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Chapter 43

"No!"

Oppuk found himself lunging at the brazen creature before he had even known he was in motion. Of all the insults heaped upon him, this was the one impossible to bear.

"This is an animal, a savage!"

Oppuk struck her down with a single slapping blow. Unfortunately, she jerked her head back at the last instant, so only his fingers made contact with her cheek. Had he struck her full-handed, as powerful as he was, he would have broken her neck.

As he'd intended. No matter. Fury was still surging through him. He would make good the lack.

The Stockwell female stumbled back and fell, then stared up at him; dazed, but her hands still forming the curves of profound-respect. In that moment, she represented all of Terra to him, a world of barbarians who would not yield to his rightful authority, yet fawned upon the first Pluthrak who flattered them. He threw himself on her.

She tried to fend him off, though it was impossible to do so, as pathetically weak as she was. Oppuk gripped both her fragile wrists in one hand and raised the other for a killing blow. He should have put her down the first time he saw her parody that guard's postures! He—

* * *

Iron fingers jerked him off the struggling female and cast him aside as though his weight meant nothing. His head rocked with a blow, then another and another—and then sheer agony paralyzed him. The same iron fingers had dislocated his ankle; then, the other; and then, so quickly it all seemed as one moment of torture, both of his wrists.

Stunned and crippled, Oppuk sprawled on the sand. Still, he struggled to rise—until iron fingers seized his shoulders and iron landed on his back, low down where it was most vulnerable even on a Jao, and ruptured his spine.

* * *

Yaut was already moving the instant Oppuk began his strike at Caitlin. Moving, in the way that only a great kochan fraghta can move, at a moment of clan outrage. To all those who watched, he seemed more like a predator than a Jao.

But Yaut krinnu Jithra vau Pluthrak was far more dangerous than any predator. With its power and vast associations, Pluthrak could select and shape the finest fraghta. Deadly as well as shrewd—and Jithra was a kochan famous for its savage fighting skills.

Large and powerful as he was, Oppuk had no chance at all. Nor would he, even had he been facing Yaut's charge directly. What followed would simply have taken a bit longer. Not much.

* * *

"Holy shit," hissed Tully. Even his glee at seeing Oppuk brought down was an undertone. Mostly, he was just shaken, finally seeing Yaut's full fury unleashed.

Yojimbo, for sure.

Oppuk's great Jao bones were crushed and mangled in the fraghta's hands like so many chicken wings. Each grip perfectly placed, the maximum possible leverage applied—each blow, the same. Then, a sudden and utterly vicious kneedrop to the lower spine, done while Yaut positioned Oppuk's shoulders to prevent any cushioning of the impact. Tully could hear the vertebra give way.

And I thought he gave me a hard time!

It all took but seconds. Yaut ended by seizing Oppuk's heavy nape and, one-handed, heaving the broken body back onto its knees.

Then, slapping the back of Oppuk's head to lower it and expose the neck vertebrae, Yaut half-crouched and drew a dagger from his harness.

Staring green-eyed with fury at the Narvo representatives, the fraghta bellowed: "I demand his life!"

His posture meant something too, Tully was sure, but he didn't know what. He'd never seen that posture on any Jao before.

Specifically, that is, Tully didn't know what it meant. The general idea was clear enough.

Readiness-to-dismember, let's call it. Or, how about: give-me-any-shit-and-you're-all-dead-meat?

* * *

Nikau krinnu ava Narvo did not think to argue. Oppuk's transgression of custom was so extreme that his life was forfeit the moment the first blow landed. No, the moment the blow was even launched.

Human or not, the female was in Pluthrak's service, not Narvo's—and the fact that the Pluthrak in question was now kroudh was simply irrelevant, under the circumstances.

Bad enough, that Oppuk had admitted to killing a member of his own service. But that deed, however barbarous, was a matter for Narvo to settle privately. Never—never—did the great kochan attack the service of another. They did not do so, for that matter, with the service of a minor kochan. Even a taif. That was the open road to civil war, which the Naukra existed to prevent—and the Bond would prevent even quicker. Had the Pluthrak fraghta not demanded Oppuk's life, the Bond Preceptor would have done so.

