They didn't believe him, of course. Neither of them did. Not until they were airborne again with no sign of pursuit.
Vstii-suuv was the first to put it into words. "I don't believe it," he said, staring out the back of the transport at the Human-Conqueror aircraft, still on guard, fading into the distance behind them. "They let us go. Why in the eighteen worlds would they do a thing like that?"
"Maybe as a payback for our not slaughtering their ground warriors when we had the chance," Thrr-mezaz suggested.
"With all due respect, Commander, that's highly dangerous thinking," Qlaa-nuur growled. "These aren't civilized beings we're talking about here. They're vicious barbarian killers. Ascribing Zhirrzh-like characteristics to them will do nothing but tempt us into blocked-street thinking."
"Perhaps," Thrr-mezaz said. "Perhaps not. They have a highly advanced technology; they must have a certain degree of civilization to go along with it. And if appreciation toward an enemy is beyond them, then perhaps their commander let us go for the same reason I let his warriors go: because he wants to find out what we were doing out there. Maybe that will also induce him to let us get back inside his territory. Assuming, of course, that we're able to get a new cutting from Warrior Command."
"Or from the Dhaa'rr," Vstii-suuv murmured, his voice thoughtful.
Thrr-mezaz looked at him, frowning in mild surprise. Vstii-suuv had been decidedly hostile about the whole Prr't-zevisti cutting idea back on the climb. Yet he'd now brought the subject up on his own. And not as a prelude to an argument, either, from the tone.
And then he understood. "You saw it," he said. "Didn't you?"
"I think so," Vstii-suuv admitted. "You did, too?"
"About the same as you," Thrr-mezaz nodded. "I saw something. I'm not sure what."
"What are you talking about?" Qlaa-nuur asked. "What did you see?"
"Maybe nothing," Vstii-suuv said hesitantly. "Maybe—well, maybe Prr't-zevisti."
Qlaa-nuur looked back and forth between the two of them. "Are you sure?"
"No, we're not sure at all," Thrr-mezaz told him. "Which is why I don't want either of you telling anyone else about this. Most won't believe us; the rest will assume we're spinning the story for political reasons."
"We are going to do something, though, aren't we?" Vstii-suuv asked.
"Oh, you can bet on that," Thrr-mezaz assured him. "One way or the other, we're going to get back up there and find out what's going on."
Vstii-suuv straightened a little. "We'll be ready whenever you want us, Commander," he said, his voice brisk and professional. "You can count on us."
And he could, Thrr-mezaz realized. He really could. The reluctant warriors who'd flown up there with him—the even more reluctant and distrustful climbing companions who'd hurried down the mountain behind him under the hostile eyes of the Human-Conquerors—those two were gone. With even a hint of a possibility that Prr't-zevisti might still be alive, they had suddenly turned instead into staunch allies.
But then, the Aree'rr clan had always had a long and proud warrior tradition. And Prr't-zevisti had once been a warrior.
15
"Good postmidarc to you," the taller, slightly older of the two said. His voice matched his smile: friendly, yet serious. "We're looking for a lady named Thrr-pifix-a; Kee'rr."
"I'm she," Thrr-pifix-a said. Door-doors, probably, here to try to sell her something she didn't need at a price she couldn't afford. But that was all right. She'd already finished her garden work for this fullarc, and she always enjoyed the mental challenge of a good argument over someone's sales spiel. "And you?"
"Call me Korthe," he invited. "This is Dornt, my associate. May we come in?"
Thrr-pifix-a looked at them, the first twinges of uneasiness tugging at her. First names only, with no indication of family or even clan. Certainly not door-doors, then. Certainly not casual visitors of any sort. "I'm really rather busy—"
"It's all right," the younger Zhirrzh, Dornt, assured her. "Really. We're here to help you with your problem."
"What problem is that?"
"We'd prefer to discuss it indoors," Korthe said. "May we come in?"
Thrr-pifix-a took a careful breath. They could be robbers or undesirables of any sort; and if so, she would be foolish to let them past her doorway. But on the other side, considering her age and her isolation out here, robbers would hardly need to ask her permission to get inside. More likely, they were just some sort of religious cultists. "All right," she said, stepping aside. "The conversation room is straight ahead."
They all went in and sat down on the couches. "Now," Thrr-pifix-a said, looking between them. "What's all this about?"
"Another hunbeat, please," Dornt said, fiddling with a small device he'd pulled from a waist pouch. "We want to make sure this conversation is private. There."
Thrr-pifix-a frowned, straining to hear. There was a new sound in the room, one that her failing ear slits could just barely pick up. A sort of high-pitched humming sound.
"Excellent," Korthe said, his earlier smile completely submerged in seriousness now. "We know you're busy, Thrr-pifix-a, so with your permission we'll get directly to business. Have you ever heard of an organization called Freedom of Decision for All?"
She'd called it, all right: religious cultists. "No, I don't believe I have."
"I'm not really surprised," Korthe said. "We're still fairly new to this area of Oaccanv. And certainly the various clan and family leaders who do know about us are working hard to keep us quiet. Very simply, FoDfA is composed of people who, just like you, believe strongly that each and every Zhirrzh should have the right to choose whether or not to accept Eldership."
Thrr-pifix-a frowned at him. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"
"You heard correctly," Korthe said. "We believe Eldership should be your own personal choice. No one else's."
Thrr-pifix-a took a deep breath, a rush of surprise and an odd sense of relief flooding through her. So she wasn't alone in this. Thrr-tulkoj had been right: there were indeed others who believed the same way she did. "You don't know how it feels to hear you say that," she said quietly. "I thought I was the only one."
"Hardly," Korthe said with a faint smile. "Our organization consists of over two million Zhirrzh."
Thrr-pifix-a felt her midlight pupils narrow in surprise. "Two million?"
"Two million," he confirmed. "And that doesn't count those sympathetic to our philosophy who for one reason or another don't want to join. Rest assured, Thrr-pifix-a; you have plenty of company out there."
"How else do you think we knew about you?" Korthe shrugged. "We have information sources all over the eighteen worlds."
"And," Dornt added quietly, "we stand ready to assist you in putting your choice into action."
"That's very kind of you," Thrr-pifix-a said. "And I'd certainly appreciate any help you can give me. I've tried talking to the family leaders, but the clan leaders have so far refused even to grant me a hearing—"
"Excuse me, Thrr-pifix-a," Korthe interrupted gently. "But I don't think you quite understand. Our group doesn't focus on advocacy or negotiation. We concentrate on, shall we say, more direct methods."
Thrr-pifix-a frowned, looking back and forth between them. "What do you mean?"
"You seem a straightforward person," Korthe said. "Allow me to be equally so. What we propose to do is retrieve your fsss organ from your family shrine and deliver it here to you. Where you may do with it whatever you choose."