He stopped talking, and for a few beats there was nothing but the sound and feel of his breath on Prr't-zevisti's fsss cutting. "Well, keep at it," he said at last, his breath and voice turning away. "At the (something), it's about all we have to go on."
"I know," Doctor-Cavan-a agreed. "I'll get back to work right away."
"I (something) you wait a few (something) first," the commander said, his voice accompanied by the sound of the metal door opening. "If the Zhirrzh out there decide to (something), we may have other (something) work for you."
He left, closing the door behind him. Carefully, choosing a different corner this time, Prr't-zevisti eased back to the edge of the lightworld.
Doctor-Cavan-a was standing beside the shelves, gazing down at the fsss cutting in its box. "What are you for?" she asked softly. "Why do the Zhirrzh take you out of their (something)?"
For a pair of beats Prr't-zevisti was almost tempted to answer her. They had him trapped, and at this point they surely knew that. There really wasn't a lot to be gained by skulking around pretending he wasn't there.
But he stayed quiet. His long-past warrior training, perhaps, and those dire warnings about the dangers of voluntary communication and cooperation with the enemy. Or maybe it was just the irrational hope that they didn't really know he was trapped there.
Because once they knew they had him trapped, there would be no reason for them not to start a serious interrogation. Accompanied by their Elderdeath weapons.
Doctor-Cavan-a picked up the box and moved it to the worktable. Prr't-zevisti watched her, wincing with the always unpleasant anticipation of the unknown. He'd never felt a real Elderdeath weapon, but the histories were very clear about the catastrophic effects their use had had on Zhirrzh culture. The first—and last—Elderdeath weapons had been created by the Svrr family of the Flii'rr clan at the height of the Second Eldership War eight hundred cyclics ago. All sides of the war had called on the Svrr to halt their use of the weapons, which had only a minor dizzying effect on warriors but which could be lethal to Elders and children. But the Svrr had refused. Ultimately, when the war was over, that refusal had cost the family its existence.
The Zhirrzh had never used the weapons again. But every alien race they came upon had done so: deliberately, viciously, and without a twinge of conscience. Every race, from the Chig to the Isintorxi and now to the Humans.
A twinge make him jerk. Doctor-Cavan-a, taking yet another sample from his fsss cutting. But that would end soon enough. Eventually, he knew, she would get tired of these preliminaries.
And then the real interrogation would begin. Prr't-zevisti could only hope he would find death before he betrayed his people.
They'd all made it down to the ten-stride height Thrr-mezaz had specified without the Human-Conquerors making any move. And it was time for the Zhirrzh to make theirs.
"All right," Thrr-mezaz said, glancing down at the tree- and rock-littered terrain below them. "Here we go. Vstii-suuv, you'll go first, pulling Qlaa-nuur and me down along behind you. If the Human-Conquerors think the fall was accidental, it might gain us a few extra beats. Take it whenever you're ready, and try not to hit us too hard on your way down."
"Right," Vstii-suuv said. "Here goes."
There was a sudden flurry above him, a brief shower of broken stone; and then Vstii-suuv shot past, one foot caroming off Thrr-mezaz's left shoulder along the way. The rope snapped tight at Thrr-mezaz's harness, yanking him away from the cliff face. He managed to miss Qlaa-nuur as he fell—bounced painfully against the cliff with the same sore shoulder—twisted half over as he clawed at the rock to try to get himself vertical—
And then one foot hit the ground, and he was fighting a losing battle for balance. He dropped to one knee, falling over on his side and rolling awkwardly back again to his knees. "Report," he snapped, fumbling for the rope and release rings with one hand as he unslung his laser rifle with the other.
"I'm all right, Commander," Vstii-suuv said, breathing heavily. "Just a little winded."
"Same here," Qlaa-nuur said. "Those friction grabs work better than I thought."
"Good," Thrr-mezaz said, getting up into a crouch and looking around. Still no ground warriors in sight, though in a wooded area like this that didn't mean much. Now, if the Zhirrzh could just get in the first shot against the Human-Conqueror aircraft before it swooped around the trees for a clear shot and shredded all three of them. He looked up into the sky—
To find that the aircraft hadn't moved.
Thrr-mezaz frowned up at it. It was still right there, bits of it visible through the trees. Still hovering in the same spot. Not making any attempt at all to attack.
"Commander?" Vstii-suuv hissed urgently. "Shall we take it down?"
Thrr-mezaz looked around them again. No ground warriors; no further air support that he could see; the one aircraft on the scene inexplicably not moving to attack position. It was as if—
As if the Human-Conqueror commander was letting them go.
He took a deep breath. "Hold your fire," he told the two warriors. "Keep your weapons ready, but I don't think we're going to need them. They're letting us go."
"Letting us go?" Qlaa-nuur echoed, looking around. "I don't believe it."
"No, they just haven't reacted yet," Vstii-suuv agreed tightly. "This is our one chance, Commander. I strongly recommend we take it."
Thrr-mezaz looked back up at the aircraft, an eerie feeling pricking at the base of his tongue. The Human-Conqueror commander was letting them go. Just as he himself had allowed that Human-Conqueror ground-warrior team to escape four fullarcs ago north of the village.
"Hold your fire," he told the others. "That's an order." He took one last look around and started down the steep slope. "Come on, let's get back to the transport."
They didn't believe him, of course. Neither of them did. Not until they were airborne again with no sign of pursuit.
Vstii-suuv was the first to put it into words. "I don't believe it," he said, staring out the back of the transport at the Human-Conqueror aircraft, still on guard, fading into the distance behind them. "They let us go. Why in the eighteen worlds would they do a thing like that?"
"Maybe as a payback for our not slaughtering their ground warriors when we had the chance," Thrr-mezaz suggested.
"With all due respect, Commander, that's highly dangerous thinking," Qlaa-nuur growled. "These aren't civilized beings we're talking about here. They're vicious barbarian killers. Ascribing Zhirrzh-like characteristics to them will do nothing but tempt us into blocked-street thinking."
"Perhaps," Thrr-mezaz said. "Perhaps not. They have a highly advanced technology; they must have a certain degree of civilization to go along with it. And if appreciation toward an enemy is beyond them, then perhaps their commander let us go for the same reason I let his warriors go: because he wants to find out what we were doing out there. Maybe that will also induce him to let us get back inside his territory. Assuming, of course, that we're able to get a new cutting from Warrior Command."
"Or from the Dhaa'rr," Vstii-suuv murmured, his voice thoughtful.
Thrr-mezaz looked at him, frowning in mild surprise. Vstii-suuv had been decidedly hostile about the whole Prr't-zevisti cutting idea back on the climb. Yet he'd now brought the subject up on his own. And not as a prelude to an argument, either, from the tone.
And then he understood. "You saw it," he said. "Didn't you?"
"I think so," Vstii-suuv admitted. "You did, too?"
"About the same as you," Thrr-mezaz nodded. "I saw something. I'm not sure what."
"What are you talking about?" Qlaa-nuur asked. "What did you see?"