"I appreciate that, Supreme Commander," Thrr-mezaz said. "And I thank you for the offer. But being in danger is part of our job, after all." He flicked his tongue. "Besides, I'm curious to see what the Human-Conqueror reaction will be to a Mrachani spacecraft landing inside our encampment."
"It should be interesting," Dkll-kumvit agreed heavily. "Very well, then." He gestured to the Elder. "Inform Warrior Command that the Mrachani spacecraft will be landing in the Zhirrzh beachhead on Dorcas."
"I obey," the Elder said, and vanished.
"Well, that's it, then," Dkll-kumvit said, getting up from his couch. "Better get back to your encampment, Commander, and prepare to receive visitors. Your transport's standing ready for you."
"I obey," Thrr-mezaz said, standing up with him. "Is there anything else about all this I should know?"
"Nothing that's not obvious," Dkll-kumvit said. "A communicator relay pathway will be set up before the Mrachanis arrive at the encampment, with continuous contact between Dorcas and Warrior Command to be maintained during all interactions with them. You may ask general questions concerning their purpose here, but I'll be the only one authorized to perform a complete and formal interrogation. Unless the Overclan decides to send an official alien-studies team—that part's still being worked out. And, of course, the same policy concerning the Elders is to be observed with these aliens as it was for your brother's Human-Conqueror prisoner: they're not to be given any reason to suspect the Elders' existence or presence."
"I understand," Thrr-mezaz said.
"Good," Dkll-kumvit said. "Then good luck, Commander. And be careful."
It was another tentharc before the alien spacecraft came swooping in from the west, its engines making a strange twittering drone sound as it came into earshot. Ahead of it flew one of the Requisites transports; on either side were a pair of Thrr-mezaz's Stingbirds. All of the beachhead's aircraft were in the sky, watching tensely for the move Thrr-mezaz half expected the Human-Conqueror commander to make.
And at one point an enemy aircraft did indeed appear, drifting almost casually to a point near the edge of the extended air perimeter the Stingbirds' positions had defined. But the aircraft flew back without threat or challenge, disappearing again into the Human-Conqueror stronghold. The Copperhead warriors, thankfully, did not appear at all.
Thrr-mezaz was waiting as the Mrachani spacecraft came down, a translator-link firmly planted in his ear slits, a similarly linked optronic speaker on his shoulder. This spacecraft was much larger than the one the Cakk'rr had tangled with near Cataloged World 592, he saw, and as it rolled toward him, he wondered uneasily what sort of weaponry it carried. If its true mission was to get into the Zhirrzh encampment and try to obliterate it...
But the spacecraft rolled to a stop without incident in the center of the circle of light formed by the spotlights the technics had rigged. A hatchway and ramp appeared in one side; and as Thrr-mezaz stepped to the foot of the ramp, two aliens appeared at the top and started down.
The reports regarding the first Mrachani spacecraft had arrived at the Dorcas encampment the previous fullarc, so Thrr-mezaz had some idea what to expect. Even so, the Mrachanis were something of a shock. Roughly Zhirrzh-sized, they were slender creatures, with heads and necks coated in short fur like some kind of small animal. Their faces were flat, much closer in appearance to Human-Conqueror design and arrangement than to Zhirrzh faces. They looked harmless, even friendly.
Except that one of their kind had already opened fire on a Zhirrzh ship. It wouldn't hurt to keep that thought in mind.
The Mrachanis reached the foot of the ramp and started speaking. Thrr-mezaz waited, catching an occasional word here and there from his brief and hurried studies of the Human-Conqueror language, until the translation began to come through his translator-link. "We bring greetings to the Zhirrzh people. I am Lahettilas, representative of the Mrach people. We are not your enemies. We are your friends. We wish to discuss the possibility of working together against our common enemy, the Mirnacheem-hyeea."
"I see," Thrr-mezaz said. That Mirnacheem-hyeea thing had been in the Overclan Seating report. Conquerors Without Reason, the other Mrachani had translated it: the Human-Conquerors. "I am Thrr-mezaz; Kee'rr," he told them, gesturing to the waiting warriors. Three of them stepped forward and handed kavra fruit to Thrr-mezaz and the two Mrachanis. Thrr-mezaz sliced his and waited.
The aliens' response was interesting, and far different from the one Thrr-gilag had observed back on Base World 12 from the Human-Conqueror prisoner. Whereas Pheylan Cavanagh had simply shown that his tongue wasn't like those of the Zhirrzh and had offered the kavra back, the two Mrachanis seemed bound and determined to duplicate Thrr-mezaz's action. Their tongues were as unequal to the task as the Human-Conqueror's had been, but they had a go at it anyway. Using the clawlike extensions of his fingers, Lahettilas struggled to dig a short and rather shallow groove in the kavra's skin, while the other alien did likewise with his teeth. Thrr-mezaz watched their efforts with mild interest, trying to decide whether he preferred their attempts to act like Zhirrzh or Pheylan Cavanagh's more honest and straightforward acceptance of his limitations.
It took another hunbeat, but eventually the Mrachanis seemed to decide that they had satisfied whatever honor was inherent in this ritual. Thrr-mezaz handed his kavra back to the warrior, and the aliens did likewise. "Now," Thrr-mezaz said, lowering his hands to drip the remainder of their accumulated juice onto Dorcas's soil, "let us speak. You offer the Zhirrzh your assistance. Tell me why you believe we need such assistance."
His shoulder speaker gave the translation. Thrr-mezaz watched the aliens closely, noticing the sudden stiffening of their fur. A reaction to his question? Lahettilas spoke again—"Surely the Zhirrzh cannot stand alone against the Humans," the translation came. "Surely not against the weapon CIRCE."
Thrr-mezaz frowned. CIRCE? There hadn't been any reference to a weapon called CIRCE in any of the reports he'd read. "The Zhirrzh have mighty weapons, too," he said, wondering if he should ask about this CIRCE thing or pretend he knew all about it. "Perhaps instead we should—"
"Commander Thrr-mezaz!" a thin voice snapped. Thrr-mezaz looked up, to see an Elder hovering directly over the two aliens. "You are to halt this line of questioning immediately."
It was obvious from the way the Mrachanis glanced around that they'd heard the words. Fortunately, by the time they got around to looking up, the Elder was gone. "But this is no place for such discussions," Thrr-mezaz improvised, gesturing again to the warriors and thankful for once that Elder voices couldn't be picked up by optronic microphones. "Your living area is across the landing field. Come with us."
The warriors fell in beside them, and together they all headed across the open space, the spotlights following their path the whole way. Klnn-vavgi and more warriors were waiting for them there, lined up beside the door to the storehouse that they'd hurriedly converted into living quarters for their visitors. "Here is where—" Thrr-mezaz broke off, glancing over his shoulder as the darklight beam connecting him with the interpreter belatedly caught up with him. "Here is where you will stay," he began again. "Two warriors will be on duty outside this door if you need anything. If you will tell me what you need from your spacecraft, I will have it brought to you."
"Thank you," the translator said in Thrr-mezaz's ear slits a few beats later. "Everything we need is in the five cases waiting inside our spacecraft at the top of the ramp. We do not need them quickly."