Conquerors' Heritage

But they wouldn't have long. These were the Humans. The Conquerors. They would soon be back.

And unless the beachheads had succeeded in locking a critical component away from them, the next time they came, they might have CIRCE with them.

The Prime cursed softly under his breath as he gazed up at the star chart. They were spread too thin. That was the real summation line here: they were spread too cursedly thin. Worse, they were concentrated in the same general part of the Human-Conqueror empire, the sections denoted as Lyra and Pegasus Sectors. The enemy knew where to find them and could bring all their forces to bear with a minimum of logistical trouble.

What the Zhirrzh needed was something to shake up the enemy, something to diffuse their focus. A bold strike into some other area of their empire, perhaps. Maybe even one of their more populous central worlds: Celadon, Prospect, Avon, or even Earth itself. It would be a risk, but a reasonably minimal one as long as they kept the strike brief. With warships impossible to track through the tu

"Overclan Prime?" a faint Elder voice came in the silence.

The Prime looked up, stiffening to a respectful posture. Not just an Elder, but one of the twenty-eight Overclan Primes who had gone before him. "Yes, Eighteenth?" he said.

"Your private chambers, if you please," the Eighteenth said shortly. "There are matters we need to discuss."

"Certainly," the Prime said, a twinge of concern flicking through him as he stood up from his couch. The Eighteenth was about as imperturbable a personality as former Primes ever got. For him to be troubled meant something decidedly unpleasant was in the works.

To the average Zhirrzh the Overclan complex was generally seen as a triumph of cooperation, a monument to ope

Only the two Overclan pyramids located in the Seating chamber itself had access to the entire complex. And it was regarding those that the cleverest stratagem of all had been created. On the vast open area between the chamber building and the two office buildings was a memorial display of some of the most powerful and deadly war machines the Zhirrzh had created throughout their long and violent history. A highly impressive display, too, with long-range ca

That was what the visitors to the memorial saw. What they didn't see was that two of the siege machines were made entirely of metal. Metal that cast shadowlike spaces which the Elders from the main Overclan family shrine could not enter.

The secure conference room in the Speakers' office building lay nestled in one of those shadows. The Overclan Prime's private chambers lay in the other.

The existence of those carefully positioned shadows was a closely guarded secret, known only to the Prime and certain of the Overclan Speakers. And only the Prime knew that the two inaccessible areas were not, in fact, entirely inaccessible.

The former Primes were waiting when he arrived in his chambers—all twenty-eight of them, in fact, by a quick count as the Prime sealed the door behind him. Another sign that this matter was something serious. "I greet the former Overclan Primes," he said, stepping over to his couch and sitting down. "To what do I owe the honor of this assembly?"

"To a looming crisis," the Twelfth growled. "A crisis which, if not dealt with quickly and decisively, could conceivably rip apart the very fabric of Zhirrzh society."

"Really," the Prime said, eying the set expression on the other's transparent face. The Twelfth, he knew, was inclined to be overly dramatic, as well as seeing crises and disasters beneath every stone. Still, this seemed beyond even his usual pessimism. "Is there general consensus on this?"

"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 the Diligent 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 Kl

"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."