree of civilization to go along with it. And if appreciation toward an enemy is beyond them, then perhaps their commander let us go for the same reason I let his warriors go: because he wants to find out what we were doing out there. Maybe that will also induce him to let us get back inside his territory. Assuming, of course, that we're able to get a new cutting from Warrior Command."
"Or from the Dhaa'rr," Vstii-suuv murmured, his voice thoughtful.
Thrr-mezaz looked at him, frowning in mild surprise. Vstii-suuv had been decidedly hostile about the whole Prr't-zevisti cutting idea back on the climb. Yet he'd now brought the subject up on his own. And not as a prelude to an argument, either, from the tone.
And then he understood. "You saw it," he said. "Didn't you?"
"I think so," Vstii-suuv admitted. "You did, too?"
"About the same as you," Thrr-mezaz nodded. "I saw something. I'm not sure what."
"What are you talking about?" Qlaa-nuur asked. "What did you see?"
"Maybe nothing," Vstii-suuv said hesitantly. "Maybe-well, maybe Prr't-zevisti."
Qlaa-nuur looked back and forth between the two of them. "Are you sure?"
"No, we're not sure at all," Thrr-mezaz told him. "Which is why I don't want either of you telling anyone else about this. Most won't believe us; the rest will assume we're spinning the story for political reasons."
"We are going to dosomething, though, aren't we?" Vstii-suuv asked.
"Oh, you can bet on that," Thrr-mezaz assured him. "One way or the other, we're going to get back up there and find out what's going on."
Vstii-suuv straightened a little. "We'll be ready whenever you want us, Commander," he said, his voice brisk and professional. "You can count on us."
And he could, Thrr-mezaz realized. He really could. The reluctant warriors who'd flown up there with him-the even more reluctant and distrustful climbing companions who'd hurried down the mountain behind him under the hostile eyes of the Human-Conquerors-those two were gone. With even a hint of a possibility that Prr't-zevisti might still be alive, they had suddenly turned instead into staunch allies.
But then, the Aree'rr clan had always had a long and proud warrior tradition. And Prr't-zevisti had once been a warrior.
Whether that tradition and their newfound enthusiasm would survive another trip into the heart of enemy territory was something else again. Thrr-mezaz would just have to hope the Dhaa'rr leaders would give them all an opportunity to find out.
15
There were two Zhirrzh standing there when Thrr-pifix-a answered her door: young males, dressed in conservative outfits, smiling cordially yet with a serious undertone to their expressions. As near as she could remember, she'd never seen either of them before. "Yes?" she said.
"Good postmidarc to you," the taller, slightly older of the two said. His voice matched his smile: friendly, yet serious. "We're looking for a lady named Thrr-pifix-a; Kee'rr."
"I'm she," Thrr-pifix-a said. Door-doors, probably, here to try to sell her something she didn't need at a price she couldn't afford. But that was all right. She'd already finished her garden work for this fullarc, and she always enjoyed the mental challenge of a good argument over someone's sales spiel. "And you?"
"Call me Korthe," he invited. "This is Dornt, my associate. May we come in?"
Thrr-pifix-a looked at them, the first twinges of uneasiness tugging at her. First names only, with no indication of family or even clan. Certainly not door-doors, then. Certainly not casual visitors of any sort. "I'm really rather busy-"
"It's all right," the younger Zhirrzh, Dornt, assured her. "Really. We're here to help you with your problem."
"What problem is that?"
"We'd prefer to discuss it indoors," Korthe said. "May we come in?"
Thrr-pifix-a took a careful breath. They could be robbers or undesirables of any sort; and if so, she would be foolish to let them past her doorway. But on the other side, considering her age and her isolation out here, robbers would hardly need to ask her permission to get inside. More likely, they were just some sort of religious cultists. "All right," she said, stepping aside. "The conversation room is straight ahead."
They all went in and sat down on the couches. "Now," Thrr-pifix-a said, looking between them. "What's all this about?"
