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Chapter 38

When Kralik emerged from the converted submarine after it landed at Pascagoula, the fierce afternoon light made him squint. The heat, on the other hand, even for Mississippi in late summer, didn't seem bad at all. The air was not nearly as hot as that within the sub and felt almost cool against his face. The stench of scorched hull washed over him, combined with the miasma of unwashed bodies and sweat that the sub's air scrubbers had not been able to suppress.

Blue-green ocean glittered just a quarter of a mile away, but closer in, a restless tide of humans and Jao waited at the edge of the tarmac. A few hopeful souls held up signs of welcome, but most were silent, radiating dread.

Then he spotted Caitlin, lovely and straight, watching as he forced his rubbery legs to climb down the portable staircase the base workers had brought onto the tarmac. Numb with fatigue, he had to cling to the handrails.

A murmur went up from the crowd as the rest of the dazed crew appeared one by one behind him, their faces tight with strain. There wasn't a man or woman among them, he thought, who wasn't running on pure nerve at this point.

Overhead, the golden light streamed down with only a hint of the same devil's fire that fueled this entire solar system. He realized it would take some time before he could stand out in the sun without remembering those hellish currents.

"Ed!" Caitlin dashed forward, bursting through a temporary cordon erected to keep onlookers back.

A jinau soldier caught her around the waist, but Kralik waved him off. "It's okay," he called. "The lady's with me. My fiancée, in fact."

His voice was hoarse with weariness, but the last sentence picked up his spirits immensely. Kralik had led a lonely life, the past two decades. There had been girlfriends here and there—two of them fairly serious—but the peculiarities of his position as a top jinau officer had always seemed to get in the way of any really serious romance. Though Caitlin was much younger than he was, with her that wouldn't be a problem. She understood the Jao and the realities of dealing with them up close even better than he did.

What was even more important—for once, he cast aside his normal caution—was that he'd come to adore the woman. It didn't hurt anything, of course, that she was so damn good-looking.

She threw herself into his arms and pressed her lips to his, kissing him hard before she drew back. It was an inexperienced kiss, but you certainly couldn't fault her enthusiasm.

"They said almost half the subs were lost." Her voice cracked. "And they didn't have a survivors' list. I guess—" She straightened. "I guess that sort of thing isn't a priority with the Jao."

He drank in her face. Her blue-gray eyes were wet and darkly luminous, the pupils only pinpoints in the bright light. "How bad is it? I know one of the Ekhat ships got past us. Did—"

"Governor Oppuk's forces destroyed it, but not before the Ekhat unleashed its plasma ball over south China." She turned her head and looked back over her shoulder, as though the devastation were visible, even from here. "The loss of life—it was pretty bad, Ed. Even with everybody taking what shelter they could, that's a densely populated area. Whole forests are gone, entire ecosystems obliterated, God only knows how many people dead. At least a million, probably a lot more. The Chinese are being as close-mouthed as they usually are."

His jaw tightened and he could feel a knot behind his eyes. "Damnation."

"No," she said and turned her gaze to the scorched subs. Other men and women were finding those who'd come to meet them, conducting reunions, but, off to the side, many stood silent, their loved ones lost forever in the burning fires of the sun. Her fingers tightened on his arm. "After seeing what's left of the affected areas, everybody knows this world is lucky to be here at all. If their entire force had gotten through—"

He nodded, then buried his face in her clean-smelling hair and held her close. "Well, it's over."

Caitlin shook her head, still pressed against his shoulder. "No, it isn't, Ed. It may get worse. The comm center is now reporting that Oppuk is preparing bolides." She leaned back and stared at him, hollow-eyed. "They think he's going to start bombarding the planet, in the name of crushing a rebellion. It'll be Chicago and New Orleans—and Everest—a hundred times over."

* * *

A groundcar pulled up, with a military driver. As always, rank had its privileges, even in the midst of disaster. Kralik started to open the door for Caitlin, but she did for herself before he could reach it. He smiled ruefully, half at himself and half at the situation in general. Leave it to Ed Kralik to fall in love with a woman who had Jao habits; sometimes, even, Jao attitudes.

He climbed in after her. He was so weary, the black tarmac seemed to shimmer before his eyes like a heat image. He ached to stretch out in some cool, darkened room with Caitlin in his arms, as he had the night before the submarine fleet had lifted off, but such indulgence was out of the question. Since Oppuk's fury was undimmed, the real battle was most likely just beginning.