In truth, Nikau was relieved. Oppuk's unsanity—outright madness—was so obvious to all that Narvo itself could now escape with comparatively little damage from this hideous affair. They could be faulted for selecting Oppuk in the first place, and for leaving him in place, to be sure. But . . . 

That could be explained away, over time. Eventually, it would be forgotten, as a clean wound leaves behind nothing worse than a scar. And, for the immediate purpose, Oppuk would serve splendidly as the focus of all outrage. At long last, the wretched creature would be of use.

Besides, Nikau thought there might be a small victory to gain here.

* * *

"Take his life," the Narvo elder stated, firmly, her own eyes green with fury. "Narvo casts him out."

Yaut grunted and began to position the dagger for the killing thrust.

"Not you!"

He looked up, puzzled. The old Narvo female was pointing toward Aille's service.

"Not you, fraghta. Since the insult was delivered upon a human, let a human in the kroudh's service take Oppuk's life. Narvo insists."

Yaut had to force himself to restrain his anger. The Narvo's ploy was obvious—and petty. She would try to gain what little satisfaction Narvo could from the situation by having a human bungle the business. Driving a blade through heavy Jao vertebra in a proper killing stroke would be difficult. A human would most likely hack away, dissolving the ritual of the moment into crude butchery.

Petty . . . and stupid.

Now, Yaut had to restrain himself from showing any humor. The Narvo elder might not be unsane, but she shared Oppuk's bigotry. There was at least one human in Aille's service, Yaut was sure, who would serve the purpose admirably.

Not Caitlin herself or Kinsey, of course. Neither of them was strong enough. Nor Kralik. He was a soldier, in the end, not a warrior. And, besides, his personal ties with Caitlin would probably make him too angry to do the deed properly.

The choice was obvious. And Yaut found himself wondering, for a moment, if in some strange way Aille had sensed it, that very first day on Terra. Green eyes which had been willing to challenge Jao, as if they were Jao themselves.

"Tully!" he called out.

Tully came forward, moving in that easy, slender-but-strong manner which Yaut now knew humans would call "pantherish."

"May I be of use, fraghta?" he asked. He even managed—would wonders never cease?—to assume a reasonable rendition of readiness-to-serve.

"Take this creature's life." Yaut flipped the dagger, now holding it by the blade and extending the hilt toward Tully.

"My pleasure," Tully growled, taking the dagger and another step to bring him over Oppuk.

"It must be done well," Yaut murmured. "One blow, quick and clean, killing him instantly." He placed a finger over the exposed joint where the blade needed to penetrate.

Oppuk shuddered slightly at the touch. The former Governor was strong enough that he might still be conscious. Yaut hoped he was. Let the beast know that a human was about to put him down.

Tully eyed the target, nodded. Then, to Yaut's surprise, shifted his grip on the dagger to bring the blade below his palm instead of above it.

Yaut felt an instant's concern. That was the overhand grip of a novice blade-fighter.

But his worries were moot. Tully knew what he was doing. In a motion more swift than any Jao could have managed, Tully reared his body high and then coiled down like a striking serpent, driving the blade hilt-deep into Oppuk's neck.

The massive body jerked, once, and Yaut let it fall. Oppuk was dead before he finished sprawling ungainly on the sand.

Yaut stared at the blade. Then, reached out his hand and gave the hilt a tentative little jiggle.

As he suspected. He would need both hands—and all the muscles in his back—to draw the blade out. Even then, he'd have to pry it back and forth before easing enough of the pressure of the neck bones. Yaut was not sure he could have driven it in as deeply himself.

He did so, not disguising the effort it took. And then, done, let his hard green gaze sweep over the assembled Naukra.

They seemed shaken, as well they might be—all except the veteran soldiers who, here and there, were among the selected representatives. Those simply looked satisfied.

