"What else is there?"
"Cooperation," the Prime said. "Working together toward a common goal. Subordinating personal or clan preferences when necessary for the good of the whole."
Cvv-panav gestured contemptuously. "You dream in impossible ideals, Overclan Prime. You see five hundred cyclics of nonwar, and you think the Zhirrzh have changed. But we haven't. Conflict, competition, rivalry—it's all still there. Life in the eighteen worlds is still a contest to see who will dominate and who will submit. No different, really, from this war against the Human-Conquerors."
"You're wrong," the Prime said quietly. "Peaceful clan rivalry is nothing at all like the devastation of open warfare. And this war with the Human-Conquerors is not a contest of supremacy, at least not on our side. It's a battle for our survival."
Cvv-panav sniffed. "Strong words—"
"You wanted to hear about CIRCE," the Prime cut him off harshly. "Fine. Let me tell you about CIRCE."
He gave Cvv-panav all of it. Everything the Human-Conqueror prisoner Pheylan-Cavanagh had said; everything the technics had been able to draw from the alien recorder; everything Warrior Command had deduced or pieced together or speculated on.
It took ten hunbeats... and at the end Cvv-panav was as shaken as the Prime had ever seen him. "It's incredible," the Speaker breathed, his tail twitching uncontrollably. "Utterly incredible. How could such a thing exist?"
"I don't know," the Prime said. "If we knew, perhaps we'd be able to find a way to protect ourselves against it. But we don't. And we can't."
"That's why Warrior Command is driving so many different offensives," Cvv-panav murmured, gazing unseeingly into the air. "Trying to take as many Human-Conqueror worlds as possible to try to isolate the CIRCE components."
"Yes," the Prime nodded. "The price being that we've spread our forces dangerously thin. Ripe for a Human-Conqueror counteroffensive. But we have no other choice."
Abruptly, Cvv-panav's attention came back to him. "What if it's too late? Are you sure it's not already too late?"
"We're not sure at all," the Prime said grimly. "For all we know, they could be assembling CIRCE right now."
"And what happens if they do?"
The Prime looked him straight in the eye. "Then the Zhirrzh race will most probably die."
For a long beat they sat in silence. "What do you want from me?" Cvv-panav asked at last.
The Zhirrzh race will die. With an effort the Prime pushed aside the words that still echoed through his mind. It was the first time that he'd put his fear into actual, explicit words. Somehow that very act had made it all the more real. And all the more terrifying. "I want what I've always wanted," he told Cvv-panav. "The full cooperation of you and the Dhaa'rr."
"And you thought you needed that"—Cvv-panav gestured distastefully at the film still playing—"to insure my cooperation?"
"I want your cooperation," the Prime said. "Not your leadership. I trust you see the difference."
"And what if I don't agree with some aspect of how you're handling the war?"
"You're welcome to question me," the Prime said. "To discuss your point of view, either privately or in the Seating. But when my final decision is made, you will accept it. Without further argument."
"And if I don't?"
The Prime locked gazes with him. "Then I'll release the film. And you'll be destroyed."
There was another long beat of silence. "You play dangerous games, Overclan Prime," Cvv-panav said at last.
"I'm not playing games," the Prime countered. "This is real. And very serious."
"Oh, I know it's serious," Cvv-panav agreed. "You seem to be having far too much fun with it, that's all."
The Prime flicked a negative. "I'm not having fun, Speaker. I'm simply doing what has to be done."
"I wish I could believe that." Cvv-panav stood up. "Regardless, you've made your point. And you've won this round. But there will be others."
"When the war is over," the Prime warned.
22
He was getting tired of it. Not that it was painful, really, though the low-level Elderdeath emissions that usually accompanied her studies were growing more and more annoying. But it was boring. More importantly, it didn't give him any new information on the Humans or their technology. And there was so much more he needed to learn.
There was the sound of a muffled clank, transmitted by his fsss cutting: the door being opened. Cautiously, Prr't-zevisti came up to the edge of the lightworld for a look.
It was the Human commander. "Hello Doctor-Cavan-a," he said, pulling the door closed. "Any progress?"
"A little," she answered. "I think I may have isolated the (something) source for the (something) activity."
"That's good," the commander said, stepping over to her and looking down at the latest fsss sample. "Seen any more of the (something) from the (something) end?"
"I don't know," she said, looking up at his face. "I sometimes think I see something at the (something) of my eye. But when I look, there's nothing there."
"Try to (something) it down," he told her, throwing a quick look of his own around the room. Prr't-zevisti ducked down a little deeper into the grayworld, just to be on the safe side. "Try real hard. Bad enough they can (something) (something) across light (something). If they can (something) right through the walls of this room, too, it'll be just that much worse."
"Something's wrong, isn't it?" Doctor-Cavan-a asked, her voice suddenly quiet. "What?"
Prr't-zevisti heard the faint hissing sound of the commander's breath. "It's Srgent-janovetz. He and his (something) went silent last (something)."
"I hadn't heard," Doctor-Cavan-a said. "Do you think they've kill (something) him?"
"I don't know," the commander said. "We got one (something) (something) from him and sent one back. And that was all." He paused. "But what's really trouble (something) is what that (something) show (something). (Something), there was an attack on the Zhirrzh base."
Prr't-zevisti came up to the edge of the lightworld in time to see Doctor-Cavan-a's face change, her overeye hair tufts pressing toward each other. "You didn't tell me we were go (something) to attack."
"We didn't," the commander said. "That's what's so trouble (something). We didn't attack; and it doesn't make much sense for the Zhirrzh to have attack (something) themselves. Which leaves only one (something)."
"The (something)? But that's (something). They're prisoners."
"That's what we've been assume (something)," the commander said. "But we really don't know that for sure. The (something) we got show (something) them be (something) take (something) across the land (something) field. They didn't seem to be wear (something) anything like that (something) suit described in the report from your brother."
There was a beat of silence. "What was this attack like?" Doctor-Cavan-a asked.
"Our (something) angle wasn't very good," the commander said. "Near as we could tell, it seem (something) to be a series of explosions."
"Damage?"
"Again, we couldn't tell. But they all seem (something) to be locate (something) in the same general area. Why? You have an idea?"
"Not really," Doctor-Cavan-a said. "But you're right: by process of (something), it has to have been the (something) behind it. But what they're play (something) at, I can't begin to understand."
"Something (something), though," the commander said, his voice lowering in pitch. "I'd bet my (something) on that."