Bac’cul stepped forward. Ruslan had not noticed him among the arrivals until now. “You have had more than enough time alone with our property, whose return we would now appreciate.”
So much for his brief sojourn as a “friend,” Ruslan thought. He was back to being a specimen again.
“As civilized beings,” Abinahhs replied smoothly, “you will appreciate that the ‘property’ may have an opinion of its own in this matter.” The elongated skull turned to face Ruslan. “I apologize for the method employed to bring you here. That need not affect your choice of destinies.” With one arm gesturing as sinuously as a snake swimming on the surface of a lake, he indicated the anxious Myssari. “Ruslan, you may return to whatever life they have provided for you. Or you can remain here, with us, and we will deed you a continent.”
He blinked. “Excuse me? A continent?”
“Whichever one you choose. It will be defined as your personal property. No Vrizan will set foot on it without your permission.” One limber hand waved at Cherpa. “This is the first we know of the existence of a mature human female. From my own personal studies of your kind, she would appear to be of breeding age. You could reseed your homeworld. We would be happy to assist.”
The growing tension on the Myssari side was palpable. Ruslan ignored it. He also volunteered nothing about the children already maturing on Myssar. “And what would you want in return?”
“To watch. To observe. To study how a species as bewildering as yours regenerates itself. To teach you and to learn from you.”
Ruslan considered. “What if I lay claim to the whole planet?”
Abinahhs was equally firm in denial. “You have no claim to it. Though it is the homeworld of your species, it has been devoid of sentient life for a considerable time and is therefore a legitimate site for colonization. You cannot even claim it as your personal home, as you come from another world entirely. The Integument is in a position to make good use of it. Without an immense and likely unavailable amount of direct assistance, you are unable to do so.”
“The Myssari could provide assistance as extensive as anything you can promise.”
Abinahhs made no attempt to deny it. “That is true. But they have no claim to this world. Not even an automatic survey drone has preceded this first visit of theirs. In any formal dispute between governments, they would be forced to contend with our conflicting and already well-established position.” Looking past Ruslan, he raised his voice. His Myssarian was perfectly intelligible.
“What of this matter, triploids? Will you dispute the Vrizan claim to this world? Will you fight for it?”
Jih’hune replied far more quickly than Ruslan would have liked.
“At this point in time we exert claim only to our friend, the human Ruslan. The Vrizan presence here has been noted. It will be discussed, but not here, now, or by us. As you are surely aware, as an expeditionary study force we hold no diplomatic portfolio.”
A stunned Cherpa turned to the Myssari who continued to exert a restraining grip on the young woman’s right arm. “What’s he saying? You’re giving the Vrizan the Earth?”
“We are giving them nothing.” The researcher looked as uncomfortable as she felt. “As Jih’hune declared, the matter will be discussed. By higher authorities than ourselves.” Turning her head ninety degrees, she indicated the now substantial crowd of armed Vrizan that had gathered to watch the confrontation. “It cannot be denied that they have a valid claim. This settlement is far more than a study outpost. As we slowed to land here I could see evidence of the beginnings of both agriculture and mining. Such developments declare their intentions far more unarguably than recorded words. And there may well be other such bases as this. It will be difficult to dislodge them.”
Blue eyes widened. “So you’re not going to fight for my homeworld?”
Cor’rin stiffened. “As you say, Earth is your homeworld. We would not fight for Daribb; we might do so for Seraboth. Colonization claims are much about precedence and the establishment of community. We can assert that for Ruslan’s homeworld but not for Daribb. And most assuredly not for Earth. It may be your ancient homeworld, but to the Combine as well as to the Vrizan it is only one more habitable world among hundreds. Valuable, yes. Worth fighting over, most likely not.” Removing one hand from Cherpa’s arm, she gestured at the Vrizan with the other two.
“As concerns Ruslan himself, I am not worried about their weapons. I am worried about their offer. By any standards it is generous.”
Setting aside for the moment any notions of interceding with violence, a suddenly concerned Cherpa joined the researcher in staring across the colorful pavement at the man who had been her mentor and who was, however indirectly, the father of her offspring.
“You don’t seriously—you don’t think Bogo will accept? Do you?”
“As I said: a generous offer. As we learned on Daribb, the Vrizan badly want access to the knowledge only a live human can give them. They need not have offered to do anything but match what we have provided. Instead, they have gone beyond that. What they have proposed is considerably more beguiling. A vast locale on the human homeworld itself where your kind might regenerate entirely free from all but requested and permitted outside help.”
“It doesn’t matter. He won’t accept.” Cherpa straightened. “I know Bogo. He’s going to turn them down.”
Small bright eyes regarded her from beneath inflexible bony brows. “How can you be so certain?”
“Because while Bogo may be human, he’s also become part Myssari.”
“I and my kind are flattered.” Cor’rin made a gesture rich with gratitude. But she did not take her third hand off Cherpa’s gun arm. “For discussion’s sake, though, if he should prove your assessment wrong, what will you do? Will you return with us to the outpost or will you go with him?”
Cherpa did not reply. It was a possibility she had not considered. It was one she did not want to consider.
The Myssari were silent, waiting. It was left to the gathering Vrizan to murmur and mutter among themselves. Only those who were members of the scientific community, led by Abinahhs, understood what was at stake. Having waited through an increasingly tense silence on the part of the human specimen, the Vrizan researcher was visibly relieved when Ruslan’s eyes finally turned back to him.
“You know,” Ruslan said calmly, “if you had never brought up the subject of learning the secrets of the Aura Malignance, I might seriously have considered accepting your offer.” He shook his head. “In contrast, no request of the sort was ever broached to me by the Myssari, not ever. It makes my choice easy.” So saying, he turned away and started across the open plaza that haloed the wonderful fountain. No Vrizan moved to stop him. Any one of them could have raised a weapon and easily brought him down, he knew. Shot or paralyzed him right in the back. He knew nothing of the sort would happen. However covetous of another species’ property, one did not risk damage to it if it happened to be an irreplaceable scientific specimen.
Pulling away from Cor’rin and separating herself from the band of armed Myssari, Cherpa slammed into him so hard and wrapped her arms around him so tightly that he nearly lost his footing.
“Bogo! I told Cor’rin you wouldn’t stay with the Vrizan. I told her!”
She was right, he knew, but perhaps not for the reasons she thought.
“So, I’m back.” Turning, he gently freed himself from her embrace. “Abinahhs! I want you and your kind off my homeworld. I want you to know that I’ll be working toward that end.”
The Vrizan gestured complacently. “And what of the Myssari? Do you wish them to leave this world as well? Or are you—exhibiting what I believe from my studies of the ancient human language is called ‘hypocrisy’—content to have them swarm here in numbers you wish to deny us?”