He rested his head back against the seat as the groundcar lurched forward, then gained speed. The base slipped past with its strange conglomeration of poured black crystal Jao buildings mingled with stiff-looking human structures.

" 'The woods are lovely, dark and deep,' " he murmured, quoting an old Robert Frost poem. " 'But I have promises to keep.' "

Caitlin nestled in the hollow of his shoulder and sighed. Her fingers stroked his cheek, scraping across stubble. " 'And miles to go before I sleep,' " she said, finishing the lines for him. " 'Miles to go before I sleep.' "

"I need to shave," he said, apologetically.

"No, don't." She chuckled softly into his ear. "Your beard looks like it'd be all gray. It'll make you look like a distinguished cradle robber, so I can tell everybody I was bowled over by your suave mature charm."

Kralik thought about it. "Nobody will believe that for an instant," he predicted. "I drink beer, just for starters."

" 'Course not," she murmured happily. "They'll think I'm an airhead for saying it, but that'll still keep them from nattering at me. Nobody gives unwanted advice to a blond airhead. What's the point, since she's obviously got the brains of a carrot anyway?"

* * *

Aille had thought, upon returning to Terra, that flow would ease. But it was swifter than ever, rushing with such urgency that he had to tighten his timesense and slow perception by several degrees in order to be able to think.

It was Oppuk, he realized. The Governor's flotilla had suffered losses fighting the one surviving Ekhat ship, but enough ships had survived for Oppuk to order them to begin outfitting bolides for planetary bombardment. Hami had told him that when she tried to speak to the Governor he simply broke off the comm signal.

Down here on Terra, humans were going about the remediation of the environmental damage in an orderly, methodical manner. Ben Stockwell had taken responsibility, as ordered, reaching out to other political moieties, though the affected areas were not contiguous with his own. Since it was obvious that a native would understand both what was needed and available much more thoroughly than a Jao, Aille allowed Stockwell's efforts to proceed unimpeded. He was well aware, though, that Oppuk was furious with that also—and would present it as further evidence before the Naukra that Aille was leading a rebellion. Not simply kroudh, but a traitor.

Nath had appropriated the Commandant's quarters on the Pascagoula base for Aille's use. Kaul krinnu ava Dano had vacated them to command a ship in the battle above Terra. Although he was numbered among the survivors, Kaul had not yet returned and it was unclear if he would return at all. Dano's stance in Oppuk's preparations for a planetary bombardment was still unknown. Indeed, no one even seemed to know his whereabouts.

Nath thus felt that until the Commandant returned, he had no use for these quarters with their intricate command systems. But Aille did. Finding no fault with her logic, he took possession, appreciative of her typical forethought and practicality. Nath's splendid vai camiti, he had long since realized, was no illusion. Had the female come from a more prestigious clan, she would have advanced much farther in rank by now.

He sat now in the dimness, considering his possible options.

They were few, and none good. Aille now held the allegiance of all the Jao forces on the planet itself—as well as the jinau, of course. But the only spacecraft he had at his disposal, other than his own small ship, were the converted submarines. Those, he dismissed with hardly any thought. The submersibles had done splendidly against the Ekhat fighting under the special conditions which obtained in the solar photosphere, but they would be hopelessly overmatched in an open space battle with Oppuk's flotilla. They were not mounted with lasers, and the human missiles could not be used against Jao electronic countermeasures. Not, at least, without a great deal of time spent in upgrading them—time which did not exist. Oppuk would be ready to begin his bombardment within a few solar cycles.

* * *

"Subcommandant?" a Terran voice said.

He looked up to find Caitlin Stockwell waiting. He was a bit surprised to see that Kralik was not with her, but then realized that the jinau general would be asleep. Humans did not recover as easily as Jao from exhaustion. Kralik would have tried, he was sure, but he was just as sure that Caitlin would have forced him to get some rest.

Her posture, he noted, was a finely executed patient-concern. Aside from the ears, no Pluthrak adult could have done better. She really was quite remarkable. "Yes?"

"There is a new development." Now, her posture wavered, as if she were both hopeful and apprehensive at the same time. "A number of ships have arrived in the solar system—a great number—and they say they are from the Bond of Ebezon. They are ordering Governor Oppuk to refrain from using the bolides. Indeed, they have ordered him to dismantle them."

Aille rose. "The Bond? Already here? But that is not possible." He gazed at the wall, confused. "They would have only received word of the situation here very recently. In that short time, they could have dispatched at most a single vessel."

