Conquerors' Heritage Page 21

  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. "Twomillion?"

  "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 yourfsss organ from your family shrine and deliver it here to you. Where you may do with it whatever you choose."

  For a long beat Thrr-pifix-a stared at him, replaying that sentence over and over again in her mind. "You're not serious," she said at last. "You mean...steal myfsss organ?"

  "Why not?" Dornt shrugged. "You tried to do the same thing just three fullarcs ago, didn't you?"

  "Yes, but that was me," Thrr-pifix-a said. "My risk, for my gain. I can't ask you to commit such a crime for me."

  "You don't have to ask," Dornt said. "We're volunteering."

  "Besides, you prejudice yourself when you use the wordsteal," Korthe added. "In actual fact yourfsss was stolen fromyou, back when you were ten. It doesn't belong to the Kee'rr clan or the Thrr family. It belongs to you."

  Thrr-pifix-a felt her tail twitching nervously. The same argument-many of the same words, in fact-that she'd used in trying to persuade Thrr-gilag to her point of view a few fullarcs ago. But to hear it being argued in her own home by total strangers was more than a little disconcerting. "What about the risks?" she asked. "I'm sorry to keep coming back to this, but you're talking about committing a major crime here. And for no gain for yourselves."

  "On the contrary," Korthe said. "We stand to gain a great deal: an incredible measure of freedom for all Zhirrzh. The family and clan leaders know perfectly well what they're doing-why else would they have such heavy guard around the shrines? It's the common people who don't know or don't understand what's been done to them. Every time we of FoDfA take action like this, we're injecting another tiny bit of awareness into Zhirrzh culture. Eventually, we'll prevail... and then we all win."

  Thrr-pifix-a nodded slowly. It still felt odd. All of it did. But they were here, and they were offering their help.

  And it was for certain that she would never be able to do it on her own. "How would you go about it?" she asked. "How exactly, I mean."

  "That's nothing you need to worry about," Dornt soothed her. "We'll handle all the details."

  "No, that's not what I meant," Thrr-pifix-a said, flicking her tongue in a negative. "I meant would you have to hurt anyone to do it. Because I wouldn't be able to accept that. The chief protector at our shrine, Thrr-tulkoj, is a personal friend of my son's-"

  "Now, what did Dornt just say?" Korthe said, his tone mildly reproving. "Didn't he say you didn't need to worry about such things?"

  "I'll worry about whatever I choose to worry about, thank you," Thrr-pifix-a snapped. "And unless you can promise me right now that there'll be no danger to the shrine's protectors, you can just pack up and leave."

  "Please," Korthe said, holding up a hand. "Thrr-pifix-a; please. We understand your concerns, but you protest far more than necessary. Of course we'll guarantee that no one will be hurt. Our whole philosophy of respect for the rights and dignity of individual Zhirrzh would be meaningless if we didn't."

  "If you're assured of nothing else this postmidarc, be assured of that," Dornt added earnestly. "When we bring yourfsss to you, it will not be at any cost to anyone else."

  "I'll hold you to that," Thrr-pifix-a warned.

  "Of course," Korthe said. "Then it's decided."

  And suddenly Thrr-pifix-a realized that it was. Somehow, without her making a real conscious decision, it was indeed decided. "All right," she said, hearing the defiance of uncertainty in her voice. "Yes. It's decided. When?"

  "Next latearc," Korthe said, gesturing to Dornt and standing up. "We can let ourselves out."

  "Wait a beat," Thrr-pifix-a frowned as Dornt also stood."Next latearc? As in just over a fullarc from right now?"

  "I see no advantage in waiting," Korthe said. "Do you?"

  "Well... no. No, I suppose not," Thrr-pifix-a conceded reluctantly. "It just seems so sudden."

  "Suddenness is a great ally," Dornt said. "Especially against the sluggishness of a layered leadership structure."

  "But I was just caught trying to take it myself," Thrr-pifix-a pointed out. "Won't they be expecting me to try again?"

  "They might be expecting you," Dornt said, smiling faintly. "They certainly won't be expecting us."

  Thrr-pifix-a swallowed. "And no one will be hurt?"

  "There will be no need for violence of any sort," Dornt said quietly. "Trust us on that. We have many methods, and many contacts."

  "It'll be all right, Thrr-pifix-a," Korthe added. "Really it will. Please try not to worry. We'll be back before you know it."

