Chapter Eighteen
If you look hard enough, there are always surprises in this universe.
—Tulyan Wisdom
Inside the inverted, floating dome of the Council Chamber, Hari’Adab addressed the small gathering, choosing to emit synchronized, pulsing sounds from his puckish little mouth. It was not an orifice that had been part of his natural-born state, but was instead something he had improvised (and varied slightly from time to time) when he became old enough to care about his appearance. Now, dressed in a flowing robe that cascaded over his mounds of fat, the Emir paced in front of the wide council bench.
“Since you know my name and I know some of yours, allow me to introduce two of my companions.” He motioned back to the aeromutati who stood off to one side, just behind him. “This is Parais d’Olor, the gentlest of all Mutatis, a person who brings peace to my heart.”
He nodded somberly in her direction, then looked back to the other side, where Kajor Yerto Bhaleen stood with military erectness. After introducing him by title and name, he said, “Yerto is the highest officer in the Military High Command. He gives me advice in matters of war. But he knows, and fully understands, that I seek peace as the highest priority of my people.”
Noting skepticism on the faces of Doge Anton and Noah Watanabe, he gazed at them with oval, bright black eyes and said, “The Elders told me of your tremendous military victory over the Parviis. Unfortunately, while you were occupied with that, the Merchant Prince Alliance and the Mutati Kingdom fell to conquerors.”
The Humans glared at him. Then Anton responded, “Between us, we may have three planets left. Whatever the case, we will fight back.”
Beside them, a large Tulyan and a Human-looking woman watched Hari warily. The young Emir, with a racial ability to detect subtle details of physical appearance, noticed immediately that the female was not really Human, but had altered her appearance to look that way. She was not, however, a Mutati. What was she, then? Wondering if her companions knew of her secret identity, the Emir decided she would bear close watching. That one could be dangerous.
In a careful tone, he said, “We each have our own terrible burdens to bear, Doge Anton. And we must face reality. Our peoples need to put our wasteful, ancient feud to rest.”
“Mutatis have never shown us anything but aggression,” Anton said, with a glower.
“That will change, now that I am in charge. The old ways have not been productive or kind to anyone, so I refuse to continue them. Over the centuries, billions and billions of Mutatis and Humans have died due to our ongoing wars. It makes no sense.”
“War is the biggest polluter of all,” Noah said, somberly.
“Ah, yes, the famous galactic ecologist. I have heard many things about you, Mr. Watanabe. My father used to speak of you derisively, but he and I never agreed on much of anything.” The Emir smiled, but it didn’t hold, and tears began to stream down his face.
In a halting tone, as if hardly able to utter the words, Hari’Adab told of the horrendous error Zad Qato had made in the trajectory calculations on a Demolio shot, and how it had destroyed the beautiful Mutati homeworld of Paradij, killing all of its populace. Billions of lives lost due to one miscalculation. As he spoke he trembled, and tears streamed down his face. “I … I’m sorry,” he said, wiping his face.
The big Tulyan stepped closer to Hari. “I am Eshaz,” he said. “Do not be alarmed, but I must make skin contact with you. Is the back of your neck all right?”
“The truthing touch.” Hari looked up at the seated Elders. “But they have already done this to me, to Parais, and all of the other Mutatis with me. They have also done the same with HibAdu prisoners we turned over to them.”
The Tulyan hesitated, looked to his superiors for guidance.
“Go ahead,” First Elder Kre’n said to Eshaz. “You are especially gifted in this area. Perhaps you will find something we missed.”
Eshaz touched the back of Hari’s neck and the Emir felt the coarseness of the reptilian hand on his skin. It remained there for only a few moments, before Eshaz withdrew and announced, “He is being honest with us. The shapeshifter leader bears us no ill will and he intends to take the Mutati people in a new direction.”
“If he can save the remains of his race, of course,” the peculiar woman said.
Hari nodded, trying to be dispassionate.
“We were aware of the loss of your homeworld,” Noah said.
“Oh? How?”
“I have certain … um, paranormal … abilities that permit me to peer into the universe from time to time. Where Paradij used to be, I saw only a debris field floating in space. I did not, however, know how it happened, or why.”
“It has been said that we live in a universe of magic,” Hari said. “You are, perhaps, one of the primary examples of that.”
“And an entire race of shapeshifters is another,” the woman said.
“And you are?” Hari asked, in his most polite tone.
“Tesh Kori. I’ve noticed you looking at me strangely. Is there a particular reason for that?”
“Maybe it is a defect of my personality. If I have offended you, I apologize most sincerely.”
“It’s not that, not at all.” She exchanged glances with Eshaz, then added, “You have discerned something about me. Please, share with everyone here what it is.”
“Are you certain you want me to do that?” Hari looked around at the Humans and Tulyans in the great chamber.