Then came sudden clarity, and for a moment his posture slipped involuntarily into childish astonishment.

"They have been planning for this," he half-whispered, "and for a long time. Their strategists are famously patient."

"What does it mean, Subcommandant?" Caitlin asked nervously.

"How numerous is the Bond fleet? And what class of vessels?"

"Hami says at least sixty ships. And they seem to be very big ones. Hami calls them 'harriers.' "

The Bond of Ebezon's soldiers were named after that class of ships. The very largest, and the mightiest, ever built by Jao. Not even Narvo could match them, in size if not in number.

Sixty of them!

Aille composed himself. "It will mean whatever the Bond of Ebezon decrees that it means. Of that you may be certain. And there will be no bolide bombardment of this planet."

The young woman's fear was just under the surface, covered by a patina of self-discipline—and now, hope as well.

"Are you sure?"

Yaut entered that moment. "Sixty-three harriers. You understand what this means? The Bond's strategists must have been planning this stroke for a very long time. Pity Narvo!"

The fraghta gave Aille a penetrating look, leaving unsaid what was now equally obvious. The Bond's strategists and the Pluthrak kochanau must have been working together in secret.

Thus, Aille, in his innocence and youthful vigor, sent to Terra. Namth camiti, used as a scalpel to cut open a festering wound and expose the corrupted flesh to the light. With, needless to say, the scalpel never being told what it was supposed to do.

Clever, that. A self-aware scalpel would not cut cleanly, or deeply enough. Aille had cut to the bone.

Yaut turned to Caitlin. "Is he sure of what?"

"That Oppuk won't . . . won't be able to destroy the Earth?"

It was Yaut's turn—just for an instant—to lapse into astonishment. The embarrassment that caused him leant extra force to his growled words.

"Of course he won't! How could he? The Bond has decreed otherwise."

She still didn't really understand, Aille saw. More gently than Yaut, he said: "Caitlin, believe it true. This is why the Bond exists. No Jao will defy them. Even should Oppuk's unsanity drive him to, his soldiers would refuse to obey."

She sagged weakly against the wall behind her. Then, to his surprise, began that peculiar form of human laughter known as giggling.

"I guess that means I'll have to start looking for a wedding dress, after all. And Tamt! She'll have conniptions when I tell her about being a 'maid of honor.' "

Yaut stared at her. "Sometimes I still think humans are all insane."

* * *

Oppuk bristled with pure fury, every line, every angle, crossed and recrossed until no one could look at him and not feel the extent of his anger. All of his subordinates and servitors wisely stayed as far away from him as possible.

They were all Jao. He had killed the last of his human servitors a short time earlier, displeased at the condition of the salts in the miserable little pool provided for him aboard the ship.

As he floated in the pool, he savored the moments to come as much as he detested the pool itself.

If the Pluthrak had just followed orders, Terra would be a smoking ruin now! No, not even that. Smoke required oxygen, and the Ekhat would have stripped the planet of its atmosphere. Not worth even a manned outpost, much less the extensive commitment of troops and ships required to hold it. Best of all, Oppuk would be on his way to some new posting and the frustrations of dealing with this benighted species would be a fading memory.

So be it. If Stockwell survived the coming bombardment, Oppuk would have him put down as soon as he reestablished control over the planet. If she survived as well, he would force Stockwell's daughter to observe the execution of her father. Humans were quite sentimental about both progeny and parents. He'd seen that over and over again in his long assignment here. They could make an amazing amount of fuss over the most insignificant and unpromising of their clan members. She was sure to provide more diversion than he'd had in quite some time.

In fact, he thought he would have all of the surviving regional human governors executed in the coming days, just to drive home his point. As well as all of the top jinau officers, of course.

Oppuk heaved out of the water and shook himself dry before accepting harness and trousers from a cowed member of his service who scuttled back out of reach, radiating abject-fear.

Over on the far wall, the main doorfield crackled and faded to golden sparks. Four figures entered, the top officers of his command vessel.

"You wish?" He spoke curtly, not looking at them, irritated at the disturbance.

"The Bond of Ebezon has arrived in the solar system, Governor. A great fleet. The Harriers have ordered us to dismantle the bolides."

* * *

Oppuk struggled desperately to retain his composure, to show nothing of his shock.

He failed, rather miserably. His posture one of pure desperation, he lunged through the door toward the control center. Wisely, the four officers quickly stepped aside. He would have trampled them under, otherwise.

