“Zooon!”
“This prize was denied us, honor was set aside, opportunity abandoned, all in the name of penny-pinching, miserly bean-counting! Now the cost will be greater, multiplied, exponentiated!”
The Suzerain of Cost and Caution stood miserably in the corner, listening amid a small crowd ef loyal assistants while it was berated from all sides. It shivered each time the conclave turned and shouted its refrain.
The Suzerain of Propriety stood tall upon its perch. It stepped back and forth, fluffing up to best display the new color that had begun to show under its molting plumage. The assembled Gubru and Kwackoo reacted to that shade with chirps of passionate devotion.
“And now a derelict, recalcitrant, stubborn one forestalls our Molt and consensus, out of which we might at least regain something. Gain honor and allies. Gain peace!”
The Suzerain spoke of their missing colleague, the military commander, who dared not, it seemed, come and face Propriety’s new color, its new supremacy.
A four-legged Kwackoo hurriedly approached, bowed, and delivered a message to its leader’s perch. Almost as an afterthought, a copy made its way to the Suzerain of Cost and Caution as well.
The news from the Pourmin transfer point was not surprising — echoes had been heard of great starships bearing down upon Garth in mighty numbers. After that debacle of an Uplift Ceremony, the new arrivals were only to be expected.
“Well?” The Suzerain of Propriety queried the several military officers who were present. “Does Beam and Talon plan a defense of this world, against all advice, all wisdom, and all honor?”
The officers, of course, did not know. They had deserted their warrior leader as the confusing, unhappy Molt-coalescence suddenly reversed direction.
The Suzerain of Propriety danced a dance of impatience. “You do me no good, do the clan no good, standing about in righteousness. Go back, seek out, return to your posts. Do your duties as he commands, but keep me informed of what he plans and does!”
Use of the male pronoun was deliberate. Though Molt was not yet complete, anyone could tell without dropping feathers which way the wind was blowing.
The officers bowed and rushed as one out of the pavilion.
93
Robert
Debris littered the now quiescent Ceremonial Mound. Stiff easterly winds riffled the lawnlike slopes, tugging at stringy rubbish blown in earlier from the distant mountains. Here and there, city chims poked through trash on the lower terraces, looking for souvenirs.
Higher up only a few pavilions still stood. Around these several dozen large black forms lazily groomed each other’s fur and gossiped with their hands, as if they had never had anything more momentous on their minds than who would mate with whom and what they would be fed next meal.
To Robert it seemed as if the gorillas were quite well satisfied with life. I envy them, he thought. In his case even a great victory did not bring an end to worry. Things were still quite dangerous on Garth. Perhaps even more so than two nights ago, when fate and coincidence intervened to surprise them all.
Life was troubling sometimes. All the time.
Robert returned his attention to his datawell and the letter the Uplift Institute officials had relayed to him only an hour before.
…Of course it’s very hard for an old women — especially one who, like me, has grown so used to having her own way — but I know I must acknowledge how mistaken I was about my own son. I have wronged you, and for that I am sorry.
In my own defense I can only say that outward appearances can be misleading, and you were outwardly such an aggravating boy. I suppose I should have had the sense to see underneath, to the strength you have shown during these months of crisis. But that just never occurred to me. Perhaps I was afraid of examining my own feelings too closely.
In any event, we’ll have much time to talk about this after peace comes. Let’s let it go now by saying that I am very proud of you. Your country and your clan owe you much, as does your grateful mother.
With affection,
How odd, Robert thought, that after so many years despairing of ever winning her approval, now he had it, and didn’t know how to deal with it. Ironically, he felt sympathy for his mother; it was obviously so very difficult for her to say these things at all. He made allowances for the cool tone of the words themselves.
All Garth saw Megan Oneagle as a gracious lady and fair administrator. Only her wandering husbands and Robert himself knew the other side, the one so utterly terrified by permanent obligation and issues of private loyalty. This was the first time in all his life that Robert recalled her apologizing for something really important, something involving family and intense emotions.
Blurring of vision made him close his eyes. Robert blamed the symptoms on the fringing fields of a lifting starship, whose keening engines could be heard all the way from the spaceport. He wiped his cheeks and watched the great liner — silvery and almost angelic in its serene beauty — rise and pass overhead on its leisurely way out to space and beyond.
“One more batch of fleeing rats,” he murmured.
Uthacalthing did not bother turning to look. He lay back on his elbows watching the gray waters. “The Galactic visitors have already had more entertainment than they bargained for, Robert. That Uplift Ceremony was plenty. To most of them, the prospect of a space battle and siege are much less enticing.”
“One of each has been quite enough for me,” Fiben Bolger added without opening his eyes. He lay a little downslope, his head on Gailet Jones’s lap. For the moment, she also had little to say, but concentrated on removing a few tangles from his fur, careful of his still livid black and blue bruises. Meanwhile, Jo-Jo groomed one of Fiben’s legs.
Well, he’s earned it, Robert thought. Although the Uplift Ceremony had been preempted by the gorillas, the test scores handed down by the Institute still held. If humanity managed to get out of its present troubles and could afford the expense of a new ceremony, two rustic colonials from Garth would lead the next procession ahead of all the sophisticated chims of Terra. Though Fiben himself seemed uninterested in the honor, Robert was proud of his friend.
A female chim wearing a simple frock approached up the trail. She bowed languidly in a brief nod to Uthacalthing and Robert. “Who wants the latest news?” Michaela Noddings asked.
“Not me!” Fiben grumped. “Tell th’ Universe t’go f—”
“Fiben,” Gailet chided gently. She looked up at Michaela. “I want to hear it.”
The chimmie sat and began working on Fiben’s other shoulder. Mollified, he closed his eyes again.
“Kault has heard from his people,” Michaela said. “The Thennanin are on their way here.”
“Already.” Robert whistled. “They aren’t wasting any time, are they?”
Michaela shook her head. “Kault’s folk have already contacted the Terragens Council to negotiate purchase of the fallow gorilla genetic base and to hire Earth experts as consul…”
! .,.::*: the Council holds out for a good price.”
“Hcj;gars can’t be choosers,” Gailet suggested. “According to some of the departing Galactic observers, Earth is in pretty desperate straits, as are the Tymbrimi. If this deal means we lose the Thennanin as enemies, and maybe win them as allies instead, it could be vital.”
At the price of losing gorillas — our cousins — as clients of our own. Robert mulled. On the night of the ceremony he had only seen the hilarious irony of it all, sharing that Tymbrimi way of viewing things with Uthacalthing. Now, though, it was harder not to count the cost in serious terms.