Beholder's Eye (45 page)

An irregular line of red appeared, spreading to encompass a vast sweep along the far side from me. “The Fringe, with Tly—” this a spleenlike shape, one tip wrapped within a coil of the Confederacy, the rest extending almost to the Fringe along its longest side, “Inhaven and her so-called colonies,” a smattering of purple nestled against Tly space, filling the space between it and the Fringe, “Garson’s World,” a glowing white dot tucked down and below Tly and Inhaven. A dot without life.

To safely travel from Garson’s World to their ally, Inhaven, or any of her colonies, the refugees our Enemy had attacked would have to take the long way around. Tly space would be closed to them. The Confederacy too risky. The blockade was something they’d likely planned to deal with when they arrived in Inhaven territory. I thought it probable they’d be allowed through without incident. The destruction of Garson’s World had been as much a shock to the Tly people as it had been to any outside observers.

The convoy had passed close to Artos.
No help for them there.
“The Commonwealth?” I asked Skalet softly, forgetting where I was at the moment. She hesitated, then understood what I was thinking and added that political and economic unit to the map.

It wouldn’t all fit, of course. The Commonwealth was immense, stretching back from the bulge encompassing the Confederacy to the limits of Skalet’s image, a span made from thousands of worlds, hundreds of species, dozens of minor groupings and territories. It was an alliance at once impressive and safely ineffective. The Commonwealth didn’t exist as a government as the Confederacy was to its worlds; instead, it was an agreement to peaceful commerce and exploration. As I studied the map, it dawned on me that the ephemerals had created a web of their own, a concept I’d never considered before. A shame such agreements never seemed to last more than a few of their short lifespans.

However, my point was taken by the Kraal. “The refugees followed the Commonwealth boundary,” Longins noted. “The B.W. joined them somewhere past the Jeopardy Nebula.”

Skalet overlaid the route of our Enemy, as best we knew it. “It’s been steering clear of the uninhabited regions. Was this avoidance deliberate, or has it been following the shipping lanes?”

“Both,” I suggested, thinking of its appetite.

“So where will it go now?”

Skalet toned down the political map to barely visible pastels. She was right, I thought, since our Enemy didn’t care for such markers either. Instead, she emphasized shipping patterns and inhabited worlds.

There were perhaps three directions it might take from Artos, depending on how seriously it took the pursuit of the
Rigus
—and how long that pursuit lasted. Translight travel had to cost it, a toll I assumed our Enemy would collect from any intelligent life it encountered. So any of those three routes would suit its needs. My stomach churned as though I were Lanivarian again.

One route intersected the fanlike spread of drones Skalet had launched days earlier. I was impressed by her foresight. Another led straight to the nearest curve of Kraal space, surely another lure to the creature as it hunted Skalet. The third lay toward Artos, its probable next target.

Except that Ansky was no longer there. And the
Rigus
was in the way.

“Excellent. It will come to us. We should be able to sit here and wait,” Skalet concluded triumphantly. I wrapped my fingers around my hoobit and looked steadily at the last of my web-sisters, wondering if I would ever understand how she could be so delighted to be the bait in a trap.

 

Ragem had his own concerns over Skalet’s plan, concerns I saw in the grim set of his mouth when I returned to his cabin. First, though, he read over the messages for himself; somehow I’d neglected to return them to Skalet.

When he finished, he shook his head. “I don’t suppose. No. Forget it.”

I ran my fingers along Ragem’s forehead; it didn’t erase the frown etched in place. “What am I to forget, Paul-Human?” I asked.

He folded the messages and tucked them in a pocket. I supposed that meant I wasn’t going to return them to Skalet. “I just wondered if S’kal-ru still had that signaling device of mine.”

“So you could contact the
Rigus
?” I guessed. “She destroyed it the moment it was found. And I doubt she’d let either of us at the
Trium Set
’s com equipment.” The cabin was quite delightful to my Ket senses; I’d explored its furnishings thoroughly while Ragem read the messages involving his former ship. I walked over to a particularly fine picture frame and stroked it. The painting within was done partially in colors I couldn’t detect with this form; what I could see suggested a portrait. Or it could have been a bowl of fruit.

“Why do you want to contact the
Rigus
now?” I asked almost casually, though I felt nothing of the kind. “To tell Kearn the true nature of his monster?”

“Of course not!” Ragem snapped angrily, then made an effort to calm himself, rubbing a hand over his face and speaking more evenly. “Esen, if the
Rigus
follows that thing, she’s going to blunder right into the Kraal fleet and its ambush. Don’t you think the crew should be warned? They could help, damn it!”

He had a point.
“Skalet knows all this, Paul-Human,” I answered slowly. “She prefers to deal with the quantities she knows and can control. This fleet of hers may be small, five cruisers and this warship, but it is the best the Kraal have. If all goes to plan, our Enemy will be overwhelmed before the
Rigus
is even aware its prey has vanished from its scopes.”

Ragem rose from his chair and came to look up at me. I wasn’t surprised when he lifted his good hand to my shoulder; he was becoming distressingly physical lately. “Esen, is part of her plan to destroy the
Rigus
?” he demanded, stretching so he could look me right in the eyes.

I felt threatened both by the Human’s posture and his dreadful suspicion.
Skalet planning to take the
Rigus
as well as our Enemy?
“Why would—?”

