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with each flare gamma-ray lasers shone through hull and walls and
flesh and bone. Tiny spacecraft had spread from the enemy, and
now they hurled missiles to trample him. Tinier missiles leaped from
Message Bearer to intercept. That ship comes closer.
"Dawson! Will they trample us as the Shuttle did?"
"Herdmaster, my people will do what they can to make you
extinct. This is the cost of the Foot."
That is no surprise. He would say that in any case, for
strength in negotiation. "Defensemaster."
"Lead me."
"Maintain maximum thrust."
For a moment Tantarent-fid hesitated. "As you will."
"Takpusseh-yamp."
"Lead me."
"You will assist. We must send messages to..." he struggled
with the alien name, "to the United States. Dawson will assist."
Humans in Africa had given them six possible loci for 1
surviving government of that fithp. They would all be the target of
tightbeams. Now I must know what to say.
The Herdmaster changed channels. He could have leaned out
the corridor and spoken to Takpusseh-yamp, but he didn't want
Dawson to hear. The rogue human's thoughts had begun to
matter.
"Breaker-Two, do you now have a. . . what you called--"
"I have prepared two versions of a negotiated loss of status
Herdmaster, though I'm sorry to hear you ask. Here, channel 4."
The Herdmaster read. I must. That thing will catch us. We
might destroy it when it comes near, but it will send fire and gamma
rays regardless. Our mates and our children are at ransom here
and what Breaker-Two suggests is acceptable. The dissidents
should be joyful. "Maintain this channel." He motioned to the warn
who led the human forward.
"Wes Dawson, I wish to negotiate a loss of status."
"I don't understand."
"Takpusseh-yamp?"
"The Herdmaster wishes to offer conditional surrender."
The air went out of Dawson. In full thrust he might have
collapsed. He said, "Speak more."
"You shall have Winterhome -- Earth. We shall have the solar
system."
"Why do you offer this now?"
"You see the screens. Your ship approaches. It can harm us. I
would avoid that harm -- but, Dawson, your fithp have no other
ship, for if they had, they would have sent it. That ship can't
destroy us. It can only harm us, kill females and children. I want to
avoid that."
"I wish to think of this."
Dawson's eyes strayed to the screens. Message Bearer had
been ripped; the edges of the hole still glowed red and orange.
Sun-hot plasma must have roared down the corridors. Against the
dark back of Winterhome, a light pulsed. Smaller flames came near,
and flared green.
The ship rang to the tune of another explosion. Missiles
exploding against the hull made a muffled thump you could hardly
hear. But when a missile went off in the scar the Shuttle had left, it
was different. Vibrations came from everywhere, with a sound like -
that of a smashed banjo.
"Dawson, you act now or not at all."
"I won't send your message."
A communications console buzzed. Pastempeh-keph gestured
to the Breaker to answer. Not now! "Dawson, this is what you
offered Fathisteh-tulk! We will depart Africa, all of the Traveler Fithp
and the humans who wish to join us. We will follow the paths we
both know, reaping the riches of space, trading your soil grown
products for metals and--"
Dawson dare to interrupt. "Fathisteh-tulk knew me. I see that
now. I want the solar system. If I'm crazy, that's partly your
doing."
"You are mad indeed. When we have destroyed the intruder,
we will visit Winterhome with destruction. That ship was built under
the sign of peace. Never again will we honor that. We will trample
every place, large or small, that ever displayed that sign."
Dawson said nothing.
As I thought.
Takpusseh-yamp was finished with his call. He looked smug. It
is his thuktun. He deserves one last play. "Breaker-Two. Speak to
this rogue."
Takpusseh-yamp turned. "Dawson! We have captured your
mate. Paykurtank, the priest's acolyte, found her after she left an
air duct."
"My mate is on earth," Dawson said.
"Untrue. We know she is your mate because we watched you
mating in the ducts."
Dawson flushed. "So? We watched you mating in your rooms."
"We do not speak to amuse ourselves, Dawson! You pretend
to be a rogue, but you have a mate. A fi's mate is clearly
responsible for him! Your pretense is done."
"Hell. If we'd known. . . wait a minute. You captured Alice?"
The Herdmaster was in a towering fury. "I would kill you this
instant, Dawson, did you not represent your fithp in council. Will
you transmit our terms and let your ... Breaker-Two?"
"Your President. Dawson, your President surely has the rig to
hear such an offer."
Dawson said nothing.
I have him!
"You have a point," Dawson said. "But ... you had to capture
Alice? She was loose! They're all loose, aren't they? Where?"
"We will leave your world to heal," the Herdmaster pressed. He
had not really believed this would work. Negotiated loss status,
indeed! "There will be none of us on Earth, but there will be humans
among our fithp. Surely your flthp and ours can survive alongside
one another," he said, not believing a word of it. "Humans will travel
as passengers in our ships. From us you will eventually learn to
build your own." But the losing fithp become part of the winner's. It
had never been different.
Dawson's objection fell very wide of tradition. "Let you leave,
huh? And go to Saturn, and repair your ship? And what then?"
"Then. . . I don't understand. Breaker-Two?" Takpusseh-yamp
said, "We fail to taste your problem." "What's to stop you from
coming back with another Foot?" "Our surrender, you brain-
damaged rogue!"
"Are you telling me that a negotiated..." Dawson fell silent.
Now what stops him? Ah. The red-haired female had reached
the bridge. The frail human was nested in Paykurtank's digits. She'd
been hurt; she was hugging her right foreleg. She writhed at the
sight of her mate.
"Wes! The Russians are loose. I killed a snout!"
"Good! Alice, we're hurting them, we really are. The
Herdmaster wants me to transmit a conditional surrender. Trouble
is we can't trust it."
Alice looked from Dawson to the array of screens.
A female. We know too little. Will she be able to hold him calm?
What counsel will she give? Was it an error to bring her here?
The Herdmaster listened as Dawson explained to Alice. Her
alien face was unreadable, but the Herdmaster could guess at the
bloodthirsty joy as she watched the sparkling intruder come near.
When Dawson finished speaking, she said, "They'll come back."
"Yeah. Herdmaster, Takpusseh, have you been trying to tell
me that a 'negotiated loss of status' is the same as a surrender?"
The Herdmaster couldn't speak. Takpusseh-yamp said, "We
give our surrender forever. You know us that well."
"I have not been offered a surrender," Dawson said.
"What is it you want?" But the Herdmaster knew, and he was
trumpeting in agony now. "Wish you my chest under your foot?
You shall not have that!"
And every fi' in earshot was staring at him. "Fight your ship!"
he trumpeted. "This battle is not concluded! We waste time. Kill
that enemy. Signal the moon base. Trample that planet until its
leaders roll on their backs. Dawson, we do not kill without reason.
You have given us reason enough!"
"Hey, wait--"
"If we wait, that ship will harm us. When it is close enough, we
kill it. Then there will be nothing to discuss. Speak to your
President, or return to your cell."
"Your offer isn't good enough!"
"I have made my last offer. Choose."
If man and fi' had anything in common, then Dawson was in
agony. The muscles of his face looked like digits in knots. His teeth
were bared; they ground together.
The female ruined it. "Wes! Look!"
"My God!"
"Your--" Predecessor? But Dawson and Alice were gaping past
the Herdmaster's shoulder. The Herdmaster turned. Four screens
showed four views of the engine room. The floor was awash in
blood. The air itself was pink with spray. Nine corpses lay chewed as
if by predators: eight fithp warriors and the legless Soviet in his [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]