Conquerors' Heritage

Thrr-mezaz looked at the holes in the storehouse walls. "Give him permission," he told the Elder. "Then tell him to collect some warriors and meet me at the Optronics supply room."

The Human-Conqueror was standing against the back wall of his temporary cell when the Zhirrzh warriors arrived. Still alert, still fully dressed. Almost as if he'd been expecting them. "Tell me where it is," Thrr-mezaz said without preamble. "Now."

The Human-Conqueror's face changed as the translation came through, the ridges of short hairs over his eyes pressing closer together. "Where what is?" his reply came in Thrr-mezaz's ear slits.

Thrr-mezaz flicked his tongue in contempt. With the deceit unmasked he could have hoped the Human-Conqueror would at least be reasonable about it. "The Elderdeath weapon," he bit out. "The one you or your warriors just used against us. Is it aboard your aircraft, or are there other warriors nearby?"

The prisoner's face remained the same. "I heard the shouts, but whatever happened wasn't our doing. And I don't know anything about this—what did you call it? The Elderdeath weapon?"

"Don't act stupid," Kl

"And we know you know," Thrr-mezaz added. "Furthermore, we're prepared to do whatever is necessary to—"

And suddenly there it was again: an abrupt flicker of disorientation tingling through his head, sharper this time, with an edge of pain to it. He darted a hand to the door frame for support against the flash of dizziness, dimly aware of the Human-Conqueror still standing against his wall. Beside him Kl

"Hold!" Thrr-mezaz snapped. "Don't fire."

The rifle muzzles paused uncertainly. "Commander?" Kl

"I said don't fire." The last of the dizziness faded away, and Thrr-mezaz straightened to face the prisoner again.

The Human-Conqueror was still standing there, making no move to take any advantage of his enemies' sudden weakness. Observing their reaction, perhaps? "By all rights I should kill you for that," Thrr-mezaz told him. "I should have let them shoot you down right there. I trust you realize that."

"Whatever happened to you wasn't my fault," the prisoner said, his voice quiet. Almost earnest. Almost believable.

Almost. "Fine," Thrr-mezaz said. "If that's the way you want to play it." He turned to Kl

He turned back at the Human-Conqueror. "You can cooperate or not. It's your choice."

For a long beat the alien gazed back at him. Then his face seemed to twitch. "All right," he said. "But there's no need for healers."

He reached both hands up to his face, to the side where the Elders had discovered the hidden device. The laser rifles lifted again in warning as, slowly and carefully, he began to peel away a section of his skin.

Kl

The edge of the device was visible now: small and flat, very much the same color as the Human-Conqueror's skin but easily distinguishable by the differences in its darklight radiance. He finished with the flap of skin and dropped it onto the bed in front of him; then, just as carefully, he peeled the device itself from its place.

"Drop it on the bed," Thrr-mezaz ordered him. "And then stand away from it."

The prisoner did as instructed. Thrr-mezaz gestured, and one of the warriors gingerly retrieved both the device and the skin flap and handed them over.

"Ycch," Kl

"It's not skin," Thrr-mezaz said.

"What?"

"It's not skin," Thrr-mezaz repeated, turning it over. "At least not his own skin. See? No blood anywhere."

"Well, I'll be cursed," Kl

"I'm sure that was the intent." Thrr-mezaz looked up at the prisoner. "This must have been pretty important for your technics to have gone to so much work to hide it," he commented, hefting the skin-colored device in his other hand. "What is it?"

The Human-Conqueror shook his head back and forth to the side. "It's not a weapon."

"What is it?"

The other remained silent. "Fine," Thrr-mezaz said. "We'll figure it out for ourselves."

He gestured, and together the warriors left the room, locking it securely behind them. "Guard posts as previously," he ordered the warriors when they were out in the cool latearc air again. "Well, Second. Comments?"

"Ten to one it's our Elderdeath weapon," Kl

"Yes," Thrr-mezaz murmured, gazing down at the device in his hand. "Perhaps."

"You don't sound convinced."

Thrr-mezaz shrugged. "Oh, you're probably right. It's just that the whole exercise seems to have been pretty futile. Yes, they got us stirred up a little, but that's about it. There was no attack on us, no further attack on the Mrachanis, not even an attempt by the prisoner to break out. So what did it gain them?"

"Information, maybe," Kl

"They knew that after the first battle," Thrr-mezaz countered. "No, there's something here we're not getting. I just wish we had some idea what it was."

For a beat they stood there in silence. Then, with a sigh, Thrr-mezaz dropped the device and fake skin flap into Kl

"Right," Kl

"Oh, yes," Thrr-mezaz confirmed grimly. "I want them to get in there and tear it apart. Down to individual molecules, if that's what it takes."

"And the prisoner?"

21

"Yes," Thrr-gilag said, holding up his pass for inspection. "I was told to come here—"

"I know," the Elder cut him off. "The Overclan Prime awaits you in his private chambers. Follow me."

Without waiting for a reply he set off down the corridor. Thrr-gilag followed, his tail spi

Big trouble. And all of it focused on him.

And to Thrr-gilag it was obvious what had happened. Somehow they'd found out about that little stunt he and Kl

It was over. And yet, even as Thrr-gilag's emotions swung violently between panic and resignation at the looming disaster, a small part of his mind refused to let go of the nagging sense that something here wasn't right. Why would the Overclan Prime get personally involved with such a sordid matter? For that matter, why had they trusted him to obey the summons to Oaccanv? Shouldn't they at least have brought him back here under warrior guard?

The fears and doubts and apprehensions were still chasing through his mind when he and the Elder arrived at their destination. It was a different room from the private offices he'd been brought to—could it really have been only eight fullarcs ago?—just after the ignominious return of the alien study group from Base World 12. "Enter," the Elder said, and vanished. Trying vainly to slow his tail's dizzying spin, Thrr-gilag gripped the wooden ring and pulled the door open.