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"Which you're probably going to say is why the Overclan warriors didn't spot them," Thrr-gilag sighed. "They're sure not making this easy to prove, are they?"
"I'm sure that's their goal," Thrr't-rokik agreed. "Whoever 'they' are, and whatever 'they' were doing. But you miss my point. As I said, the floater engines were warm. Warm enough to give off a fair amount of darklight." He smiled grimly. "Enough darklight, as it happens, for me to read the manufactural identification numbers."
Thrr-gilag felt his midlight pupils narrow. "You got the numbers?" he breathed. "Well, then—well, then, we're in. We've got them. We've got them by their tongues."
"Easy, son, easy," Thrr't-rokik said, holding up a hand. "It's not going to be that easy. We can't just a
"So what do we do?" Thrr-gilag demanded. "Keep quiet and let them get away with it?"
"Of course not," Thrr't-rokik said. "All I'm saying is that the obvious, public way isn't going to work here. For right now Thrr-pifix-a is all right: she's shamed, but for whatever reasons, whoever's behind all this doesn't seem to want it made public. That means we have time. So what I'll do is—"
He broke off. Across the house there was a quiet knock at the door.
For a beat Thrr-gilag just looked at Thrr't-rokik, wondering if he'd imagined the sound. The knock came again; and Thrr't-rokik flickered and was gone.
He was back two beats later. "I don't know," he hissed to Thrr-gilag. "One Zhirrzh, male, middle-aged. He looks very familiar, somehow, but I can't place him."
There was a third knock, a more insistent one this time. "Keep watch," Thrr-gilag told his father, crossing the kitchen to the door. Bracing himself, trying to prepare himself mentally for anything, he pulled it open.
"Hello, Searcher," the Overclan Prime said. "I'm glad you were able to find your way out here. May I come in?"
Thrr-gilag swallowed. This was not anywhere on his impromptu mental list of possibilities. "Certainly, Overclan Prime," he said, moving back out of the way.
"Thank you." The Prime stepped inside; and as he passed, Thrr-gilag noticed the irritating pulsating tone that followed along with him. A hummer, already activated. Whatever was about to happen, the Prime was obviously determined that it be confidential.
But even if Thrr't-rokik couldn't hear, he would certainly be watching. It was a comforting thought.
"I'm sorry I had to twist you around the way I did in order to get you here," the Prime said, turning back around to face Thrr-gilag as the latter closed the door. "But I needed to talk to you in private."
"Is it about my mother?" Thrr-gilag asked.
"It concerns the war," the Prime said. "And your theory that there may be a biochemical basis for Human-Conqueror aggression."
Thrr-gilag suppressed a grimace. All the way out here; and for this? "That theory is hardly a deep secret, Overclan Prime," he pointed out impatiently. "I've already filed a note about it. We could have discussed this back at the Overclan complex."
"Perhaps," the Prime said calmly. "But we could hardly have discussed the unauthorized cutting you and Kl
Thrr-gilag stared at him, his mind freezing in shock. So they knew. They'd known all along. Kl
The Prime smiled faintly. "Relax, Searcher, it's not as bad as you're obviously thinking. Though you may change your mind about that in a hunbeat or two. For right now, at least, no one outside your little conspiracy knows anything about this."
With an effort Thrr-gilag forced his mind to start working again. The Prime could be lying, of course. But Thrr-gilag couldn't see what that would gain him. Either way, at this point he had little choice but to play this out and see where it led. "May I ask how you found out?" he asked.
"Through one of the Elders in Prr't-casst-a's supposedly secure pathway, of course," the Prime said. "As it happens, I already had an order in place that all of your communications were to be routed through an Overclan Elder. Prr't-casst-a's selection of Elders made it difficult, but not impossible. But that's not really the point. The point is that you probably want to go to Dorcas with Searcher Kl
Thrr-gilag frowned. Was he serious? "I don't understand."
"It's very simple," the Prime said. "The Dorcas beachhead has just taken three prisoners. Or possibly ambassadors; we're not really sure. One of them is a Human-Conqueror warrior." He gazed hard at Thrr-gilag. "The other two are Mrachanis."
Thrr-gilag felt his midlight pupils narrow. Mrachanis. "I should tell you, Overclan Prime, that I don't really trust the Mrachanis."
"Yes, I know," the Prime said. "Which is precisely why I want you to be the one to go talk to them. Especially since there's a Human-Conqueror prisoner there for you to do your biochemical tests on."
"I see," Thrr-gilag said, eying the Prime closely. "Do I take it that all of this is... somewhat unauthorized?"
The Prime locked gazes with him. "I'm authorizing it, Searcher. That's all the authorization you need."
"Yes, I understand that. What I meant—"
"I know what you meant," the Prime cut him off. "And I have neither the time nor the inclination to detail for you the full range of political realities involved. Your qualifications are simple: you're good at what you do, and you're not overly intimidated by authority or tradition when you see something that has to be done. The question is equally simple: will you go, or won't you?"
"Of course I'll go," Thrr-gilag said. "When?"
"Immediately," the Prime said, a flicker of something that might have been relief touching his face. "There's a spacecraft waiting for you at the private field the transport dropped you off at. You can leave the runabout there to be picked up later."
"All right," Thrr-gilag said. "I don't have any luggage or equipment, though."
"There are changes of clothing for you already aboard the spacecraft," the Prime said. "You'll be making a stop at Base World Nine along the way; chances are most of the equipment you'll need can be picked up there. Have the spacecraft commander send me a list of whatever you want, and it'll be assigned to you. Anything Base World Nine doesn't have on hand will be sent to Dorcas from here. Acceptable?"
"Very much so," Thrr-gilag said, nodding. "Thank you."
"You'd best be on your way, then," the Prime said. "One other thing before you go. Commander Thrr-mezaz has reported the fact that the Human-Conquerors on Dorcas have made possibly two separate attempts to enter the region north of the Zhirrzh beachhead."
"Yes," Thrr-gilag said, shivering. "He told me."
"The commander was of course at a loss to explain their motivations." The Prime's expression hardened. "You and I, however, don't have to wonder."
"No," Thrr-gilag murmured. No, they didn't have to wonder at all. "CIRCE."
"Yes," the Prime agreed soberly. "And if one of its components is in fact hidden out there, there's no chance the Human-Conquerors will let it just sit there. If it becomes necessary, you're authorized to tell your brother everything you know about the device. And to do whatever it takes to make sure the Human-Conquerors don't retrieve it. Understood?"
Thrr-gilag nodded. "Understood."
"Good," the Prime said. "Then you'd better get going. Not a word or hint of any of this, of course. To anyone."