“I have nothing to hide from them. These are my friends. And if Eshaz’s report on you is correct, you might become one of them yourself.”
“We shall see about that.” He smiled. “For one thing, I see that you are a woman of considerable charm. In my experience, I must tell you that charming people are to be watched more closely than others.”
“Because they can be manipulative, you mean?” she said, looking past him at Parais d’Olor.
“Precisely.”
She lifted her chin haughtily. “And you have come all the way from the Mutati Kingdom to warn everyone about me?”
Laughter echoed around the large chamber, from the Elders and from her own companions.
Maintaining his composure, Hari said, “Madam, I would have said nothing about anything I might have noticed but you have pressed me to speak. Very well, you are not what you appear to be. By that, I mean, you are not Human.”
“She’s a Parvii, and we all know it,” Eshaz said. “Do you think we didn’t achieve full openness with her, just as we have verified from you?”
“I see. A member of the defeated race. I have heard of you. Not exactly shapeshifters, from what I hear. Some sort of magnification system, I am told.”
“Your reports are accurate,” Tesh said. “Science or magic? Where does one end and the other begin?”
“Where, indeed?” Hari said. We’re going to need a lot of both if our races are to survive the present catastrophe.”
“You refer to the HibAdu matter, of course,” First Elder Kre’n said, from the bench. “But there are other, even more pressing matters that you might not be aware of.” She looked at the two other Elders with her, at Eshaz, and then at Noah Watanabe.
“Something worse than the HibAdus?” Hari said. “But how can that be?”
“The galaxy, we’re sad to inform you, is crumbling. We took a huge podship fleet away from the Parviis in order to set up a massive galactic repair program. When there is more time, we will tell you more. But suffice to tell you now that in ancient times the Sublime Creator of the galaxy assigned an important duty to the Tulyan race. We were the caretakers of the weblike galactic infrastructure, with jurisdiction over all podships, for the purpose of performing our important work.”
Hari struggled to keep up with the new information, but decided not to ask questions. He and the others here knew there had been a feeling-out process among those present as they got to know one another, and that the apparent small talk had not been that at all. It had been important to get the relationships sorted out among themselves. It still was.
“I want to work with you in any way possible,” Hari said. “The last I checked, much of my most elite military force remained intact, holding out against the attackers at Dij.”
He formed a frown on his fleshy face, and his snout twitched as he turned his gaze on Doge Anton. Then the shapeshifter leader asked, “I assume you are going to assign podship assets to the defense of the Merchant Prince Alliance?”
“We’re working through those details now,” the youthful doge said.
“Assuming you send some military assets to the MPA, might I ask that some be assigned to assist the Mutati Kingdom as well?”
“It is possible,” First Elder Kre’n said. “Now, we must move quickly. Far beyond Human and Mutati domains the entire galaxy is a battlefield and we must triage it, assigning our assets on a priority basis.”
The Tulyan leader looked around at the small assemblage, and announced, “You have all come to me, my Human and Mutati friends—and my one Parvii friend, of course—and all of us should consider ourselves caretakers of the galactic web. It is a shared responsibility among races at a time of crisis like none other in the annals of history.”
Doors opened around the chamber and robed Tulyan dignitaries marched in from several directions. They took seats at the remaining council chairs on the curved bench. The Tulyan Elders—twenty of them now—all conferred for several minutes in a language that Hari could not understand.
Then Kre’n leaned forward and announced, “Eighty percent of our podships will be assigned to galactic recovery operations and twenty percent to Human and Mutati military operations. Doge Anton, you shall have the authority to work out the proper allocation of those assets.”
Anton and Noah nodded in deference to the Council leader. Then the young doge said, “I concur fully. The welfare of the entire galaxy must take precedence over the military threats.”
“We would prefer to allocate fewer ships to the HibAdu matter, but our technicians are studying the two laboratory-bred podships that the Emir brought with him—and they’ve already determined that such vessels cause damage to the podways on which they travel. Tiny green fibers of the Timeweb infrastructure have been found in the undercarriage tracks of the lab-pods.” Kre’n scowled. “Those ships are burning up the podways. As you can see, Doge Anton, your duties coincide with our own ecological recovery operations.”
“I understand,” Anton said.
Kre’n continued in a solemn tone. “When you succeed in your military operations—and I have every confidence that you will—we shall expect to reassign your podships to galactic restoration projects. Your primary responsibilities are to remove the artificial podships from service, and to save Human and Mutati worlds.”
“It will be done,” Anton said. “We’ll hit the HibAdus with everything we have, starting from the three planetary fronts.”
With a sense of urgency in the air, the Council of Elders adjourned the meeting and called for new ones to begin in different portions of the large chamber—to deal with the galactic ecology and HibAdu crises. Decisions had to be made quickly so that the ships and crews could be dispatched where they were most needed.
***