* * *

The black-garbed figure of the Harrier in the holo tank was frighteningly enigmatic. He was a short Jao, originally from one of the Dano affiliated clans, judging from his vai camiti, perhaps even Dano itself. But that no longer meant anything, of course.

Oppuk had had little contact with the Bond in his life, but he knew their reputation. The Bond of Ebezon arbitrated between kochan, when kochan could not do so for themselves. Its members were drawn from all kochan, choosing Bond status voluntarily and then forswearing all ties to their birth-kochan, so that they were well and truly naukrat, or neutral. Most astonishing of all was the manner in which they disciplined themselves in both mind and body so their bodies were naukrat as well and betrayed nothing of their innermost thoughts.

"You have been instructed to disarm the bolides," the Harrier said. "We expect you to do so at once."

Oppuk had wondered, even been skeptical. But now, seeing the Harrier commander's posture, he believed. The Harrier's body was almost frighteningly without affect, now not even composed for formal neutrality. Oppuk found it something like conversing with a granite post.

"You do not understand these creatures!" Oppuk exploded. "They are in rebellion, and must be crushed! I will not waste more Jao lives trying to fight them on the planet."

"You could not do so in any event," the Harrier responded, still in that disturbing posture-which-was-not-a-posture. "All Jao ground troops in this system have given their allegiance to Aille krinnu ava Pluthrak. So your protestation of concern for Jao lives is a falsehood, since what you really propose is to destroy the Jao troops as well."

The Harrier's head swiveled, as if he were looking at someone out of the holo tank's image. "Have the flotilla technicians assembling the frameworks evacuated the bolides?"

Oppuk heard a female voice reply: "Yes, Preceptor."

Preceptor. Oppuk suddenly realized he was talking with one of the Bond's five top commanders. A member of its legendary Strategy Circle. That long-unused part of his mind that had once understood how to maneuver in kochan rivalry was crying out shrill warnings.

This was all planned, he realized dumbly. Plotted and schemed for, beginning long ago. I have been herded like a beast into a pen.

"Strip the bolides from the Narvo, Pleniary-Superior," the Preceptor commanded. "Cast them where they will be harmless."

A moment later, the female voice said: "It is done. There is a giant gas planet not far from the asteroid belt where the bolides were being assembled. They will be consumed there with no danger."

Oppuk's eyes moved to the bolide control panel on his own ship, and saw that it was so. The bolide frameworks were nothing more than simple structures embedded in their rocky surface, designed to augment a ship's magnetic control impulses. The bolides were selected for the purpose in the first place, of course, because of their high ferrous content. With the vastly greater power available to their huge ships, the Harriers had simply stripped control of the bolides from Oppuk's own flotilla. Much as an adult easily removes something from a crecheling's hand.

All the more easily, because the technician sitting at the panel had made no attempt whatever to stop them. Indeed, she was sitting back in her chair, her hands resting on her knees.

Oppuk's fury finally had a target it could strike at. He took a stride toward her, raising his hand for a blow.

"Stop him." The Preceptor did not raise his voice, but the two words rang with command. "The Bond strips Oppuk krinnu ava Narvo of all oudh. Any who obey him henceforth will be subject to Harrier punishment."

That was, for all practical purposes, synonymous with being put down. Harrier discipline was more stringent than any kochan's, even Narvo or Dano.

Still, Oppuk managed to strike the tech a first blow. The female's head was jarred by the impact, but she did not flinch otherwise. Indeed, the look in her eyes was simply one of contempt.

A moment later, Oppuk was brought down; overwhelmed, despite his massive build, by every Jao in the control room.

* * *

The Bond Preceptor watched carefully, noting the excessive force with which Oppuk's former subordinates were subduing him. It was closer to a beating than a simple restraint. Great and long-suppressed hatred was welling up here, obviously.

When it was over, he turned away from the holo tank and looked at Kaul krinnu ava Dano, whose fraghta Jutre was standing next to him in the Harrier ship's control center. The Commandant had come immediately to meet the Bond fleet as soon as it emerged from the framepoint, badly stressing his ship's engines. In a frantic hurry, obviously, to put as much distance as possible between Dano and Narvo.

"As I told you," Kaul growled. "A maddened lurret. He is unsane."

The Preceptor was not impressed, though he let none of his contempt for the Dano show in his posture. Kaul had obviously known as much, and for a long time—yet had chosen to remain neutral; even, until very recently, supporting the Narvo. More concerned, as always, with the petty interests of his kochan than the needs of the war against Ekhat.