  His face turned serious. "And then your future will be in your hands, and in your hands alone. As it should be."

  They left... and for a long time after the door closed behind them, Thrr-pifix-a just sat there in her small conversation room. Wondering if her decision, so quickly and strangely made, had been the right one.
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  And wondering, too, at the sudden uneasiness simmering inside her.

  16

  The end of the wave front disappeared behind the massive sea rock that sat fifty strides out into the ocean, its base lapped by the white-tinged blue-green water. For a beat nothing happened; then, abruptly, the edge of the rock seemed to explode into a burst of white froth as the wave smashed into it. The wind caught the froth, curving it partway around the rock, changing grayish stone to black where it hit. The froth itself turned into a fan of rivulets and tiny impromptu waterfalls as the water ran down the rock and returned to the sea.

  Thrr-gilag took a deep breath, savoring the sharp-salty air as he gazed past the sea rock and tried to guess which of those incoming lines of white-capped wave fronts would be the next spectacular splash. And tried not to think of what might be happening, without him, back there in the Klnn family hall.

  "Composing poetry?" a familiar voice called from behind him.

  Thrr-gilag turned. Dressed in full formal Klnn family attire, Klnn-dawan-a's brother Klnn-torun was making his careful and precise way across the last few strides of rock-strewn beach that separated them. "What makes you think I'd be composing poetry?" Thrr-gilag called back over the roar of the waves.

  "I thought you were the sort of person who might do that sort of thing," Klnn-torun said. "Especially standing here looking out at the ocean."

  "Typical Klnn smugness," Thrr-gilag said. "What makes you think the hills and streams of the Thrr family territory can't compare with this puny ocean of yours?"

  Klnn-torun frowned slightly. "Can they?"

  Thrr-gilag smiled, flicking his tongue in a negative. "Not a chance."

  "Ah." Klnn-torun's face cleared. "I didn't think so. You had me worried, though."

  Thrr-gilag looked back at the sea rock, just in time to catch a minor wave splash at its edge. "How about you?" he asked. "You ever write poetry about the ocean?"

  "Not really," Klnn-torun said. "I tried a few times, back when I was younger. But I could never come up with anything that sounded any good. I guess my mind just doesn't work that way."

  Thrr-gilag shrugged. "To tell you the truth, neither does mine."

  "Oh, come on." Klnn-torun frowned. "What about those three poems you wrote for Klnn-dawan-a right after you two met?"

  Thrr-gilag eyed him suspiciously. "She didn't let you see those, did she?"

  "Oh, no, she just read me some of the highlights," Klnn-torun assured him. "Really, I thought they were very good. Smooth and quite poetic."

  "I'm glad I fooled you," Thrr-gilag said, snorting gently. "Truth is, I sweated blood over those things and still never really got them the way I wanted. I'm just glad they caught her attention before I had to write too many more of them. I'm still half-convinced she started seeing me out of sheer pity."

  "Hardly," Klnn-torun said with a faint smile. "No, she was most impressed by them. And by you, too, of course."

  "Not half as impressed as I was of her," Thrr-gilag murmured, looking over his shoulder. The Klnn family meeting hall towered back there behind him, its rock-faced walls blending almost seamlessly with the bluff on which it had been built. Klnn-dawan-a was up there right now, standing before the family and clan leaders. Trying to win them over the way she had won over her brother and parents.

  And trying to do so all alone. They hadn't allowed Thrr-gilag in; nor had they allowed Klnn-torun or her parents or any of her closest friends to stand with her. There was nothing any of them could do but sit in the waiting gallery or wander around outside, wondering what was happening in the chambers and waiting for the family leaders to summon them back in. The whole stupid, outdated single-trial procedure-

  "I heard about your father's being raised to Eldership half a cyclic ago," Klnn-torun said. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to attend his welcoming ceremony. We were right in the middle of a sudden influx of shahbba beetles, and we needed everyone we had to drive them off."

  "That's all right," Thrr-gilag said, feeling a fresh twist of old guilt. "As it happens, I didn't make it, either. I was out on an archaeology dig when it happened, and with our extremely limited transportation arrangements I just wasn't able to get back."

  "Yes, Klnn-dawan-a once missed an uncle's ceremony the same way," Klnn-torun said. "How's Thrr't-rokik adapting to life as an Elder?"

