Also, they seemed even to operate on different levels or rates of time. The hydrogen breathers preferred the slow routes, through D-Level hyperspace and even normal space between the stars — the realm where relativity ruled — leaving the quicker lanes among the stars to the fast-living heirs of the fabled Progenitors. ^
Sometimes there were conflicts. Entire systems and clans died. There were no rules to such wars.
Sometimes there was trade, metals for gases, or machinery in exchange for strange things not found even in the records of the Great Library.
There were periods when whole spiral arms would be abandoned by one civilization or the other. The Galactic Institute of Migration organized these huge movements for the oxygen breathers, every hundred million years or so. The official reason was to allow great tracts of stars to “go fallow” for an era, to give their planets time to develop new pre-sentient life. Still, the other purpose was widely known… to put space between hydrogen and oxygen life where it seemed impossible to ignore each other any longer.
And now Kault was telling him that there had been a recent negotiation right in the Poul-Kren sector? And humans had been there?
Why have I never heard of this before? he wondered.
He wanted to follow this thread, but had no opportunity. Kault was obviously unwilling to pursue it, and returned to the earlier topic of conversation.
“I still believe there is something anomalous about the Gubru transmissions, Uthacalthing. From their broadcasts itis clear that they are combing both Port Helenia and theislands, seeking out the Earthlings’ ecology and uplift experts.”
Uthacalthing decided that his curiosity could wait — a hard decision for a Tymbrimi. “Well, as I suggested earlier, perhaps the Gubru have decided to do their duty by Garth, at last.”
Kault gurgled in a tone Uthacalthing knew denoted doubt. “Even if that were so, they would require ecologists, but why Uplift specialists? I intuit that something curious is still going on,” Kault concluded. “The Gubru have been extremely agitated for several megaseconds.”
Even without their small receiver, or any news over the airwaves at all, Uthacalthing would still have known that much. It was implicit in the intermittent blue light he had been following since weeks ago. The flickering glow meant that the Tymbrimi Diplomatic Cache had to have been breached. The bait he had left inside the cairn, along with numerous other hints and clues, could only lead a sapient being to one conclusion.
It was apparent his jest on the Gubru had proved very expensive for them.
Still, all good things come to an end. By now even the Gubru must have figured out that it was all just a Tymbrimi trick. The avians weren’t exactly stupid. They had to discover sooner or later that there really weren’t any such things as “Garthlings.”
The sages say that it can be a mistake to push a joke too far. Am I making that error trying to pull the same jest on Kault?
Ah, but in this case the procedure was so totally different! Fooling Kault was turning into a much slower, more difficult, more personal task.
Anyway, what else have I to do, to pass the time?
“Do tell me more about your suspicions,” Uthacalthing said aloud to his companion. “I am very, very interested.”
56
Galactics
Against all expectation, the new Suzerain of Cost and Caution was actually scoring points. Its plumage had barely even begun to show the royal hues of candidacy, and it had started out far, far behind its peers in the competition. Nevertheless, when it danced the other Suzerains were forced to watch closely and pay heed to its well-parsed arguments.
“This effort was misguided, costly, unwise,” it chirpedand whirled in delicate rhythm. “We have spent treasure,time, and honor
seeking,
chasing,
hunting
achimera!”
The new chief bureaucrat did have a few advantages. It had been trained by its predecessor — the impressive deceased Suzerain of Cost and Caution. Also, to this conclave it had brought an equally impressive, indicting array of facts. Data cubes lay scattered across the floor. The presentation by the head civil servant had, in fact, been quite devastating.
“There is no way, no possibility, no chance that thisworld could have hidden upon it a presentient survivor ofthe Bururalli! It was a hoax, a ruse, a fiendish wolfling-and-Tymbrimi plot to get us to
waste,
squander,
throw away
our wealth!”
To the Suzerain of Propriety this was most humiliating. In fact, it was not much short of catastrophic.
During the hiatus, while a new bureaucratic candidate was being chosen, the priest and the admiral had reigned supreme, with no one to hold them in check. They had well known that it was not wise to act so, without the voice of a third peer to restrain them, but what being always acted wisely when opportunity beckoned seductively?
The admiral had gone on personal search and destroy missions in pursuit of the mountain partisans, seeking gloss to add to its personal honor. For its part, the priest had ordered expensive new works built and had rushed the delivery of a new planetary Branch Library.
It had been a lovely interregnum of two-way consensus. The Suzerain of Beam and Talon approved every purchase, and the Suzerain of Propriety blessed every foray of the Talon Soldiers. Expedition after expedition was sent into the mountains as closely guarded scientists eagerly sought out a prize beyond price.
Mistakes were made. The wolflings proved diabolical in their ambushes and animal elusiveness. And yet, there would never have been any carping about cost had they actually found what they were looking for. It all would have been worth it, if only…
But we were tricked, fooled, made fools of, the priest thought bitterly. The treasure had been a lie. And now the new Suzerain of Cost and Caution was rubbing it in for all it was worth. The bureaucrat danced a brilliant dance of chastisement of excess. Already it had dominated several points of consensus — for instance, that there would be no more useless chases into the mountains, not until a cheaper way was found to eliminate the resistance fighters.
The plumage of the Suzerain of Beam and Talon drooped miserably. The priest knew how much this must gall the admiral. But they were both held hypnotized by the righteous correctness of the Dance of Chastisement. Two could not outvote one when that one was so clearly in the right.
Now the bureaucrat had launched into a new cadence, leading into a new dance. It proposed that the new construction projects be abandoned. They had nothing to do with defending the Gubru hold upon this world. They had been begun on the assumption that these “Garthling” creatures would be found. Now it was simply pointless to continuebuilding a hyperspace shunt and a ceremonial mound!
The dance was powerful, convincing, backed up with charts and statistics and tables of figures. The Suzerain of Propriety realized that something would have to be done and done soon, or this upstart would end the day in the foremost position. It was unthinkable that such a sudden reverse of order should happen just as their bodies were starting to give them twinges preliminary to Molt!
Even leaving out the question of molt order, there was also the message from the Roost Masters to consider. The queens and princes back home were desperate in their queries. Had the Three on Garth come up with a bold new policy yet? Calculations showed that it would be important to have something original and imaginative soon, or else the initiative would pass forever to some other clan.