“What have the Deutsche done now?” Ttomalss asked. He did not think the Race could have infuriated her so.
He turned out to be right. “They have released from imprisonment the ginger smuggler Dutourd,” she blazed. That incensed reply almost made him laugh, considering how fond of the Tosevite herb she was. She went on, “They promised he would stay imprisoned for a long time. They promised, and they lied.”
“This is unfortunate, but hardly unique in our experience on Tosev 3,” Ttomalss said. “Big Uglies, I sometimes think, lie for the sport of it.”
“So I gather,” Felless answered. “Rather more than the sport of it is involved here, however. The Deutsch minister of justice, a male named Dietrich, all but said-I thought he did say-to Ambassador Veffani that this Dutourd would remain imprisoned for a long time to come. I was there. I heard him.”
“Ah,” Ttomalss said. “That does put things in a different light.”
“I should say so!” Felless said. “The ambassador is furious. He has already begun composing a memorandum of protest to the justice minister and another one to the ruler of this not-empire: to Himmler, whatever his title may be.”
“Reichs Chancellor,” Ttomalss supplied.
“Reichs Chancellor, General Secretary, President-what difference does it make?” Felless said impatiently. “All these titles are only fancy names pasted over emptiness. But this one has the nerve to defy the Race. I cannot believe his duplicity will stand.”
“Is making Himmler and, ah, Dietrich change their minds worth a possible nuclear exchange with the Reich?” Ttomalss asked. “That is the question the fleetlord will have to answer for himself before proceeding.”
“If we do not persuade the Big Uglies that they must keep their word, they will promise us peace one day and then begin a nuclear exchange themselves the next,” Felless said.
“This is likely to be truth,” Ttomalss agreed. “It is also my point: we should not let their lies take us by surprise.”
“They yielded on all other matters pertaining to this incident,” Felless said. “They released the American Tosevites who were acting as our agents. Despite protests, they even released a Tosevite in some way related to a Big Ugly who advises the fleetlord of the conquest fleet. And then they defy us about this smuggler-defy us after saying they would not.”
“As I said, they are known to be devious. Competing against one another has made them so,” Ttomalss said. He wondered whether the Big Uglies really were devious enough to impersonate a male of the Race on the computer network. As he’d told Kassquit, it was possible, but he still had trouble believing it.
Felless said, “I will be laying my eggs soon. I would like to think my hatchlings will become adults on a world where the Race is able to hold the natives in check, if nothing more.”
“Will all be well for the hatchlings if you stay here?” Ttomalss asked. “I know Slomikk was considering sending females away, to reduce the risk of radiation damage to their eggs.”
“The risk is relatively small, and my work is important to me and to the Race,” Felless replied. “I have considered, and have decided to stay.”
“Very well,” Ttomalss said. Few Tosevite females, he judged, would have made the same choice. Because of their biology and the unique helplessness of their hatchlings, their females developed stronger attachments for them than was usual among the Race. Ttomalss had discovered that after taking the female Liu Han’s hatchling and beginning the attempt to raise it as a female of the Race. Her revenge still made him shudder after all these years. Perhaps most frightening of all was the knowledge that she could have done worse.
Felless came back to what was uppermost in her mind: “How can we properly punish these Big Uglies when they flout our wishes?”
“If I knew that, I would deserve to be the fleetlord,” Ttomalss answered. “No-I would deserve to be above the fleetlord, for no one has yet found any sure answer to that question.”
“There must be one,” Felless said. “Perhaps we should start smuggling large quantities of drugs into the Reich and let the Deutsche see how they like that. I know Ambassador Veffani is considering the scheme.”
“I hope he decides wisely,” Ttomalss said, which let him avoid stating an opinion of the idea. Thinking of opinions made him ask one of Felless: “Do you believe, Senior Researcher, that a Big Ugly could impersonate a male of the Race well enough to deceive other males and females on our computer network?”
Felless considered. “I would doubt it,” she said at last. “Surely a Tosevite in close electronic contact with the Race would betray himself before long.”
“This is my belief also,” Ttomalss said with considerable relief. “I am glad to hear you confirm it.”
“Why do you ask?” Felless inquired. “Have you any evidence such impersonation may be occurring?”
“Kassquit has found enough to be thought-provoking, at least,” Ttomalss replied.
“Oh, Kassquit,” Felless said dismissively. “Being a Big Ugly herself, she doubtless looks to discover others, even if they are not there.”
“You could be right,” Ttomalss said. “That had not occurred to me, but it may hold much truth.” For all his efforts to make Kassquit as much a part of the Race as he could, biology dictated that she remained in some part a Tosevite, too. Would it be any wonder if she thought she found other Big Uglies on the computer network whether or not they were actually there? Yes, Felless’ words must indeed hold a good deal of truth-he was sure of it. He assumed the posture of respect. “I thank you, superior female. You have done much to ease my mind.”
Monique Dutourd wished with all her heart that the world would simply return to normal once more. The British Jew who’d been after her brother on behalf of his ginger-smuggling pals was gone. So were the Americans who’d been after Pierre on behalf of the Lizards.
And Pierre himself was out of the German jail and doing his best to set up his business again, even if he could no longer operate independent of the Reich. So far as Monique knew, the Gestapo wasn’t particularly aggrieved with him at the moment. Everything should have been fine, or as fine as it could get in a France under the Germans’ control for so long.
But Dieter Kuhn remained enrolled in her classes. As far as she was concerned, that in and of itself meant trouble hadn’t yet disappeared. Monique wished the SS man gave her an excuse to fail him; that might have got him out of her hair. But he was-he would be, she thought with resigned anger-a good student, easily in the top quarter of the class.
Every so often, something inside her would snap. Once, she barked, “Damn you, why can’t you leave me alone?”
“Because, my dear, you know such… interesting people,” he answered. His grin might have been attractive, had she been able to stand him. “You know smugglers, you know Jews, you know me.”
“My inscriptions are more interesting than you are,” Monique snapped, “and they’re dead.”
Too late to recall the words, she remembered that, at a nod from Sturmbannfuhrer Kuhn, she could become as dead as any inscription praising Isis. He didn’t order her arrested and tormented. But he could have. She knew he could have. These days, a lot of fear of the Nazis was based on what they had done and might do, not on what they usually did. That fear sufficed.
“You are still a key to your brother’s good behavior,” Dieter Kuhn said imperturbably. Then something in his face changed. “And you are also an intelligent, good-looking woman. If you think I do not find you attractive, you are mistaken.”
Monique looked around the empty lecture hall as if seeking a place to hide. She found none, of course. She hadn’t been sure whether Kuhn was interested in her that way or not; she’d wondered if he preferred his own sex. Now that she knew the answer, she wished she didn’t.