  "Reasonably well, I think," Thrr-gilag said. He nodded toward the ocean. "Though his biggest goal these fullarcs seems to be to try to get a shrine set up near the Amt'bri River so that he can hear running water. Imagine what he'd want if he saw this."

  "I don't have to imagine," Klnn-torun said grimly. "The Dhaa'rr leaders are already up to their tongues in demands to allow cutting pyramids along the seashore."

  "Really," Thrr-gilag said, looking around. Aside from the Klnn family hall, there were only a handful of other buildings visible. "I guess I'm surprised it isn't a solid wall of shrines already."

  "Actually, you'd never get shrines themselves put up here," Klnn-torun told him. "Salt air has always been considered too dangerous tofsss organs for anyone to risk putting an actual shrine near the shore."

  "Ah," Thrr-gilag said, nodding his understanding. "But that's not such a problem when all you're dealing with is cuttings."

  "Right," Klnn-torun said. "And the more this cutting idea has caught on, the louder the demands have become."

  Thrr-gilag looked back at the ocean. "Well, at least here on Dharanv you have a whole planet's worth of territory to spread out over. Those of us whose clan centers are still crammed together on Oaccanv don't have that same advantage."

  "Maybe," Klnn-torun said. "But even here it's not as easy as you might think. All the most popular and spectacular sites are already owned, either by families or individuals. Many of the spots have been extensively developed."

  "And none of the owners want bored Elders hanging around looking over their shoulders."

  "You got it." Klnn-torun stroked pensively at the side of his face. "You know, Thrr-gilag, to be perfectly honest, I'm beginning to worry about all this. Starting to wonder if things may be getting out of hand."

  "How so?"

  "Well..." Klnn-torun hesitated. "Have you ever studied Zhirrzh history? Really studied it, I mean?"

  Thrr-gilag shrugged. "I had the usual courses, plus a few," he said. "Nothing extensive."

  "I studied it quite a bit," Klnn-torun said. "Especially the Eldership wars."

  "Really." Thrr-gilag eyed him. "I wouldn't have thought of you as the warfare-studying type."

  Klnn-torun shrugged. "Just because I try to avoid conflict in my own dealings doesn't mean I shouldn't be interested in reading about it. In fact, I'd venture to say that a desire to avoid conflict would give a Zhirrzh an extra incentive to learn about its causes."

  "And logically so," Thrr-gilag agreed. "So what cause of conflict from history are we talking about here?"

  Klnn-torun looked back up at the Klnn-family hall. "Are you aware that it was exactly this same competition between Elders and physicals for territory that sparked the Third Eldership War?"

  Thrr-gilag frowned, thinking back to his own history courses. "Well... it wasn'texactly the same situation. For one thing, we were all stuck on Oaccanv back then. Now we've got seventeen other worlds to spread out on."

  "Which I presume is the main reason it's taken us five hundred cyclics to reach this point again instead of the three hundred we got between the Second and Third Wars," Klnn-torun pointed out. "But there's another factor now that's been added into the mix. Back then people were much more used to having Elders around them all the time, their presence woven into the fabric of their lives. Now, suddenly, our culture seems to be obsessed with privacy and solitude-obsessed to the point of hostility, sometimes. We don't want anyone too close to us; we especially don't want Elders close to us. There's increasing pressure to put shrines and cutting pyramids way out somewhere where they can't reach cities or even major towns. At least on Dharanv the areas that are inaccessible to
Elders are being developed at a tremendous rate. It doesn't make any sense."

  "Actually, it does," Thrr-gilag said thoughtfully. "What you're seeing here is an underlying cultural shift. Five hundred cyclics ago people generally stayed their whole lives in one spot, with the only Elders around being those from their own family. Familiar, friendly, comfortable. Now, with all this cross-territory and interstellar mobility we've picked up over the past hundred cyclics or so, you can never know who's nearby or who might be watching over your shoulder. That makes people nervous. People who are nervous long enough often start getting hostile and resentful."

  "You're right," Klnn-torun said thoughtfully. "I hadn't thought about that."

  "Well, I've had a little more training in all this cultural stuff," Thrr-gilag told him. "Plus the fact that I live that way myself more than you do. Living and working with your family's old orchards, you're much more connected to the way Zhirrzh culture used to be."