The Preceptor had been Dano himself, once. He had left his kochan, more than anything, because in the end he could no longer tolerate stupidity and shortsightedness.

Thankfully, having established his neutrality and not-so-innocence, Kaul and his fraghta left the control center. The Preceptor turned back to the holo tank and reset the controls, bringing up an image of the planet they were nearing.

His Pleniary-Superior came to stand beside him. "It seems a beautiful world, at least from this distance," she commented. "I can see no signs of the environmental degradation the Narvo reports tell of constantly."

The last sentence has been spoken in a neutral tone of voice, as befitted one who had risen so high in the Bond's ranks. But the Preceptor knew her quite well, and did not mistake the sarcasm.

"Be careful, Tura," he said softly. "The great danger which faces us now—the second greatest, I should say—is that we too will allow long-festering anger and resentment at Narvo arrogance to erupt out of control. Narvo must be humbled, yes—at long last—but not humiliated. The courage and strength and determination of that kochan has, many times, been the shelter of the Jao—and many other intelligent species. It will be again, if we do not crush its spirit."

In private, the Harriers made no attempt to maintain the strict posture control they exhibited before kochan members. Tura flicked an ear.

"I understand. And the greatest danger?"

He pointed at the blue-and-white image in the holo tank. "There, where the Jao have already failed once. Faced with the first real test of association in our history—I leave aside the matter of the Lleix, when we were too immature to be held responsible—we failed. Completely and disastrously."

"Narvo," she murmured. "The worst choice possible, to have been given oudh over that planet. Even Dano would have been better."

The Preceptor's whiskers flattened. "That is the easy answer, but it is inadequate. Narvo was given oudh because the Naukra so ruled. All Jao are thus, in the end, responsible for their conduct. None questioned the wisdom of the decision, after all, on its own terms. I was there, when the decision was made. The kochan maneuvers concerned only matters of petty status."

"Even Pluthrak?"

He considered his answer. "Yes, even Pluthrak—and still even now, truth be told. Pluthrak is more subtle, yes, but even Pluthrak only sees the needs of the Jao. Which they confuse with the needs for the Jao, which is not the same thing at all."

He adjusted the controls again, now bringing up the image of the galactic disk. "Consider its immensity, Tura. We forget, most often, that even the Ekhat have only spread across a portion of one spiral arm. What lies beyond? What dangers and challenges will we face, after the Ekhat are finally exterminated?"

Tura pondered the image, for a moment, then assumed rueful-amusement. "It is hard for me to imagine a time when we will no longer be fighting the Ekhat," she admitted. Softly, she recited one of the first precepts learned by all newly-joined Harriers: "Ends are not means. So do not let your means determine your ends."

"Yes. And this one too: 'Bad mistakes are always simple ones.' "

He gestured toward the image of the planet. "Conquest is a means to an end, nothing more. Yet always the great danger that faces a conqueror is the simplest—that they will forget their purpose and come to see it as conquest itself."

Again, he adjusted the controls; taking a bit longer, this time, since he was bringing up stored recordings rather than shifting images.

The face of a young Pluthrak appeared in the holo tank.

"What a marvelous vai camiti," Tura said admiringly. "The quintessence of Pluthrak."

The Preceptor grunted. "More, I think. This one may be—at long last!—the transcendence of Pluthrak. I have long found that Pluthrak subtlety can be as exasperating as Narvo force or Dano crudity. Less abrasive, true enough, but still every bit as exasperating. Even more exasperating, at times."

A slight subtlety in Tura's posture indicated some reservations. That did not surprise the Preceptor. Tura had come from one of Pluthrak's many affiliated kochan. Jithra, as it happened, perhaps the closest. She was still relatively new in the Bond, and old kochan ties were hard to overcome completely.

He was not concerned. Over time, Tura would shed those last residues. Patience was one of the Preceptor's most outstanding qualities—the main reason, in fact, that he had been the one selected by the Strategy Circle to oversee their plans for Terra.

Twenty years ago, that had been, to use the native term. A long time, even by the standards of the Strategy Circle.

And now, finally—hopefully—coming to fruition.

He studied the image in the holo tank. "Transcendence," he repeated. "That is what we need. And, perhaps, what we have found. A namth camiti sent to do one thing, who learned to do another. I did not really hope for that. Courage, one can expect from the young. Wisdom, rarely."

"Another thing?"

"A conqueror, Tura, who learned to do what conquerors forget. How to listen."

 

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