Judgment at Proteus (29 page)

I glanced again at Minnario, resisted the urge to also glance at the closed door behind me, and sat down in one of the guest chairs across from Hchchu. “Maybe we should start at the beginning,” I suggested.

“The beginning is with you and your tale of the Modhri,” Hchchu said, opening one of the desk’s drawers and pulling out a reader. “Here—you will need this.”

Only it wasn’t just any reader, I saw with mild surprise as I took it, but my very own reader, the fancy, gimmicked gadget that Hchchu and the Jumpsuits had taken away from me the minute I’d stepped aboard Proteus. “Thanks,” I said, turning it on and plugging in the chip. “I was telling the truth, you know.”

“Indeed I do,” Hchchu said grimly. “Rumors and stories of this Modhri have circulated for many years throughout the highest levels of the Filiaelian Assembly. Yet we have seen no evidence of penetration into our species, not even in travelers or diplomats who have spent extensive time outside our borders.”

“Actually, that makes perfect sense,” I agreed, pulling up the file.

“How so?” Hchchu asked. “If the Modhri’s goal is to control the galaxy, why leave us untouched?”

“Because he’s ambitious, but he’s not stupid,” I said, skimming the itinerary. The six Fillies had taken a Quadrail from Proteus to Venidra Carvo, boarded a super-express train for Homshil, and from there had visited three more places in the Jurian Collective. There was no mention of New Tigris, just as Hchchu had said, or of any other world, for that matter. “He knows all about the genetic work and biochemical testing you do,” I continued. “Right now, stealth and secrecy are his greatest weapons, and he’s not going to risk certain exposure by infecting a Filiaelian diplomat who’s probably going to be tested the minute he gets back home.”

“Yet if you are right, these six Filiaelians
were
infected,” Hchchu pointed out. “Why? And where?”

“I don’t know the
where
,” I said. “It could have been anywhere along the way, basically any time after they left Filiaelian space.” I gestured toward my reader. “Or possibly after this listing ends. I notice that the last stop is over two months before they showed up on New Tigris.”

“Yes, their reports stopped at that point,” Hchchu said heavily. “Their mission, if you hadn’t already guessed, was to search for evidence of this Modhri in Halkan and Jurian space. They had sent back several reports that seemed to indicate they had discovered the rumors were true, and were near to capturing a sample to bring back for study. But then the reports suddenly stopped, and all my subsequent messages to them were left unclaimed.”

“Sounds like they found him, all right,” I said. “And as to the
why
, they were infected because they were needed. There’s something in Filiaelian physiology that apparently links uniquely with the Modhran hive mind, giving him an ability he apparently can’t get from anyone else.”

“What ability is this?”

“Sorry, but I can’t tell you that,” I said. “Even if I could, I don’t understand it myself well enough to explain it.”

For a moment Hchchu sat in silence. Then, he gave a soft, whinnying sigh. “Stealth and secrecy, you say,” he murmured. “Yet they were infected, Filiaelians who would soon have returned to the Assembly. Does that mean that a new phase is about to begin? Is the Modhri finally ready to launch a full assault on the Filiaelian people?”

Briefly, I thought about telling him that there was a group of Filiaelian people who would not only welcome the Modhri’s incursion but was actively working to facilitate it. But he didn’t need that extra news dumped on him. Not yet. “I don’t know what his current plan is,” I said instead. “But aside from his existence, you know now two other important facts. One: the reason he hasn’t yet penetrated the Assembly isn’t because there’s something about Filiaelians he can’t connect with. We know now that you’re as easy a target for him as anyone else in the Twelve Empires. You may be able to spot him, but only after the fact.”

“And the second thing?”

“That you’re not only vulnerable, but also uniquely useful. But that also means he’s not going to try a full assault on the Assembly until he’s damn sure he’s ready.”

“Yes,” Hchchu murmured. “Something else strikes my thoughts. If the Modhri is wary of allowing himself to come under Filiaelian scrutiny, it follows that, no matter what happened on New Tigris, the six
santras
would not have been permitted to return to Proteus alive.”

I winced. That one hadn’t yet occurred to me. “Which probably explains what happened to the two that I know were taken alive,” I said. “They were undoubtedly killed in custody by their polyp colonies to make sure you never got a chance to properly examine them.”

