“And you’re not an animal?”
“No.”
“We’ll agree to disagree. Let’s get back on track. Nora is in the cages. What then? What you’ve dug up looks like a mutiny to me.”
“There iss major fight battle inside Bitch at Wunderland. You in not notice the spoor. Clever cleanup.” He went over his documentation of the erased dents, the electronic equipment which had been rigged and then derigged, including a control room network tap. “Evidence toolroom jigs iss hasty set to shape-out weapons not good for any use except fight inside ship.” Hwass was able to reconstruct the battle almost from the original dormitory gassings to the final killings in the corridors.
“Jotoki against ratcat?”
Hwass obviously had difficulty with Yankee’s phrasing. “Slave against master,” he corrected stiffly.
“Does that happen often?”
Hwass smiled at the insult, waiting to calm himself before he continued. “Never. Iss work of ruthless traitor, Trainer-of-Slaves. Death penalty by chopped-liver for what he iss do.”
“Sounds familiar.”
“You iss must understand. Dominance/dominated roles established iss what make war profitable. Sometimes produce conundrum puzzle.
“Number one conundrum: Trainer-of-Slaves iss ordered to battle. Iss his heroic duty. As dominated-one, he sees himself make glorious obedience. All piece of puzzles fit right action. Iss good approvable solution. Thus conundrum puzzle complete.
“But Hwakkss! He iss notice piece protrude. Many ways to put conundrum back together—but iss only one way with no piece protrude. Hwakkss, this sticking-out-piece iss battle loss of important captive and all special knowledge!
“Number two: Trainer-of-Slaves iss has other excellent duty. Captive gifted to Patriarch so her big knowledge iss war profit. Such good aftermath iss golden desire. But conundrum puzzle completed new way iss has new piece sticking out.
“Hwakkss! New sticking-out-piece iss mean must break dominance bond/word/honor-run from battle-kill warriors who iss trekking duty bound. Bad smell.
“Puzzle put together one way, Trainer-of-Slaves iss traitor. Puzzle put together other way, Trainer-of-Slaves iss traitor. What iss your monkey idiom: rock and hard place?”
“Sounds like a recipe for mutiny,” said Yankee. “That I understand.” But he wasn’t convinced. “So this Trainer-of-Slaves waves his w'tsai in the air and his slaves swarm over the ship, killing kzin?” Put that way it didn’t even sound likely.
Hwass was pained. It wasn’t that simple.
First he had to explain the peculiar nature of the slaves commanded by Trainer-of-Slaves. No Jotok could or would revolt. (Hwass was absolutely sure of that) Any Jotok, he explained, was a hopeless strategist because it was an animal with five minds. These spiderlike vegetarians were subject to five-way internal arguments. Each mind had absolute control over only one arm and one though each could grant control to another mind. Depending upon which minds were awake and which were asleep, a Jotok went through a kaleidoscope of daily personality changes. He could not create orders—but a properly trained Jotok would obey orders!
“I’ve been led to understand that many kzin refuse to own Jotoki because they can be vicious and unpredictable. That doesn’t sound like obeying orders to me.”
“You iss must understand the mystical order that God iss place upon His creations. When you know God’s mind all iss revealed. The secret of Jotoki loyalty iss simple. Never buy a Jotok. He iss will serve you well or maybe not—but he iss be loyal to his trainer. Never to accept Jotok as gift. He iss will work hard—but he iss be loyal only to his trainer.” Hwass thumped his tail. It was irritating to have to explain such elementary realities to an animal. “Trainer-of-Slaves iss have no sons to raise. He iss have time to train Jotoki. The worst he sells, the best he keeps. You iss understand now?”
“Not really.”
Hwass continued his impatient lecture. He had deduced the only possible scenario. When Trainer-of-Slaves learned that the Nesting-Slashtooth-Bitch was to be committed to a deadly battle he laid out a plan of action for his disciplined corps of Jotoki slaves before being arrested for insubordination and confined to hibernation. All they had to do was early out his brilliant plan.
“Trainer-of-Slaves iss master strategist.”
First the deadly gas attack on the dormitory to kill all sleeping kzin. Hwass was unaware of the nature of the gas but was certain that Trainer knew enough chemistry to manufacture it. Then the failed attack directly at the command center which had sent the now alert kzin scurrying to battle stations. This had set up a cascade of killing traps, each one propelling the surviving kzinti into the next.
“If he’s such a brilliant strategist, why was he so afraid of Lieutenant Argamentine?”
“Trainer-of-Slaves iss known coward. Mocking name iss ‘Eater-of-Grass.’ Lieutenant-Observer iss once escape. Iss try kill Trainer.” Hwass’s ears were wiggling in mirth. “Trainer pisses vegetable broth. Iss has made big mistake. Was assume female human iss feminine.”
“He got that right.”
“Iss wrong. Human females is all dyke.” Hwass’s ears were wiggling again.
“You’re asking to be spaced.”
“Iss joke,” said Hwass, grinning. “Spacing me iss breaking honorable contract.”
“Take it easy. I’m just being sarcastic. You’ve earned your passage back to Kzin.”
“Twice,” growled Hwass.
It might be a good idea to space him, thought Yankee, contract be damned. He knew too much. But it didn’t really matter. If the Shark had been repaired, the Patriarch already knew, and if it hadn’t made it, learning that Trainer had failed wasn’t going to help the Patriarch. And Hwass would be carrying a peace message from Commissioner Markham.
“My word is good,” he said.
“Contract iss not finish yet. You iss need guide to Hssin.” The ratcat was thinking that the Shark might be down there.
“Suppose we found the ship down there? What would you do?”
“Iss interesting hypothetical question.”
Later Yankee grumbled about Hwasschoaw when he was discussing the details of the coming Hssin landing party with their captain. “Every time I talk to him he gives me the heebie-jeebies. He’s planning to kill us all.”
“Of course. He’s a kzin. But he can’t.”
“I didn’t like the way he was looking at my air-conditioning grille. He had a glint in his eye when he talked about how Trainer had gassed the crew of the Bitch. Why did he notice that detail? It was on his mind.”
“We’ve got eight separate life-support systems on this ship. The air conditioners lock up the second they sense fire or toxic gas.”
“I think I’m going to keep at least two men in suits at all times.”
“What about food poisoning?” the captain teased.
“I’ll think about it.”
“We billet him in what amounts to a cage. When he’s out, he’s under guard.”
“He’ll escape. He’s going to try to kill us all and steal the ship.”
The captain laughed. “Not a chance.”
“Don’t count on it.”
Chapter 12
Grraf-Nig’s plan to steal the Shark and escape to Kzin was proceeding without a flaw. His team of W’kkai engineers had rebuilt the Shark to his specifications, saving the internal structures he was sure were necessary for the hyperfield build-up, replacing the rest with a kzinti design that was far in advance of any standard kzin technology. He’d been in maintenance at Wunderland, adept at implementing illegal ship modifications in fighters; he knew he had at his disposal the most deadly small fighting craft ever fielded by the kzinti. It would be able to outmaneuver any ship of the old W’kkai Standard Spec Attack Fleet. If it was in operational condition.