As well they might. In Tully's murderous, lightning-quick deathstroke, the Naukra had finally gotten a glimpse of the frightening truth that had lurked on Terra for twenty of its orbital cycles. Which the veteran soldiers understood, and so few of their superiors ever had. Yaut knew that, to the Naukra representatives new to the planet, as once to him, humans looked silly at first glance. Almost like misshapen crechelings, with their ridiculously little ears and their too-widely-spaced eyes, and their flat faces.

They would seem so, no longer. They would think of Tully now, when they thought of humans. And understand better, hopefully, what they truly faced.

"It was well done, Tully," he said softly. "Very well. You are a credit to yourself and your service."

Tully grinned, thinly, somehow managing to combine that human expression with a grateful-to-be-of-service stance that was . . . 

Truly pitiful.

Yaut sighed. Tully's training, he now realized, would never be complete. But he also thought that was perhaps the secret to the creature, his way of being of use—which Aille had recognized, however dimly, from the very beginning.

* * *

Kralik was the first human at her side. He straightened Caitlin's neck with careful hands, probing the bruised flesh for damage, trying to tell if she was concussed or if vertebrae had been damaged by the blow—or if she just had a badly bruised cheek.

Her voice was a harsh rattle. "M'okay, Ed. So—important! Must make them listen!"

"No, it's all right." He cradled her in his arms, rocking her gently. "Oppuk can't hurt you anymore. It's all right, sweetheart. He's dead. The stinking bastard is fucking dead."

The short Preceptor dressed in the Bond's black harness and trousers came up and gazed down at her with cryptic black eyes. His manner was calm, as though nothing untoward had occurred here. "Do you still wish to speak?"

"Yes. I do. Help me up, Ed."

Caitlin rose to her feet, Kralik assisting. She was shaken and bruised and a trickle of red ran from the corner of her mouth. She dabbed at it with the back of one hand. Oppuk's blow had been stunningly powerful, even though only the heavy fingers had struck her.

"There is a third way, I think." Her voice was fainter than she wanted, so she did her best to speak more loudly. "One that I believe would create new association and honor all concerned. Human as well as Jao—and avoid insult to any kochan."

Silence fell over the assemblage as she straightened, desperately trying to push aside the dazed feeling. She was still too fuzzy-headed to be able to develop any elaborate logical preface, she realized. That would have been hard, in any event, since she was more-or-less thinking on her feet to begin with.

Best to just come to the point.

She closed her eyes, swayed, then forced them open again. "I ask you not to grant oudh status on this world to either Narvo or Pluthrak."

She turned first to Narvo, and managed a reasonable rendition of honorable-recognition. "Narvo because, through no fault of its own, that kochan has come to be indelibly associated among humans—at least for the moment—with Oppuk's unsane rule. They would simply be faced with suppressing endless rebellions on Terra, which would be of no use to anyone."

The elderly female who led the Narvo delegation stared back at her; for a Jao, wide-eyed. Then, almost but not quite managing to conceal her surprise, returned the posture with the same.

Caitlin's head was starting to clear, thankfully. She'd spoken those words from sheer instinct, but they'd been the right ones. Even though, judging by the angry tension in his stance, Ed thought she was letting the Narvo bastards off the hook.

Which she was, of course. That had to done, if anything else was to happen. Whether the Narvo deserved to be suspended on a meathook or not was a trivial issue. Narvo kochan was simply too powerful, too necessary to the Jao—and humans, for that matter—in the life-and-death struggle against the Ekhat to be openly humiliated. It was going to be difficult enough for Caitlin to persuade the Naukra to implement the proposal she was about to advance. Impossible, if Narvo was openly opposed.

Besides, Caitlin's words—the Narvo elder's almost immediate acceptance made this quite clear—had, ironically, now made Narvo something of a human . . . 

Not "ally," certainly. But, if nothing else, they'd be the last, in the future, to criticize Aille for taking humans into his service.

Caitlin had to choke down an hysterical little laugh. Since it was a human member of his service who salvaged their precious honor from near-disaster.