“Indeed.” Hchchu peered suddenly at me. “How exactly do
you
fit into all this, Mr. Compton?”

“I’m just a simple Human who got caught up in the whole thing and is trying to make a difference,” I said, more or less truthfully. “Along the way I’ve run into a few others who recognize the Modhran threat and are working to stop him.”

“No.” Hchchu shook his head. “I have been studying you, Mr. Frank Compton, learning all I can about you.” He pointed at my reader. “That device, for instance, is more than it appears. No, you are not simply a lone, isolated soldier in this war. You also are more than you appear.”

I felt my stomach tighten. I knew how special I was, the Modhri and Shonkla-raa knew, and now Hchchu had figured it out as well. I might as well take out a full-page ad and paint a bull’s-eye on my back. “I’m flattered that you think that,” I said. “But in reality—”

{
There
you are,} a familiar voice growled from behind me.

I turned around, to see Wandek standing in the open doorway glowering at Hchchu. {I’ve been looking all over for you,} he continued, pushing the door closed behind him and striding across the room toward us.

{Is there a problem?} Hchchu asked, sounding confused.

{Indeed there is,} Wandek said. He strode past Minnario and continued around the end of the desk.

And without warning, he swept his right hand outward, catching Minnario with a backhanded blow across the Nemut’s conical mouth. The force of the impact spun him and his chair a quarter turn around and sent him flying out onto the floor.

I was still goggling at the sheer unexpectedness of it when Wandek took another two steps to Hchchu’s side and drove his stiffened hand into the assistant director’s torso.

“Don’t,” Wandek warned, turning to face me as Hchchu collapsed without a sound onto his desk.

I was already scrambling to my feet, kicking my chair backward out of my way. A quick leap up onto the desktop, a kick to Wandek’s head or torso before he could move away—

“No, no—let him try,” another voice came from the door.

I froze, my knees still bent for my leap, and turned my head. Stalking across the room toward me were a pair of Shonkla-raa. The one in the lead, the one who had spoken, was Blue One. “Please,” he said softly, his eyes burning with hatred as he stared at me, “let him try.”

FOURTEEN

I didn’t try. At three against one, trying would be suicide, and I wasn’t yet ready to die. Slowly, I straightened up again and stood perfectly still, raising my arms slightly away from my body just to prove I knew the proper drill. The second Shonkla-raa, thinner than the others and with an unattractive, jagged-edged nose blaze, strode up to me, gave me a quick pat-down, and took away my comm and my newly reacquired reader. Stuffing them into his belt bag, he headed over to Minnario, who was sprawled unmoving on the floor, his eyes closed, blood seeping through his skin beside his snout where Wandek had hit him. Jagged Nose patted him down as he had me, then crossed to the Nemut’s chair and started unfastening the storage pouches.

“Three of you this time, huh?” I said, looking at each in turn. “Is that your typical pattern, then? First you send one of you after me, then you send two, and now three. I suppose next time it’ll be four?”

“There will be no next time,” Wandek said. He waved toward my overturned chair, a few drops of Hchchu’s blood spattering from his hand onto the desk as he did so. “Please sit down, Mr. Compton. You have nothing to fear from us. As I’m sure
Isantra
Kordiss told you, we’d prefer to keep you alive for the moment.”

He looked over at Blue One. “Though he himself may not be feeling so generous at the moment. He didn’t appreciate the way you treated him, locking him in that file cabinet.”

“I’m sorry he feels that way,” I said, looking at Kordiss. His expression was still begging me to start trouble. “But if he’s not ready to run with the big dogs, he needs to stay on the porch.”

Kordiss took a step toward me, his blaze darkening almost to black. “What does that mean?” he demanded.

“Please,” I said, putting a little condescension in my voice. It was risky, I knew, goading him like this. But Wandek had already said they wanted me alive, and getting an opponent angry was still one of the best ways to get him to make a mistake. Right now, I desperately needed one of them to make a mistake.

But if Kordiss was poised on the brink of stupidity, Wandek wasn’t. “An excellent try, Mr. Compton,” he said approvingly. “But there’s no need. You can’t possibly win a fight, certainly not against three of us. And we really
aren’t
going to kill you. Not unless you absolutely insist on it.”

