He slid his thumb along the sealstrip on the packet and removed a three-d photo of a wizened old N'huatl woman. "This is an Imperial agent, a servant of the Smoking Mirror. She is upon Jagan – in Parus right now – and she is hunting for you."
All four Jehanan stiffened, and while the most nervous one darted a glance at the doorways, the kurbardar picked up the photograph between two chipped claw-tips. He examined the woman's face carefully. "This asuchau has been seen by these eyes – at the feast of welcome for the Imperial hatchling. Where is she now?"
The human shrugged. "I have only lately arrived. Now you know the face of your enemy. You must strike before she can find you and drag your entire cabal before the kujen in chains." He removed a set of smaller envelopes, each heavy with clinking metal.
"I – my people – have been preparing for the moment of your liberation for some time. You have already received your shipments of missiles, kyrb' ? You have tested them?"
The kurbardar nodded. "Some failed, as your accomplice warned, but they have been destroyed and the remains hidden. The rest have been distributed to the brigades. But even with the reactivated artifacts, they will not suffice to remove the threat beyond the sky… Without that, any rising is doomed to failure. A secondFire will sweep away what we have built, leaving only savages to toil in the wreckage for the Empire."
A satisfied glint flashed in the human's watery eyes. His lips twitched into a cold smile. "Do not concern yourself with the Imperial warship. When the festival day comes, you will see a brilliant sign in the heavens and that particular obstacle will be removed."
"How?" The nervous Jehanan looked up in horror from the photograph of Itzpalicue. "What do you mean removed? What if we are not ready to rise up by Nemnahan?"
The blond man shrugged. "Then opportunity will pass you by."
"So, you force us to action – whether we are ready or not." The kurbardar's claw clasped a heavy, curved kalang blade held in his ornamental harness. He showed his teeth again. "We do not seek a new master to replace the old!"
Unimpressed by the threat, the human spread the smaller envelopes out on the table. "I – we – have been sent to give you an opportunity. If an accident befalls the light cruiser on watch-station, then, well…you can express your sincere condolences to the Resident. It is well known the ship is already damaged and in poor repair – its destruction due to an accident will not be surprising. There is nothing to implicate your little conspiracy.
"But you will have missed your chance. Years of preparation will be wasted. None of your confederates will find the will to act again." He shook one of the envelopes, making the package rattle.
"There are twelve of these envelopes – each contains an address to a location in or around Parus and a key. In each house, you will find several hundred boxes of ammunition for your small arms and machine guns. These rounds have been specially modified to defeat Imperial combat armor. A little gift from those who also hate the Empire."
"So we rise up…" The nervous little Jehanan's split tongue flicked along well-polished teeth. "And we are successful – what prevents the Empire from invading us with irresistible force? They have far more than one light cruiser to claw!"
"They do." The human nodded. Despite the continued hostility of the conspirators and the muggy atmosphere in the abandoned building, he remained genial and composed. "But the Emperor has hundreds of colonies to consider, and many, many more problems than a brief incident on one obscure – no offense, my friends – world on the periphery of his domain. Even the death of prince Tezozуmoc will not inspire him to action – the boy has been sent here to spare embarrassment at home.
"But your true allies" – the blond man's lips stretched into a wide smile – "are the factions among the appropriations board of the Colonial Service. If you are successful, then those who favor consolidation will gain influence and the 'expansionists' will lose ground."
"A fantasy!" The nervous Jehanan slammed the photograph down on the table. "Bickering among bureaucrats may delay an Imperial reaction, but it will not stop it. If we destroy the Legation, slaughter their citizens and defeat their warriors, the Empire will have to respond or lose face. Then the sky will bleed fire and we will be cast back into the savagery we've only just crawled up from!"
The other three conspirators stared wide-eyed at the little one. They had never seen him so agitated.
Humara sheathed his knife. "Where is our path then?" he asked in a slow gravelly voice, gesturing at the human. "We must do something. Even the public Imperial records show what happens to worlds like ours…slow suffocation, economic enslavement, the inevitable reduction of each kujen to a puppet good only for imposing ever higher taxes. Here, at least, we will show our mettle and challenge them. Perhaps gain a space of years to build our own orbital infrastructure, our own warships… With a little help, with access to offworld trade, we could rebuild the old yards at Sobipurй."
"A wild dream…" The nervous one scratched the line of cream-colored scales along his jaw. He glared openly at the human courier. "And again, we rely on this creature and his unseen masters to supply us with the technology and resources we need."
"An equitable trade could be arranged," the human said. "We are seeking allies, not slaves."
"Allies…" the little Jehanan hissed in disgust. "A cheap way to bleed the Empire!"
The kurbardar waved the stack of envelopes in kujen Bhrigu's face. "If you do not wish to seize the claw of opportunity, then retire to your estates! Find a more righteous path, if you can. We will do what must be done. This way we have at least a chance of victory."
The other two, who had remained silent, hooted in agreement. The human said nothing, watching the nervous prince with a placid expression.
"Yes, a chance…for the yi birds to peck your eye-sockets clean and dig their talons into your rotting entrails!" Bhrigu hopped from one foot to the other, then reached out his claw. "Very well. Give me our share. We will be ready on Nem-day."
"You will?" The kurbardar and the other two stared at the nervous one in surprise. "But -"
"He knows," Timonen interjected smoothly, retrieving the stack of envelopes and sorting them swiftly into four equal piles, "that if you do not stand together, you will each be buried separately." The blond head bowed to the little Jehanan. "Your friend here understands how to gamble."
Bhrigu flashed his teeth again, but took careful custody of the proffered keys.
"Now," the Finn said, affecting to wipe sweat from his forehead, "some small issues to consider when you attack the Imperial installations…"
All four Jehanan bent over the table and maps, eyes and ears attentive.
Within the House of Reeds Takshila
Gretchen sucked absently on her breathing tube, cheek pressed to the floor of the passageway. Dust tickled her nose and one eye was closed as she squinted into the viewer of her microscope. The lens-end of the tiny Ericsson 'scope was nosed into an almost imperceptible crack between the base of the doorway and the floor.
"No…" Anderssen turned a tiny dial with her fingers. The image expanded, swelling until she could see the pitted surface of the ceramic composite. "This seal is airtight. I think the door sets into a groove in the floor. To get an atmosphere probe inside we'll have to drill a hole."