One of the hunters knocked him to his knees, but S’larbo snarled a “Belay!”
“You know what I’m talking about,” said Flex, not getting up. “The Puppeteers are essentially hunting you to extinction. However cowardly they are, and however unfair they fight, the end result is the same.”
S’larbo licked his whiskers. “It is you humans who have hunted us for them. If they are puppeteers, then you are the puppets. And by the way, you have just confirmed that you have infiltrated this place to kill as many of our offspring as you can.”
Just as well that S’larbo bought the cover story, thought Flex. He could negotiate on that basis. “That is only partly true,” he said. “Some of us came for that purpose.” He watched for reaction, unsure whether the kzin knew about his human companions. Using the most formal words in the Heroes’ Tongue he knew, Flex said, “I myself have sworn not to kill any of your kittens on this mission.”
“We killed the other monkeys,” S’larbo said. “They landed in a secluded place nearby, while your decoy in space tried to fool us.” He hissed and spat on Flex. “You stupid monkeys! You think we are so foolish as to fall for that trick? Your cunning ways have served you long enough, but we are on to them.”
“You killed all three men?” Flex said, probing.
“There were four!”
Good, thought Flex. Not that he felt good about the others being killed and eaten, but at least they hadn’t found Annie yet.
“So you see,” S’larbo continued, “we have enough human meat to satisfy our customers’ wildest dreams, leaving you for my gallery.”
“You’ll let me go.”
S’larbo leaped into the air, turning full around and lashing Flex’s face with his tail in the process. “Ouch,” Flex said sarcastically.
“Why should I let you go?”
“Because I am not really part of this operation,” he said. “I was planted with them for a different purpose. That’s why I broke away from them before landing. In exchange for my life, I will give you whatever information you wish.”
Jarko-S’larbo turned to stoke his fire, gazing into it the way humans have done for centuries when lost in thought. He had them intrigued. Before they came to some decision, he had to play another big card, to gain what advantage he could.
“There is one more human with me,” he said. “She’s injured, and I want you to help me find her and let us go. If you do that, I promise you will find what I have to tell you well worth it. Remember, we still have a big advantage orbiting your establishment.”
“She?” S’larbo repeated, turning back to Flex, his interest piqued. Flex regretted the word instantly. “There was a female with you out in the park?” To the hunters, S’larbo said, “Go find her, before the sizzle-teeth do!”
And to Flex, “I have never tasted a human female before. She will make tonight’s dining a one-in-a-million experience for the hunters. Then maybe it will be the humans that will become extinct, starting with her.”
All three hunters pounced out to initiate a search, leaving Flex alone with S’larbo. Two guards paced at the back of the room, their hind claws clacking on the stone floor. Flex weighed his chances and concluded that he could not fight his way out of this one. His only hope of saving her lay with this whiskered slob.
“We’re not done yet,” Flex said. “Have you ever heard the saying, ‘If you need information, you need a Jinxian’? Well that’s me. That’s how I earn my kibbles and cream.”
“My grandfather had a saying, too,” S’larbo said. “‘Monkey lie, monkey die.’ Why it took so long for us to realize that you don’t think honorably the way we do I don’t know. But you can give up your feeble attempts to deceive me. I have already caught you in a lie about your numbers.”
“What if I just show you then?” Flex said. “I cannot only prove I have information that will save you from the conspiracy we both know is out there, but I can do it without leaving your den. You have nothing to lose.”
“I don’t believe for a whisker that anything you are saying is true. What kind of boneless prick begs for its life with pure deceit?”
“If we wanted to kill you and your kittens, we could have done it with heavy weapons without trying to sneak in here. Think about that. Isn’t it possible that we cooperate with the Puppeteers to learn more about them? Keep your enemies close, and all that?”
“The only information I need from you is the location of the Puppeteer home world.” Jarko-S’larbo kept his eyes narrowed on Flex, but Flex could tell that he was mulling things over. He could have ripped Flex in half at any time. “On second thought, I would also have your title.”
Names and titles were of utmost importance to kzinti, especially those who had particularly good ones. Jarko-S’larbo was a full Name, earned from a successful career as a rich businessman. S’larbo had made his fortune attracting other rich kzinti to his pleasure palace, replete with big game hunting and, evidently, kinky kzinretti.
“I have no official title,” Flex said, “because I represent no government or organization. All I can tell you about is my name.”
“You are a mercenary then,” the kzin concluded.
“My full name is Argumos Bothme, but growing up, people called me Arri. Now they call me Flex,” he translated, “because of my fighting style.”
“A warrior for hire then. Not the sort to go on a suicide mission.” S’larbo growled over the thought.
This cat is smart, Flex thought. Fewer lies, always wise.
“What is the history of ‘Bothme’?”
An odd question. The only reason Flex could imagine for the kzin’s curiosity was that he wanted to know how to label the pedestal that would soon hold Flex’s stuffed carcass.
“Bothme derives from the old English words ‘both’ and ‘me.’ My great-grandfather Argumos was an organlegger, and he had an illegal clone of himself made, so he could harvest the organs when his failed. There’s a black market for those on Jinx. For some reason the clone grew up as an independent citizen. I don’t know why; maybe Argumos was caught. Anyway, the family split from two ancestors, which Argumos called ‘both me,’ to avoid legal battles over inheritance. To this day, none of his descendants knows which was from the original or the cloned line.”
“So you are not even a bastard, but an artificial one!” S’larbo’s hooded ears perked.
Flex shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m from the original line.”
“To be uncertain is the greatest shame imaginable. But let’s cut to the quick. If you monkeys have quick inside those pink beetles that pass for claws. Why are you here?”
“Right now, the only thing I care about is my mate, who is injured somewhere out in the jungle. She and I have a secret mission, that even the mercenaries we came with didn’t know. All they knew was that they were to help kidnap you. It was to be a surgical strike.”
“Not to kill as many kzinti as possible?”
“I’ll be honest with you. No one was concerned about collateral damage. It happens. But no, the clients that funded the mission only wanted you alive. There’s something they need from you.”
That was mostly true. Flex did not know the details, only that a Puppeteer named Hylo wanted information from S’larbo. He knew little about the peculiar two-headed creatures, and had only seen Hylo on image screens, and then only in silhouette. The information sought was about something called Zeno’s Wormhole, whatever that was. How this pompous puss came upon such esoteric data was a mystery. But then, with so many ranking kzinti passing through his lair, it made sense that he might be involved in some far-flung enterprises.
“And you don’t know why they wanted to capture me?”
“You’re rich, aren’t you? I can imagine any number of reasons.”
S’larbo roared. The sleeping female stirred, but did not wake. She only purred louder. “Do you honestly think that paltry bit of disinformation would free you?”