I eyed Kordiss. But Wandek’s interruption had given him time to think, and already I could see the blind fury fading from his face. I flicked a glance to the side, where Doug was watching the situation with the oblivious interest of a dumb animal who hasn’t realized that the situation requires him to act outside of his official orders. Still, if I could get to him and throw him at one of the Shonkla-raa …

“And I wouldn’t count on your
msikai-dorosli
to intervene on your behalf either,” Wandek added. “I’m fairly certain
Chinzro
Hchchu ordered him to prevent you from attacking others aboard
Kuzyatru
Station, not vice versa. Is that the correct use of the term, by the way? Vice versa?”

“Close enough,” I said. Reaching down, I picked up my chair from where I’d kicked it and set it upright again. “Tech Yleli showed you weren’t shy about murder,” I said as I sat down. “I wouldn’t have guessed you’d go as far as killing the assistant director of the whole station, though.”

“Great rewards are worth great risks,” Wandek said.

{
Usantra
Wandek?} Jagged Nose spoke up. He was peering into one of Minnario’s bags, his fingers sifting through the contents. {His comm is missing.}

{You’ve checked his clothing?} Wandek asked.

{Thoroughly,} Jagged Nose confirmed. {It’s not here.}

Wandek eyed me, probably wondering if he should have the other Shonkla-raa search me again, just in case I had somehow teleported the comm out of Minnario’s pocket and into mine. But he merely shrugged. {He must have left it in his quarters,} he said. {Get to your main task.}

{As ordered.} Closing up the bags, Jagged Nose tied them to his own belt like saddlebags, then crossed to the desk. Casually shoving Hchchu’s body out of the chair onto the floor, he sat down and started typing on the desk computer. “But then, you already know the magnitude of the rewards we seek,” Wandek continued, coming around the end of the desk and settling himself on the corner facing me.

“You’ve got ambition to burn, I’ll give you that,” I said. “But if you’ll pardon the observation, your methods stink like three-day-old fish. What exactly do you think
Chinzro
Hchchu’s murder is going to gain you? Control of the station?”

Wandek gave what was probably supposed to be a chuckle. “We’ve badly overestimated your intelligence, Mr. Compton,” he said sadly. “Even now, with all you’ve learned, you still have no idea what we’re actually doing.”

“You’re probably right,” I agreed, listening to my heartbeats count off the seconds. Even as we sat here talking, Hchchu’s blood would be coagulating along the well-defined curve Emikai had told me about yesterday. If I could keep the conversation going, the patrollers and techs who investigated the murder should be able to narrow down the time of death to the exact period when Wandek and his buddies were here in the room. I didn’t know how much that would help, but it certainly couldn’t hurt. “But I imagine you’re dying to tell me.”

“As it happens, I am,” Wandek agreed. “And since we have a few minutes to spare, I’ll indulge your curiosity. Do you have any idea why the Shonkla-raa left Earth alone two thousand years ago when they were busy conquering the rest of the galaxy?”

“No, and neither do you,” I said. “That’s why you’re experimenting with all those Humans in Building Twelve.”

“In point of fact, we
do
know why,” Wandek corrected. “We also know how to correct that deficiency. That’s why we brought the Human females here, so that we could turn their babies into our future servants.”

I stared at him. “Are you saying Building Twelve is full of pregnant women?”

“Building Twelve, and two of the others,” Wandek said. “You understand now why, after your confederates disabled the cameras and we realized you would soon be arriving, I ordered
Isantra
Kordiss to kill the first likely person he could find and leave him in your path. If you’d seen the other pregnant Humans, even you couldn’t have failed to realize what it was we wanted with Ms. German.”

He waved again, a more expansive gesture this time. “You see, Mr. Compton, we of the Shonkla-raa don’t rule the way Humans or even most Filiaelians do, by way of spoken orders and written contracts. We are telepathic. Not very strongly, admittedly, but strongly enough to impress our thoughts and commands on other beings.” He lifted a bloody finger like a college professor trying to underline an important point for a dull pupil. “But only if those other beings have some telepathic ability of their own. Reception
and
transmission.”

“Like the Modhri,” I murmured.

Wandek’s face brightened. The dull pupil had gotten one. “Exactly like the Modhri,” he agreed. “Except that the Modhri is much more telepathic than most species—designed that way, of course—which gives him a higher resistance to us than other species. That’s where this”—he tapped his throat—“or rather those,” he corrected, pointing at Kordiss’s and Jagged Nose’s oversized throats, “come in.”