Conquerors' Legacy

"For one thing, cousin, they're our enemies," Kl

"Let's assume he's not," Thrr-mezaz said, flicking his tongue thoughtfully. "So the explosions came from the inside. That means the Mrachanis had to have set them off themselves."

"How?" Kl

"Those are the questions, all right," Thrr-mezaz nodded. "Though come to think of it, I seem to remember one of the Elders telling me they'd hung some decorative cloths on the walls around the room."

"You think they could have concealed the explosives?" Kl

"It's an obvious possibility," Thrr-mezaz said. "Thrr-gilag, ask him if he can tell us anything else about the explosions. The strength of the blasts; the type of explosive used, maybe, if he knows about different types."

There was a brief exchange of words, the Human-Conqueror pointing across the storehouse toward another of the blast holes. "Not from this one," the translation came. "May I look over there?"

"Go ahead," Thrr-mezaz said, gesturing permission to the prisoner's escort. "Warriors, watch him."

Thrr-gilag translated, and the alien set off across the storehouse, Thrr-gilag, Kl

"Why only in this one storehouse?" Thrr-mezaz asked.

"Maybe they weren't only here," Kl

"If so, why haven't they used them?"

"Because they know that raising the whole beachhead to Eldership won't gain them anything," Kl

And those encirclement forces were about to be withdrawn. Thrr-mezaz glanced upward, an eerie feeling flowing over his tongue. To be sitting here in the middle of a Human-Conqueror ensnarement trap... "No," he said slowly. "If they'd deliberately set up a trap in the storehouse, they surely would have done a better job of it. As it was, all they did was blow off the doors and make a couple of holes in the walls."

"And raised two warriors to Eldership," Kl

"Because they happened to be standing in front of the doors," Thrr-mezaz countered. "Almost collateral damage from the Human-Conquerors' point of view—certainly so if the Mrachanis were their intended target. No, Second, a deliberate ensnarement trap ought to have brought the whole storehouse down."

"Maybe," Kl

The Human-Conqueror prisoner was at the other blast hole now, looking closely at the blackened edge. "There's one possibility," Thrr-mezaz said. "Ever since they got here, the Mrachanis have been either pleading or demanding to be taken to Oaccanv. What better way to make us hurry the decision than to create a sudden and immediate threat to their lives?"

"Interesting suggestion," Kl

"If it's true," Thrr-mezaz said. "Question is, how would we go about testing it?"

"I don't know," Kl

"Unless what?"

Kl

"Might be worth trying," Thrr-mezaz murmured. "Of course, you know what the chances are that he'd admit to having explosives aboard."

"Zero?"

"About that," Thrr-mezaz agreed.

The Human-Conqueror was speaking again as they arrived at the knot of Zhirrzh surrounding him. "It's been too long," Thrr-gilag translated. "Rain and wind have erased the odors he could have used to identify the explosive." He looked at Thrr-mezaz. "Now what?"

"We return him to detention, I suppose," Thrr-mezaz said. "Go ahead and take him back," he added to the warriors.

Thrr-gilag translated the instructions to the prisoner, who nodded and headed off obediently with his escort. Kl

"You and Kl

"I think he's telling the truth," Kl

"He may be trying to create distrust toward the Mrachanis," Kl

"If so, it was dangerously subtle," Thrr-gilag pointed out. "We came close to missing it entirely."

"Besides, that just circles us back to the question of how the Human-Conquerors carried out the attack," Kl

"Maybe," Thrr-mezaz said, stepping forward and gazing at the splintered edge of the hole. Could the Mrachanis really have faked this attack to try to force the Zhirrzh to take them to Oaccanv?

And if so, what had their motive been? To establish communications and an alliance with the Overclan Prime, as they claimed?

Or to guide Human-Conqueror warships directly to the Zhirrzh homeworld?

12

"We'll want to wait until all the incoming passengers have gotten off and the cargo's been unloaded," Kolchin said quietly. "Keep an eye out for anything that strikes you as odd."

Cavanagh nodded. "Right."

Twin gangways came down onto the dock with twin thumps, and a handful of figures emerged from the shadows on the deck and started on down, carrybags or backpacks slung over their shoulders. Most were human, but there was a sprinkling of other races as well. All had the weathered but freshly scrubbed look of sap miners returning from a brief visit to the conveniences of civilization, in marked contrast to the generally grimy condition of those waiting on the dock with Cavanagh and Kolchin for their turn to go aboard. From the aft section of the ferry a collapsible crane unlimbered itself and began lifting cargo crates from the fantail onto the end of the dock.

For no particular reason Cavanagh found himself counting the passengers as they lumbered down the gangways. There were twenty-seven of them, roughly the same number as were waiting to go aboard. A fairly standard-size group for a midweek evening run back to Puerto Simone Island, or so Kolchin's discreet questioning had determined. Cavanagh would have preferred a larger crowd for them to hide in, but apparently even on weekends the traffic didn't swell all that much. It took a festival or other special occasion to attract any truly large groups of miners to the island.

An elbow touched his side, and he turned to see Kolchin gazing off to their right. "We've got company," the bodyguard murmured.

Cavanagh followed his gaze. Passing beneath one of the dull overhead walklights, ambling directly toward them, was a broad-shouldered Avuire. "Is that...?"