Man-Kzin Wars XIII-ARC (44 page)

“Is this why you called me?”

“I want to pounce on it, but I’m going to need your help. I need all the information the Triumvirate has on the ship and I need an engineer once I get to it.”

“Whoa, I’d love to get my hands on a modern warship with technology one hundred years ahead of anything we’ve got in this miserable marooned colony, but the risks seem a bit too high. I’d hate to be the guy that points the Patriarchy to our doorstep.”

“I believe the risk is acceptable. I plan to fly the barge my father has set up as a useless museum piece and tow the derelict back here. Will you join me?”

“Come on, I haven’t see you in years. I don’t even know what you’re called now! And you drop this on my lap all of a sudden?”

“My provisional name is Healer-of-Hunters. I don’t have any other friends. You’re an engineer and you have poor judgment. I figured you’d leap at the chance to sink your blunt little nails into state-of-the-art technology.”

“Nice to meet you, Healer-of-Hunters. What do bushcats care about advanced technology?”

“Absolutely nothing. You can have the ship and open it up like a fresh kill.”

“So why are you so interested in this ship?”

“Do not worry about that.”

“Dishonesty comes across as stiff and unnatural on kzinti. You lack the neurological architecture to shamelessly lie.”

“I’m sorry. I was informed you worked at Harp University’s engineering department, not in neural science.” Healer’s ears rippled at his own joke and Dan imagined his tail whipping around. “Besides, I’m not lying. I’m withholding information.”

“Sarcasm? Humans are ruining a proud and unflappable species!”

“Will you help me? If not, I’ll do it alone, but the odds of success will be greatly reduced.”

“I don’t know, you’re not exactly convincing me to give up my cushy life as a researcher to go on a potentially world-devastating endeavor.”

“Remember back when we were kits and you used your monkey wiles to talk me into eating Mrs. Davis’ pug. I didn’t question you, I simply attacked. I need you to attack.”

“I remember your dad tore you up when she showed up at his mansion blubbering. Was it really worth it?”

He absently licked his lips. “Oh yes, that plump little dog was utterly delicious.”

“Alright, who am I to argue with a million years of kzinti killer instinct?”

“Can you get an audience with the Triumvirate?”

“With a name like Guthlac? I’ll be sipping tea with them by noon.”

“How much time do you need to get the information and get to Shrawl’ta?”

“Give me four hours.”

“That fast?”

“I have a very fast car.”

The bushcat abruptly cut off the transmission.

Dan’s arrowhead of a car shot around the city of Harp in a wide arch. He saw the gleaning white skyscrapers topped with radiant blue domes that tastefully hid beam cannons and rocket launchers, all pointed toward the sky. The coastal metropolis was a Byzantine sprawl of culture and commerce. Its wide and bustling walkways were lined with plants like black orchids the size of grand palms. Of the three human settlements in Angel’s Tome, Harp had become the richest and largest. It imported meat from Raoneer and exported seafood which the kzinti loved. The University of Harp had finally unraveled the captured alien technology and churned out lucrative spin-offs, like his gravcar. He circled the extravagant Triumvirate House and remembered one of its architects deliriously describing it as what the Hagia Sophia would have looked like if they’d had ultra-light building materials with the tensile strength of carbon nanotubes.

“Triumvirate House accepts your request to land. Please direct your vehicle to the south parking garage,” his onboard computer chimed.

A security officer marched him toward a private elevator. When he finally entered the massive indoor amphitheater, its grandeur floored him. The underside of the luminous blue dome displayed a high-resolution image of what Earth’s sky would have looked like on a sunny spring day. Its clarity had a charm Sheathclaws’ complex sky lacked. The vast space was empty but for three stern humans. They radiated a haughty annoyance.

He sat in a central chair surrounded by an azure, half-moon desk. Facing the three politicians, he quickly scanned them with his weak empathic powers. “Thank you for granting me the honor.”

“The Triumvirate has a tough decision to make and since you called us about this mysterious ship, we thought it natural the only native of Raoneer in Harp should partake in the discussion,” Jibunoh, the spokeswoman told him. “We might benefit from your unique input. Your heritage was also a factor, of course.”

“Thank you again, Triumvir, but there are quite a few people from Raoneer here.”

