The priest had just recently discovered what factionalism could do. The divisiveness had gone all the way to the point of betrayal! Why else had one of its two race-leader chimpanzees been stolen?
Now the Suzerain of Cost and Caution was insisting on a role in choosing the new male. No doubt the bureaucrat was responsible for the “escape” of the Fiben Bolger chimp in the first place! Such a promising creature it had been! By now it no doubt had been converted to vapor and ashes.
There would be no way to pin this on either of the rival Suzerains, of course.
A Kwackoo servitor approached and knelt, proffering a data cube in its beak. Given assent, it popped the record into a player unit.
The room dimmed and the Suzerain of Propriety watched a camera’s-eye view of driving rain and darkness. It shivered involuntarily, disliking the ugly, dank dinginess of a wolfling town.
The view panned over a muddy patch in a dark alley… a broken shack made of wire and wood, where Terran birds had been kept as pets … a pile of soggy clothing beside a padlocked factory… footprints leading to a churned up field of mud beside a bent and battered fence… more footprints leading off into the dim wilderness…
The implications were apparent to the Suzerain before the investigators’ report reached its conclusion.
The male neo-chimpanzee had perceived the trap set for it! It appeared to have made good its escape!
The Suzerain danced upon its perch, a series of mincing steps of ancient lineage.
At a gesture its Kwackoo followers hurried forward. The Suzerain’s first command was straightforward.
The servitor bowed, and the other Kwackoo crooned. “Zoooon!”
69
Government in Exile
The holo-tank cleared as the interstellar message ran to its end. When the lights came on, the Council members looked at each other in puzzlement. “What. . . what does it mean?” Colonel Maiven asked.
“I’m not sure,” said Commander Kylie. “But it’s clear the Gubru are up to something.”
Refuge Administrator Mu Chen drummed her fingers on the table. “They appeared to be officials from the Uplift Institute. It seems to mean the invaders are planning some sort of Uplift ceremony, and have invited witnesses.”
That much is obvious, Megan thought. “Do you think this has anything to do with that mysterious construction south of Port Helenia?” she asked. The site had been a topic of much discussion lately.
Colonel Maiven nodded. “I had been reluctant to admit the possibility before, but now I’d have to say so.”
The chim member spoke. “Why would they want to hold an Uplift ceremony for the Kwackoo here on Garth? It doesn’t make sense. Would that improve their claim on our leasehold?”
“I doubt it,” Megan said. “Maybe… maybe it isn’t for the Kwackoo at all.”
“But then for who?”
Megan shrugged. Kylie commented. “The Uplift Institute officials appear to be in the dark as well.”
There was a long silence. Then Kylie broke it again.
“How significant do you think it is that the spokesman was human?”
Megan smiled. “Obviously it was meant as a dig at the Gubru. That man might have been no more than a junior clerk trainee at the local Uplift Institute branch. Putting him out in front of Pila and Z’Tang and Serentini means Earth isn’t finished yet. And certain powers want to point that out to the Gubru.”
“Hm. Pila. They’re tough customers, and members of the Soro clan. Having a human spokesman might be an insult to the Gubru, but it’s no guarantee Earth is okay.”
Megan understood what Kylie meant. If the Soro now dominated Earthspace, there were rough times ahead.
Again, another long silence. Then Colonel Maiven spoke.
“They mentioned a hyperspace shunt. Those are expensive. The Gubru must set great store by this ceremony thing.”
Indeed, Megan thought, knowing that a motion had been put before the Council. And this time she realized that it would be hard to justify holding to Uthacalthing’s advice.
“You are suggesting a target, colonel?”
“I sure am, madam coordinator.” Maiven sat up and met her eyes. “I think this is the opportunity we’ve been waiting for.”
There were nods of agreement up and down the table. They are voting out of boredom, and frustration, and sheer cabin fever, Megan knew. And yet, is this not a golden chance, to be seized or lost forever?
“We cannot attack once the emissaries from the Uplift Institute have arrived,” she emphasized, and saw that everybody understood how important that was. “However, I agree that there may be a window of opportunity during which a strike could be made.”
Consensus was obvious. In a corner of her mind, Megan felt there really ought to be more discussion. But she, too, was near filled to bursting with impatience.
“We shall cut new orders to Major Prathachulthorn then. He shall receive carte blanche, subject only to, the condition that any attack be completed by November first. Is it agreed?”
A simple raising of hands. Commander Kylie hesitated, then joined in to make it unanimous.
We are committed, Megan thought. And she wondered if Hell reserved a special place for mothers who send their own sons into battle.
70
Robert
She didn’t have to go away, did she? I mean she herself said it was all right.
Robert rubbed his stubbled chin. He thought about taking a shower and shaving. Major Prathachulthorn would be calling a meeting sometime after it reached full light, and the commander liked to see his officers well groomed.
What I really should be doing is sleeping, Robert knew. They had just finished a whole series of night exercises. It would be wise to catch up on his rest.
And yet, after a couple of hours of fitful slumber he had found himself too nervous, too full of restless energy to stay in bed any longer. He had risen and gone to his small desk, setting up the datawell so its light would not disturb the chamber’s other occupant. For some time he read through Major Prathachulthorn’s detailed order of battle.
It was ingenious, professional. The various options appeared to offer a number of efficient” ways to use limited forces to strike the enemy, and strike Rim hard. All that remained was choosing the right target. There were several choices available, any of which ought to do.
Still, something about the entire edifice struck Robert as wrong. The document did not increase his confidence, as he had hoped it would. In the space over his head Robert almost imagined something taking form — something faintly akin to the dark clouds that had shrouded the mountains in storms so recently — a symbolic manifestation of his unease.
Across the little chamber a form moved under the blankets. One slender arm lay exposed, and a smooth length of calf and thigh.
Robert concentrated and erased the nonthing that he had been forming with his simple aura-power. It had begun affecting Lydia’s dreams, and it wouldn’t be fair to inflict his own turmoil upon her. For all of their recent physical intimacy, they were still in many ways strangers.
Robert reminded himself that there were some positive aspects to the last few days. The battle plan, for instance, showed that Prathachulthorn was at last taking some of his ideas seriously. And spending time with Lydia had brought more than physical pleasure. Robert had not realized how much he missed the simple touch of his own kind. Humans might be able to withstand isolation better than chims — who could fall into deep depression if they lacked a grooming partner for very long. But mel and fern humans, too, had their apelike needs.