"Another hunbeat, please," Dornt said, fiddling with a small device he'd pulled from a waist pouch. "We want to make sure this conversation is private. There."
Thrr-pifix-a frowned, straining to hear. There was a new sound in the room, one that her failing ear slits could just barely pick up. A sort of high-pitched humming sound.
"Excellent," Korthe said, his earlier smile completely submerged in seriousness now. "We know you're busy, Thrr-pifix-a, so with your permission we'll get directly to business. Have you ever heard of an organization called Freedom of Decision for All?"
She'd called it, all right: religious cultists. "No, I don't believe I have."
"I'm not really surprised," Korthe said. "We're still fairly new to this area of Oaccanv. And certainly the various clan and family leaders who do know about us are working hard to keep us quiet. Very simply, FoDfA is composed of people who, just like you, believe strongly that each and every Zhirrzh should have the right to choose whether or not to accept Eldership."
Thrr-pifix-a frowned at him. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"
"You heard correctly," Korthe said. "We believe Eldership should be your own personal choice. No one else's."
Thrr-pifix-a took a deep breath, a rush of surprise and an odd sense of relief flooding through her. So she wasn't alone in this. Thrr-tulkoj had been right: there were indeed others who believed the same way she did. "You don't know how it feels to hear you say that," she said quietly. "I thought I was the only one."
"Hardly," Korthe said with a faint smile. "Our organization consists of over two million Zhirrzh."
Thrr-pifix-a felt her midlight pupils narrow in surprise. "Twomillion?"
"Two million," he confirmed. "And that doesn't count those sympathetic to our philosophy who for one reason or another don't want to join. Rest assured, Thrr-pifix-a; you have plenty of company out there."
"How else do you think we knew about you?" Korthe shrugged. "We have information sources all over the eighteen worlds."
"And," Dornt added quietly, "we stand ready to assist you in putting your choice into action."
"That's very kind of you," Thrr-pifix-a said. "And I'd certainly appreciate any help you can give me. I've tried talking to the family leaders, but the clan leaders have so far refused even to grant me a hearing-"
"Excuse me, Thrr-pifix-a," Korthe interrupted gently. "But I don't think you quite understand. Our group doesn't focus on advocacy or negotiation. We concentrate on, shall we say, more direct methods."
Thrr-pifix-a frowned, looking back and forth between them. "What do you mean?"
"You seem a straightforward person," Korthe said. "Allow me to be equally so. What we propose to do is retrieve yourfsss organ from your family shrine and deliver it here to you. Where you may do with it whatever you choose."
For a long beat Thrr-pifix-a stared at him, replaying that sentence over and over again in her mind. "You're not serious," she said at last. "You mean...steal myfsss organ?"
"Why not?" Dornt shrugged. "You tried to do the same thing just three fullarcs ago, didn't you?"
"Yes, but that was me," Thrr-pifix-a said. "My risk, for my gain. I can't ask you to commit such a crime for me."
"You don't have to ask," Dornt said. "We're volunteering."
"Besides, you prejudice yourself when you use the wordsteal," Korthe added. "In actual fact yourfsss was stolen fromyou, back when you were ten. It doesn't belong to the Kee'rr clan or the Thrr family. It belongs to you."
Thrr-pifix-a felt her tail twitching nervously. The same argument-many of the same words, in fact-that she'd used in trying to persuade Thrr-gilag to her point of view a few fullarcs ago. But to hear it being argued in her own home by total strangers was more than a little disconcerting. "What about the risks?" she asked. "I'm sorry to keep coming back to this, but you're talking about committing a major crime here. And for no gain for yourselves."
"On the contrary," Korthe said. "We stand to gain a great deal: an incredible measure of freedom for all Zhirrzh. The family and clan leaders know perfectly well what they're doing-why else would they have such heavy guard around the shrines? It's the common people who don't know or don't understand what's been done to them. Every time we of FoDfA take action like this, we're injecting another tiny bit of awareness into Zhirrzh culture. Eventually, we'll prevail... and then we all win."