“Correction, as the only human.” She looked at the unruly specimen before her, as if she didn’t quite believe in his humanity. “What do you know of the matter at hand?”

“Only that what appears to be a damaged kzinti ship penetrated our sensor swarm not too long ago.” Dan’s mind prowled around the three heads-of-state like a predator trying to pick out the lame prey.

“A month ago, to be exact, every sensor in the system began screaming when a Patriarchy warship suddenly appeared in our system’s heliosphere. The three of us and Apex Leader of Raoneer quickly gathered to strategize and ready our defenses, but all subsequent scans show that the ship is indeed badly damaged and currently tumbling toward the sun. Ceezarr lost interest when the chance for battle became remote and returned to Shrawl’ta.”

“You attempted to communicate with it?”

“No. This meeting is precisely to determine our next step. Images of the ship indicate that it’s far more advanced than the ships our founders confronted.”

“They’ve had about a hundred years to improve.”

“Exactly. The question is, do we want those upgrades or do we let the derelict go on its way.”

“There are barbarians at the gates and you talk of trinkets?” murmured Triumvir Bhang. The woman had aged rather well, but her dark almond-shaped eyes were filled with fear. She wanted nothing to do with kzinti, local or otherwise.

“Well, the up-to-date information held in their computers would be incredibly valuable,” he said, ignoring the anxiety of the three leaders. “The fact that the ship just popped up suggests to me as an engineer that they have one of those FTLs we’ve been hearing about for the past twenty years.”

“Are you a Rejoiner, Mr. Guthlac?” Anxiety was suddenly laced with suspicion.

“I don’t subscribe to bipartisan rhetoric. I definitely understand the Separatists’ pragmatic reasons for keeping Sheathclaws hidden. We are uncomfortably close to Patriarchy space.”

The only male Triumvir in the room spoke for the first time. “For the past twenty years, we’ve been bombarded with stray radio signals announcing human victories over the Patriarchy in several wars, because of hyperdrives just like the one that has landed on our doorstep. The time is ripe to regroup with the other human worlds in Known Space!”

“We’ve all heard your arguments, Triumvir Delmar. The one flaw is the word ‘several.’ It’s only a matter of time before another war flares up and if we’ve revealed ourselves we’ll be the first planet conquered! Simply because of proximity!”

Not to mention the value of a planet full of potential kzinti telepaths,
Dan thought.

He sensed Triumvir Delmar’s unabashed interest in the ship. The other two minds of the trio were already made up. He needed to delicately appeal to Delmar. “Just because we bring in the ship doesn’t mean we’ll all hop on the next flight for Earth. The information in those computers as well as the FTL would go a long way in strengthening our defenses.”

“That is a very valid point, Mr. Guthlac,” exclaimed Delmar.

“We’re not here to discuss the theoretical capture of this crippled warship, which I have no intention of voting for,” Triumvir Bhang said, slamming the palm of her hand on the podium. “What I’m interested in is the kzinti reaction to our letting their brethren glide into the sun.”

“The kzinti of Raoneer have no love for the Patriarchy. I don’t know Ceezarr personally, but I was crèchemates with one of his sons.”

Bhang flinched at the outright inhuman term. “So you don’t believe there would be unrest among the kzinti of Sheathclaws?”

“You said so yourself, Ceezarr lost interest when reports of the ship’s state came in. I believe that’s how most kzinti and humans will react, with vast collective indifference.”

“Thank you, Mr. Guthlac for your singular insights on the matter,” said Jibunoh. He knew, in her mind, the discussion was over. “Let’s vote, shall we? All those in favor of letting this ruined craft continue unmolested raise your hand.”

Triumvirs Bhang and Jibunoh stylishly raised their hands. Triumvir Delmar simply shook his head in obvious disgust.

“Wait a minute, that’s it? You’re going to reject an enormous boon for Sheathclaws after one meeting? You’re not going to put it to a popular vote?”

“Our pronouncement may seem swift to you, Mr. Guthlac, but I assure you that we’ve been weighing the issue for a month now. As for a popular vote, you yourself said that the general public would be indifferent to the final fate of the ship.”

“Can I at least have all the information on the ship obtained from the probes? Maybe I can study those and find something useful to us.”

“Absolutely not, Mr. Guthlac. A young, intelligent man such as you could cause all manner trouble with that data. I believe it will remain safely classified.”