“It’s an effective way to deal with Kearn, isn’t it? How far would she go to protect your secrets?”

“No!” I protested, but found myself frozen in his light grip, forced to think by the passion in those gray, alien eyes.
Ersh. How well did I know Skalet, after all?
Most of my sharings with Skalet had been through Ersh; she’d always decided what I was to assimilate and what I was to learn the ephemeral way.
Was Skalet capable of murder?

I wasn’t. Ansky, Lesy, and Mixs—I believed not.
Ersh? I knew she was.
But Skalet? She’d assimilated the same purpose from Ersh, lived by the same Rules, all intended to protect and preserve intelligent life.
And hide the existence of the Web,
I added. Why at this moment did I see her, not as Web, but as Kraal, her face lit by the colors of war from her imager, eyes intent above the tattoos marking her willingness to battle for the rights of clan and family? Why did I hear her threat against Ragem?

Ragem sensed my growing doubts. He added to them: “Self-preservation, Esen. Every living thing seeks to protect itself. And she sees Kearn as a threat. What will she do when the
Rigus
wanders in range of her weapons? Tell me you don’t think she’ll fire.”

“We revere life,” I said, feeling my grasp on this form weakening and raising my temperature at once. “We cannot kill—”

“You can’t,” he countered, giving me a gentle shake. “What I’ve seen of S’kal-ru says she can and will. We have to warn the
Rigus,
Es.”

“No,” I said, my voice seeming to belong to someone else.

I’d disappointed him. “But—”

“She won’t let us,” I interrupted, certain I now contemplated such a betrayal Ersh would excise me from whatever was left of the Web.
So be it.
I knew what was right.

“We have to stop Skalet’s ambush, Paul,” I continued, my voice strange and grim in my own ears. “Before it’s too late. We have to think of a way to sabotage her plan.”

I should have remembered who was supposed to teach me subterfuge.

“TELL me you aren’t planning to attack the
Rigus.
”

“I’m not planning to attack the
Rigus,
” Skalet said promptly, “Satisfied? Why should I?” she continued reasonably. “Not only would it upset the Commonwealth, who would rumble about economic sanctions and doubtless cost my affiliates substantial funds, but it wouldn’t accomplish anything.”

“You’d get rid of Kearn. He’s the one chasing us.”

“He’s hardly the first, ’tween.” She enjoyed surprising me; I could tell by the curve of her lips under the visor of her helmet. “Did you think we could live all these centuries among such curious beings and never be suspected until you blundered with this Human? If we’d killed them all, it would only have made matters worse. No, there are better ways to deflate our friend out there, Esen.”

“What if I don’t believe you, Skalet?” I demanded quietly, my fingers tight on the hoobit.

My web-kin slid the straps of her battle suit up over her shoulders, bouncing in place to settle the heavy equipment. “What do you think, that you and your Human can somehow sabotage my plans? You are a pair, aren’t you? Don’t strain yourself, youngest. My gunners have explicit instructions to leave your precious ship alone,” she stopped abruptly to look at me, wide-eyed. “Unless the
Rigus
gets between us and the B.W.”

Skalet was acting like some hormone-pumped Ganthor about to defend its herd. I stood to one side as she clumped across the ruined carpet of her cabin’s main room to rummage in the closet. The battle suit almost doubled her mass and I had no intention of risking my toes under hers. Out came a selection of side arms.

“You aren’t planning a face-to-face battle,’ I said dryly. “Is this all necessary?”

“One needs to be prepared,” she replied jovially. “The troops expect their officers to set an example.”

 

Skalet’s preparations, in full force the moment the drone’s confirmation signal reached the
Trium Set,
included space suits for Ragem and myself. Had I been truly Ket, I’d have succumbed to hysterics almost immediately, since the suits provided for me to try for best fit required a choice between amputating my arms or legs; the Kraal on board, while being quite uniformly tall and slender, were also Human-proportioned to a fault.

Ragem, needing something to tear apart perhaps, set himself the task of modifying two suits into something that might afford my Ketself a moment’s protection from vacuum. He proved adept with a microblade and sealer, despite the handicap of his injured arm. The resulting cobbled-together contraption drew smiles from passing Kraal crew, but I thanked him.

“Let’s hope you don’t have to test it as Nimal-Ket,” Ragem declared morosely, snapping closed most of the fasteners on his own suit once I was in mine. I helped him put his arm back in the sling; he’d confessed to it easing the discomfort. “Those seals are temp at best.”

I hung the gloves on my belt, unwilling to cover my hands any sooner than necessary. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He glanced around. We were finally alone in the suiting room, the Kraal having left to attend their duties. “What are we going to do about the
Rigus
?”

“Skalet says she’s not planning to attack the ship,’ I told him. “Unless it gets between her and our Enemy.”

He drove a fist into his knee. “Even if we believe her, I still say we have to do something to let the
Rigus
know!”

“I’m open to suggestion, Paul-Human.”

“Madame Ket? Hom Ragem?” We looked at each other, then at the quiet, steady-eyed Kraal officer in the doorway. “I am to escort you to the bridge. S’kal-ru invites you to attend the coming battle with her.’

So much for planning,
I thought with disgust. Skalet was always one step ahead of me.

She was one step ahead of our Enemy, too, it seemed, a conclusion I drew with considerable relief.