Thrr-pifix-a nodded slowly. It still felt odd. All of it did. But they were here, and they were offering their help.
And it was for certain that she would never be able to do it on her own. "How would you go about it?" she asked. "How exactly, I mean."
"That's nothing you need to worry about," Dornt soothed her. "We'll handle all the details."
"No, that's not what I meant," Thrr-pifix-a said, flicking her tongue in a negative. "I meant would you have to hurt anyone to do it. Because I wouldn't be able to accept that. The chief protector at our shrine, Thrr-tulkoj, is a personal friend of my son's-"
"Now, what did Dornt just say?" Korthe said, his tone mildly reproving. "Didn't he say you didn't need to worry about such things?"
"I'll worry about whatever I choose to worry about, thank you," Thrr-pifix-a snapped. "And unless you can promise me right now that there'll be no danger to the shrine's protectors, you can just pack up and leave."
"Please," Korthe said, holding up a hand. "Thrr-pifix-a; please. We understand your concerns, but you protest far more than necessary. Of course we'll guarantee that no one will be hurt. Our whole philosophy of respect for the rights and dignity of individual Zhirrzh would be meaningless if we didn't."
"If you're assured of nothing else this postmidarc, be assured of that," Dornt added earnestly. "When we bring yourfsss to you, it will not be at any cost to anyone else."
"I'll hold you to that," Thrr-pifix-a warned.
"Of course," Korthe said. "Then it's decided."
And suddenly Thrr-pifix-a realized that it was. Somehow, without her making a real conscious decision, it was indeed decided. "All right," she said, hearing the defiance of uncertainty in her voice. "Yes. It's decided. When?"
"Next latearc," Korthe said, gesturing to Dornt and standing up. "We can let ourselves out."
"Wait a beat," Thrr-pifix-a frowned as Dornt also stood."Next latearc? As in just over a fullarc from right now?"
"I see no advantage in waiting," Korthe said. "Do you?"
"Well... no. No, I suppose not," Thrr-pifix-a conceded reluctantly. "It just seems so sudden."
"Suddenness is a great ally," Dornt said. "Especially against the sluggishness of a layered leadership structure."
"But I was just caught trying to take it myself," Thrr-pifix-a pointed out. "Won't they be expecting me to try again?"
"They might be expecting you," Dornt said, smiling faintly. "They certainly won't be expecting us."
Thrr-pifix-a swallowed. "And no one will be hurt?"
"There will be no need for violence of any sort," Dornt said quietly. "Trust us on that. We have many methods, and many contacts."
"It'll be all right, Thrr-pifix-a," Korthe added. "Really it will. Please try not to worry. We'll be back before you know it."
His face turned serious. "And then your future will be in your hands, and in your hands alone. As it should be."
They left... and for a long time after the door closed behind them, Thrr-pifix-a just sat there in her small conversation room. Wondering if her decision, so quickly and strangely made, had been the right one.
And wondering, too, at the sudden uneasiness simmering inside her.
16
The end of the wave front disappeared behind the massive sea rock that sat fifty strides out into the ocean, its base lapped by the white-tinged blue-green water. For a beat nothing happened; then, abruptly, the edge of the rock seemed to explode into a burst of white froth as the wave smashed into it. The wind caught the froth, curving it partway around the rock, changing grayish stone to black where it hit. The froth itself turned into a fan of rivulets and tiny impromptu waterfalls as the water ran down the rock and returned to the sea.
Thrr-gilag took a deep breath, savoring the sharp-salty air as he gazed past the sea rock and tried to guess which of those incoming lines of white-capped wave fronts would be the next spectacular splash. And tried not to think of what might be happening, without him, back there in the Klnn family hall.
"Composing poetry?" a familiar voice called from behind him.
Thrr-gilag turned. Dressed in full formal Klnn family attire, Klnn-dawan-a's brother Klnn-torun was making his careful and precise way across the last few strides of rock-strewn beach that separated them. "What makes you think I'd be composing poetry?" Thrr-gilag called back over the roar of the waves.