Delmar burst out of his chair with explosive frustration and stormed out of the meeting chamber.

Jibunoh turned to Bhang and said, “We can even spin the situation as not wanting to sully this ship out of great respect for the fallen Heroes aboard.”

Dan knew he was already dismissed.

Minutes later, no longer having access to the private elevator, he jogged up the wide marble steps leading to the garage. His mind chewed on the state-of-the-art kzinti ship. The technological treasures that were found on the ones a hundred years ago had taken eights of years for the colonists to decipher. How long would it take him to reverse-engineer this one, a lifetime?

“A word, Mr. Guthlac,” Triumvir Delmar sat on a bench near his car, watching a few leathery pteranobats languidly circle the sapphire-domed spires of Harp. Dan had known he was there.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more convincing,” Dan said in the absence of any real salutation.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, young man. We didn’t summon you to our meeting because of your Raoneer citizenship or your impressive engineering degree. We invited you because of who your grandmother was. Jibunoh and Bhang didn’t want posterity to say they made a crucial world-changing decision without consulting a Guthlac! No, you were there simply so that the record could show that you were there.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“That’s politics,” he waved a dismissing hand as if they’ve talked enough nonsense and it was time for business. “The truth is we need that ship and everyone is too afraid to go and get it.”

“I agree.” Although not about joining the rest of humanity. Not yet anyway.

“Excellent!” Delmar handed him a tablet scrolling with information and displaying a red elliptical line spiraling through their system.

“Is this the warship’s current position and its projected circuit toward our sun?”

“Correct. As the leader of Hem, I would like to extend our full support if you decide to mount an expedition to this ship. We can’t provide you with shuttles, of course; my hands are tied as you witnessed back at the House, but I can give you data and will run interference with those two.”

“If I don’t have access to a shuttle, how can I get to the ship?”

“I was hoping you could use your name and connections to Raoneer elite.”

If Dan possessed the flexible ears of a kzin, they’d be beating.
Got you.

Shrawl’ta, Raoneer

Dan tore over the hourglass-shaped landmass at a roaring mach 5. The vantage point always gave him a healthy sense of perspective. From up here, the rambling megalopolis of Harp and the adjoining green and gold agricultural fields seemed a tiny freckle on the plum-colored rain forests that dominated Angel’s Tome.

The original colonists, being severely traumatized by their hideous encounters with kzinti, decided that cohabitation would be too much for them. So the commanding personnel of
Angel’s Pencil
and
Gutting Claw
’s rogue telepath agreed to divide the large Panunguis continent between the two species: humans took the subtropical and tropical southern bulb because its fertile jungles provided excellent soil for farming and the kzinti had taken the colder, northern bulb with a wide open steppe teeming with therapsidlike creatures to hunt.

He zoomed above the volcanic mountain range of the connecting land bridge. Dan found it appropriate that the two bulbs, once separate islands, were being ground together by unhurried geological processes. After a century of mutual segregation, the two species had begun to mingle: industry, education, sport, tourism had all blurred the hard isolating line.

After a couple hours of contemplative driving, his onboard computer jolted him, “You are now crossing the border into Raoneer. Your passport has automatically been stamped. Welcome home, Daneel Guthlac.” The cool mauve tundra that hugged the open plains of Raoneer greeted him like a stern and proud father. His car spooked large herds of iguanalope and sent them racing across open territory. His pride had been part of Raoneer from the start. His grandmother, Selina Guthlac, had decided to stay with the kzinti and help build Shrawl’ta. Of course, she did her part for the human population of the planet as well, having children from the genetic stock frozen aboard
Angel’s Pencil
. She even got the ship’s geneticist to clone four kzinti kittens from the bodies salvaged from the
Tracker
, including
Tracker
’s Telepath, and raised them along with her biological children.

From the air, Shrawl’ta looked more like a colossal star fort on the shores of a great lake than a proper city. Its tall stone and steel walls surrounded the squat settlement. The highest structures were massive gun turrets emerging from each star point, and Ceezarr’s mansion, the Hall of Harmonious Dominance. The estate was the largest living space in Raoneer, a square edifice the color of sun-burnt gold rising some thirty meters above all other surrounding buildings except for the laser towers. It was the practical and ceremonial center of kzinti power on Sheathclaws. Dan had grown up in its shadow.