"A Chigin whelp," Klnn-dawan-a said, pointing ahead toward the creek. "Over there."
"I see it," Thrr-gilag nodded. The whelp was standing stock-still beside a pile of boulders this side of the creek, its ears standing stiffly up, its full attention on the approaching floater. "You think it's lost?"
"Well, it certainly shouldn't be out here all by itself," Klnn-dawan-a said. "It could be the lead or tail of a grazing party, though. Let's take a closer look, see what family it belongs to."
"How do you tell them apart?" Thrr-gilag asked.
"Mountain families glitter-tag their whelps," Klnn-dawan-a explained. "Those little flashes of light at the edges of their ears—there; see it."
"Yes," Thrr-gilag nodded. "Do you know all the patterns?"
"Most of them," Klnn-dawan-a said. "We're going to have to get pretty close, though. You game?"
"I don't know," Thrr-gilag said dubiously. "I was under the impression that solitary Chig whelps weren't all that safe to approach."
"So the book says," Klnn-dawan-a agreed. "Our own studies indicate that that applies mainly to solitary whelps on their own family's territory. Solitary whelps on neutral territory seem to be actually less unpredictable than larger groups."
"The exact opposite, in other words, of how the book says they're supposed to behave."
"On home territory, anyway. You got it."
"Great," Thrr-gilag said. "Just how good are these studies of yours?"
"Oh, the studies are all wonderful, of course," Klnn-dawan-a said, slowing the floater down to a drifting crawl. The whelp was still standing there, still staring at them. "It's only the conclusions you ever have to worry about. No, seriously, I'm sure we'll be okay. Still, you'd better get the stinger out of the survival pack under the seat. Set on low, please; we don't want to really hurt it."
"If you say so," Thrr-gilag said, pulling the pack out and digging the stinger out of its pouch. He turned it on, grimacing at the vibration of filling energy capacitors. He'd never liked these things, not since his first time on the target range with one. They were awkward to hold, impossible to aim, and utterly absurd looking for something that was supposed to be a weapon. Thrr-mezaz, who dealt with real warrior laser weapons all the time, had laughed himself silly the first time he'd seen one. "So what's the plan?"
"I'll bring us as close to the whelp as I can without spooking it," Klnn-dawan-a said. "Then I'll go the rest of the way on foot, and you can cover me while I try to get a look at the glitter tag. Sound good?"
"Sounds terrible," Thrr-gilag retorted. "What if you're wrong about the whelp being dangerous?"
"Well, one of us has to get close," Klnn-dawan-a pointed out reasonably. "And you don't know the first thing about Chigin glitter-tag patterns."
"I could describe it to you."
"Now you're being silly, dear," Klnn-dawan-a chided. "All right, I think this is about as close as we can get. Everybody out."
The floater settled to the ground and the two of them got out. Stinger in hand, Klnn-dawan-a started slowly toward the whelp, talking soothingly to it as she walked. Thrr-gilag crouched down beside the floater, resting his arm on the curved beak plate, keeping his own stinger trained on the whelp. A motion off to the left caught the edge of his eye, and he flicked a glance that direction—
And froze. "Klnn-dawan-a?" he called quietly. "I think you'd better stop. Take a look to your left."
She paused and turned her head. Thrr-gilag couldn't see her face, but the sudden increase in her tail motion told him all he needed to know.
There were eight of them standing there: eight Chig, all in the unmistakable mottled dark-green metal semiarmor of hunter-warriors. Grouped around them on both sides were perhaps twenty whelps. The whole crowd was gazing unblinkingly at the two Zhirrzh... and they did not look friendly.
"Just take it easy," Klnn-dawan-a said softly to Thrr-gilag. "No fast movements. Those aren't toys they're holding."
Thrr-gilag nodded, feeling his own tail speed up. He hadn't even noticed the repeating crossbows until that beat, their shapes blending into the blotchy coloration of the semiarmor behind them. Forbidden by the Zhirrzh to possess high-technology weapons, the Chig had come up with these little gems instead. And they were most emphatically not toys. "What do you want me to do?" he murmured. "Should I try to take them out?"
"Not unless you want your bonding to be with an Elder," Klnn-dawan-a said tartly. "Just stay put and let's see what they want. And whatever you do, don't point your stinger at them."
The Chig were moving toward them, weapons at the ready, the whelps scampering chaotically around their feet. The group crossed the stream, and as they approached the floater, the lead Chig gestured sharply to Klnn-dawan-a with his crossbow. "Bkst-mssrss-(cough)-vtsslss-(cough)-hrss-vss-chlss," he said.
"Mrss-zhss-(cough)-hvssclss'frss-sk-(cough)," Klnn-dawan-a replied, waving her empty hand back toward Thrr-gilag.
"Bkst-mssrss-(cough)," the Chig said.
Klnn-dawan-a nodded and started walking slowly backward toward the floater. "What did you say?" Thrr-gilag asked. "Did you tell him we weren't going to hurt the whelp?"
"I don't think they particularly care about the whelp," Klnn-dawan-a said, her voice tight. "We're the ones they're interested in."
Thrr-gilag looked at the aliens' faces. "I don't like the sound of that."
"Neither do I," Klnn-dawan-a said, backing up against the floater. "These aren't mountain people, Thrr-gilag. Look at those whelps—no glitter tags. They're from one of the cities."
Thrr-gilag felt his tail speed up a little more. Five of those repeater crossbows were now pointed directly at the two Zhirrzh. "Aren't they a little far from home?"
"A good hundred fifty thoustrides at least," she said, "Possibly farther."
The leader and two of the others were standing together, gazing at the Zhirrzh and muttering among themselves. "I thought they weren't allowed to travel long distances," Thrr-gilag said.
"They're not," Klnn-dawan-a said. "But most of the warriors who used to enforce those restrictions have been pulled off Gree."
She spoke in the Chigin language again. The three Chig paused in their discussion, the leader saying something in reply. Klnn-dawan-a spoke again, and for a hunbeat the conversation went back and forth. Then the Chig said something sharp sounding and turned his back on the Zhirrzh. The other two Chig followed suit, the three of them resuming their muttered conversation.
Thrr-gilag took a careful breath. "So what's going on?"
"You're not going to believe this," Klnn-dawan-a said. "Apparently, they're a war party."
Thrr-gilag craned his neck to look at her profile. "They're what?"
"A war party. Or maybe a justice party—they use the same word for both. He says they're here to punish the mountain people for collaborating with us."
Thrr-gilag looked at the five Chig guarding them. At the semiarmor, the metal crossbows, the slender crossbow bolts.
At the long, unusually slender feathering and tips on those bolts...
"No," he murmured to Klnn-dawan-a. "I don't think so. Look at the feathering on those crossbow bolts. They look to me just about the right size to slip through the mesh of a predator fence."
Klnn-dawan-a stiffened. "You're right," she breathed. "They must be going for our encampment. But that's crazy."
"I agree," Thrr-gilag said, looking carefully around. "But they must have good reasons. Or what they consider to be good reasons."
He frowned, suddenly aware of the stinger he still held loosely in his hand. The Chig hadn't disarmed them... and only slowly did it dawn on him that they probably didn't realize the stingers were weapons. Most likely they assumed the devices were hand recorders—the size and shape were just about right for that.