“If my world is gone, so much the better,” the general said, softly. There was a long silence and then he made a faint mew. “The reason we don’t talk to you, Miller, is because we know the depths of dishonor. And we find it hard, impossible, to share them.”
“Well, I’m black ops,” Miller said, leaning back. “It ain’t all fields of glory. One of our mottoes is: We do a lot of things we wish we didn’t have to. So: Why?”
The general made another mew and looked away, silent for a moment, then he looked back.
“I was a young officer, what you would call a lieutenant, when the Masters came to our world.
“The banners of Tchraow flew from sea to sea, upon them the sun never set. We had bested the Raaown, we had conquered the Troool, an ancient and powerful land. The White Empress held sway over a vast empire. And then we were given word that in the unsettled lands a new power was arising. I was a young officer in charge of a small unit in the expedition that went out to pacify this new threat.
“We came upon Master forces far from their bases. The ones you call dog-demons and the thorn-throwers. Our sraaah riders fell upon them in a terrible charge and it was a complete defeat. The infantry stood their ground against the Masters for as long as they could but we had only cannon and poor rifles to try to hold them. They broke us. A regiment that had never been broken and they broke us like a twig.
“I was carried back on a stretcher, hundreds of your miles. It was upon the Plains of Shraaaan that I took this,” he said, gesturing at his eye. “And other hurts. But I survived. All the resources of the Troool empire were gathered, host upon host. General Mreooorw, who had defeated the Raaown, was sent from Tchraow though he was old, old. You call me a general?” the cat said, looking at Miller. “That, that was a general. He had never lost a battle, but he lost one then. We met them on the Plains of Mraaa, a vast host, shining in the sun. Cannons ranked league upon league, in perfect positions, our infantry filled the valley and the hosts of sraaah riders were like the ocean’s waves.” He paused a moment, savoring the image.
“And they destroyed us. Of that vast host no more than one in ten survived. I was one of those unlucky enough to stumble away from that black field.
“Again and again we met them but we could never defeat the Masters. In time, we lost Troool to them and some of us, a fragment of the Tchraow who had been masters there, fled back to our homelands.
“Tchraow was far from Troool and we thought we might be safe. We sent out more forces, aiding other lands, I did my time in that duty, but always the Masters were undefeatable. They spread, land to land, sometimes slowly, sometimes in jumps. They created vast weapons of war, air-beings that blotted out the sun, giant Nitch-like creatures that burned the land as they came, every footstep a disaster, spitting fire from their mouths. Water did not stop them for they could fly through the air. Nor did distance.
“Finally, they sent the N!T!Ch! to us. The N!T!Ch! had been slaves long before our world was conquered and they managed to communicate with us. The Dreen held hundreds, possibly thousands, of worlds. They spread by the gates but also by biological systems that drift from solar system to solar system, looking for fecund planets. One such had found our planet and it would be fully colonized unless we submitted to the Masters. The Masters would let some of us live if we submitted tribute to them. Metals, many that we had never heard of before, certain types of gems and…” He paused and did spit, “ ‘biological’ materials for their expansion.”
“Biological?” Bill asked. “Herd animals?”
“Those and the bodies of our people,” the general said with a snarling yowl. “We were defeated. We knew we were. There was no choice. So we made that devil’s bargain. We sent our best to slave in the Master’s mines. We sent our litters to the Masters to be ‘reprocessed.’ Our herds, our bodies, whatever it took to keep us alive. And when they called for us to trick you? You think we paused? Do you think we cared? After giving of our own bodies? My litters…” The general paused and his face worked in anguish. “My children…”
“General,” Miller said, after a pause. “We need one more service of you. You must ask your people to give us information. We need to know about the Dreen.”
“The Dreen,” the cat spat. “Better to call them that. We called them the T!Ch!R! because that was the name the N!T!Ch! used. We learned, soon, that it simply meant ‘the Masters.’ They had come to regard them, simply, as gods. I suppose we would in time as well. This,” he said, holding up his arm, “this I lost to the Dreen. My eye, my arm, bits of my flesh, my children. My honor.”
He hung his head again and rowled, a cry of anguish and anger that seemed to hang in the air even after he had finished, then set his features.
“I will give orders that my people will communicate with yours,” he said, looking directly at Miller. “We have little time. There is no food upon this planet we can eat. The food your scientists gives us still lacks something. In short, we, probably the last of our species, are dying and there is no escape. We will aid you, but I want something of you, as well. I think you know what it is.”
“I do,” Miller replied. “I understand. If it had not been for Dr. Weaver, here, and about a hundred years of technological advancement, I’d have been in your position. I hope that I could have survived it and done what I had to as well as you. For my world and for my children.”
“Tell Sraaan, he is my aide, that the code is ‘Mraaa.’ It was the last, the best, time of our people. He will know what to do.” The general hung his head and then looked up at Miller. “May I have my choice, now?”
“Yes,” Miller said, nodding. He drew the pistol and racked a round into the chamber. Then he dropped out the magazine and pocketed it. “I am glad that my first impression was not wrong. I wish that the universe was not so cruel. I would have liked to have stood side by side with you in battle. May we meet upon the shining fields, battle evil all day, feast all night and rise anew to do battle once more.”
“That is not your local faith,” the general said, interested.
“I am not a Christian,” Miller said, laying the pistol on the table. Then he stood up and saluted the general. “See you in Valhalla, General Thrathptttt.”
Weaver stood up as well and inclined his head, then the two of them went out the door. The guard on the door looked at them, quizzically then his eyes dropped to Miller’s empty holster and he started to reach for his radio.
Miller lifted one hand and looked him in the eye.
“I’m here on Presidential orders, son,” the SEAL said. “Don’t force me to make you eat that radio.” There was the sound of a pistol shot and he closed his eyes, his lips moving. All that Bill could catch was something about shining fields.
EPILOGUE
“Our Dreen boson has closed as well,” Tchar said, nodding to Bill as he stepped through the Adar gate.
“So I heard,” Bill said, looking around at the Adari facility. There were even more humans than had been there before the Kentucky battle. “Which doesn’t explain why I’m here. There are plenty of diplomats around.”
“The ardass wishes to speak with you,” Tchar said, waving him into one of the Adar scooters.