She turned, moving more easily, and bestowed the same posture of honorable-recognition upon Dau krinnu ava Pluthrak.

"Nor do I think Pluthrak should be given oudh here, though that would certainly meet the approval of most humans. In the short time since he had been here, Subcommandant Aille has done as much to repair the Jao reputation as Governor Oppuk did to damage it in twenty years."

There was a little stir in the Naukra, at that. Caitlin wasn't surprised. The Jao were not accustomed to caring, one way or the other, what might or might not be "popular" with their conquered species. Conquerors were conquerors, subjects were subjects, and there's an end to it.

But, although she'd been too dazed to see much of it, Caitlin had only to glance at Oppuk's corpse and his human executioner, still standing beside it, to know that even the most crusty-minded Jao in the assembly understood now that humans had to be dealt with . . . 

Gingerly.

Leaving Tully aside, by now I'm sure they've all heard the story of the Narvo veterans' defiance of their own elders. Probably heard the same from their own veterans, for that matter, if they've been listening at all since they got here.

"What is the problem, then?" asked the Preceptor. "Pluthrak would seem the obvious choice."

"Too obvious, that is the problem. As popular as the choice might be, for humans, too many Jao kochan would be suspicious that this crisis was created by Pluthrak in the first place in order to displace Narvo here."

There was another stir in the crowd, and not a little one. Caitlin had just stated, aloud, what many of them suspected to be the truth.

That was not surprising either, of course—since it was the truth. Close enough, anyway. Caitlin was sure of that much. She was also sure that Aille had been an innocent party to the affair—the "dupe," insofar as that word could possibly be applied to his very-effective self. And she was pretty sure, though not positive, that Pluthrak's ambitions had actually been more subtle. Not so much focused on gaining oudh over Terra, in itself, but forcing Narvo to make concessions elsewhere. That was the subtle and indirect way that Pluthrak operated, she'd come to understand.

But, from the viewpoint of the Naukra crowd, the distinction hardly mattered. It was just as essential, for Caitlin's purpose, to remove Pluthrak from becoming, in a different way than Narvo, another obstacle to proper association.

Fortunately, the Pluthrak elder representing his kochan at the Naukra was quick-thinking and as subtle as Pluthrak's reputation. Without even the moment's hesitation of Narvo, he was returning her posture of honorable-recognition.

"It is true, what she says." Dau krinnu ava Pluthrak's posture then shifted to something Caitlin didn't quite recognize, but tentatively categorized as the Jao equivalent of butter-wouldn't-melt-in-my-mouth. "Thought to be true, rather, since there is actually no truth in it. But suspicion is a reality in its own terms, and must be dealt with correctly. I agree that to give oudh over Terra to Pluthrak would create—or reinforce—existing tensions which are already unfortunate."

The collective posture of the crowd visibly eased. This was, suddenly and unexpectedly, going quite well. The worst immediate danger, a sharp and open clash between Narvo and Pluthrak, had now been averted. Caitlin could practically see them all rubbing their hands, like so many human horse-traders about to get down to serious dickering.

And that needs to be headed off at the pass, before it even gets started. Brace yourself, girl. Here comes the hardest part. Well . . . the second-to-hardest.

As if on cue, the Preceptor spoke again. As always, his stance impossible to read.

"You wish to suggest another kochan altogether then? Perhaps Jak or Hij or Dano?"

"No, not another kochan. I think the Naukra should grant status to Terra as a taif. Two taifs, rather, one human and one Jao—and both affiliated directly to the Bond of Ebezon."

Finish it. The hardest part. Sorry, boss, but sometimes the road forward requires a stab in the back.

She forced herself to turn and gaze directly at Aille, standing not far away. "And I think you should not remove Aille's status as kroudh. His affiliation with Pluthrak must be severed forever. Not to punish him, but to free him. So that he can be adopted, if he and they so choose, by the new Jao taif to be formed on Terra. That alone would give the new taifs the stature they need, among Jao and humans both, while dishonoring no one."

 

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