Judgment at Proteus (54 page)

I’d made sure to take scans of the bodies, hoping to wring out a few secrets about Shonkla-raa physiology that I could use against them. Surely the Chahwyn would want to do the same, and would thus make sure to take special care of the bodies until they could be examined.

Unless there was no need for them to study the bodies. Because they didn’t need to know how Shonkla-raa physiology differed from that of normal Filiaelians.

Because they already knew what all of those differences were.

I should have kept it to myself. But I’m never that smart. “You lied to me,” I said quietly. “You told me the Shonkla-raa created you. That they gene-manipulated God only knows what creatures into the Chahwyn to be their servants.

“Only they didn’t, did they? The Shonkla-raa didn’t create you.

“
You
created
them
.”

Silently, with the finality of a sealing tomb, the car door irised shut. “Yes,” the Elder said, his melodious voice resonating with infinite sadness. “And with that knowledge, you must never be permitted to speak with anyone, ever again.”

TWENTY-SIX

The two defenders started toward me. “What are you going to do?” I asked.

“You cannot be permitted to share that knowledge with anyone,” the Chahwyn repeated. “We will take you to Viccai—”

“No, I know that part,” I interrupted, watching the approaching Spiders and trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do if this didn’t work. I knew something about Shonkla-raa, but I had no idea where defender weaknesses were. If they even had any. “I meant what are you going to do once I’m gone and Bayta and Morse have quit and the Modhri goes back to fighting on the side of the Shonkla-raa?”

“I have already told you our plan,” the Chahwyn said.

“You haven’t got a plan,” I said flatly. “You have a repeat of history. Shall I tell you why your ancestors created the Shonkla-raa in the first place?”

The defenders reached me, each shifting to a four-legged stance and lifting three legs toward me. “You created them to be your protectors,” I said. “As you’ve pointed out countless times, you Chahwyn can’t fight. So you created a group of beings that could, enhancing their telepathic abilities so you could more easily communicate with them.”

The defenders paused, their legs hovering in midair like a mobile cage waiting to come crashing down around me. “Do I have to remind you how well that worked out?” I added.

“It will be different this time,” the Chahwyn said. “We have better control of the defenders than we ever had with the Shonkla-raa.”

“No you don’t,” I said. “Maybe they’re obeying you right now, but I don’t doubt the Shonkla-raa did the same at the beginning. The problem wasn’t your engineering, but with the philosophical basis of the whole project.”

The Spider legs were still hovering over me. “Explain,” the Chahwyn said.

“What you did then—what you’re doing now—is creating independent beings with intelligence, strength, and the ability and desire to compete and fight,” I said. “Sooner or later, the defenders will inevitably conclude that they can do a better job of running things than you can.”

“They will obey us,” the Chahwyn insisted.

“Not when they feel the need to break the rules you’ve set for them,” I told him. “As a matter of fact, they’ve already started. Back on the super-express from Homshil I needed to get my Beretta from its under-train lockbox. A regular Spider would never have allowed such a thing. But the two defenders you’d sent saw that it was necessary, and they got it for me. Reluctantly and under protest, but they did it.”

“But they’re bred for loyalty,” the Chahwyn insisted, his voice almost pleading. “How can they defy us and our laws?”

“Because that’s what
inevitable
means,” I said. “Power corrupts, one way or another. That’s all there is to it.”

“The defenders are Spiders. Their essence is taken from our own flesh.”

“But then heavily modified,” I reminded him. “I’m sure your ancestors were using similar logic when they picked Filiaelians to use as their Shonkla-raa template. They’d probably seen how Filly soldiers could be genetically engineered for loyalty, and figured that would guarantee their new protectors’ compliance and cooperation.”

“Then why didn’t it?”

“Because just like your defenders, the Chahwyn designers were forced to tweak the formula,” I said. “The way the Fillies engineer their soldiers’ loyalty is by sacrificing some of their initiative, intelligence, and motivation. We got a taste of that with
Logra
Emikai, when the simple fact that a Shonkla-raa was also a Filiaelian
santra
meant Emikai couldn’t take any action against him. Filly soldiers are even worse—good fighters, but in some ways not much better than ants in an anthill. That kind of strategy requires huge numbers, something your ancestors couldn’t come up with. So instead they were forced to make each individual Shonkla-raa smarter and more independent.”

I gestured to the two defenders still frozen in their mousetrap positions. “You’ve done the same thing with the defenders, and it’s going to lead to the same end result.”

The Chahwyn gave a noiseless sigh. “Your reading of history is accurate,” he admitted. “Yet we have no choice but to try.”

“Sure you do,” I said in my most encouraging voice. “You can close down the project, deploy the defenders you already have for the protection of Viccai, and let me take out the Shonkla-raa.”

“With the aid of he who was once our sworn enemy?”

I frowned at him … and then, abruptly, I realized what this whole confrontation was really all about.

The Chahwyn knew perfectly well that they were playing with fire. They knew that the last time they’d tried this they’d failed spectacularly, to the tune of the devastation of thousands of worlds and the wholesale slaughter of dozens of races. They’d seen firsthand what the Shonkla-raa could do, and were utterly terrified by this new resurgence.

But they were just as terrified at the thought of deliberately making the Modhri into something smarter, more patient, more competent. Terrified enough that they would rather cross their extendable fingers and hope that this time the protector plan would work.

Their minds weren’t made up, the way Bayta had thought. Or rather, the way this Elder had tried to make it appear to her. They were divided and paralyzed with indecision, seeing nothing but death and destruction at the end of all possible paths and afraid to move in any of them. I was here not to batter myself against a monolithic stone wall, but to give them a good reason to choose my proposed path over all the others.

Whether my way was the best, I couldn’t say. But I was pretty sure I could prove all the alternatives were worse.

“Yes, I’m willing to work with the Modhri,” I said. “For two reasons. First, unlike the Shonkla-raa, the Modhri is highly vulnerable to attack. You can walk right up to his coral outposts and destroy them, and if you don’t mind slaughtering a whole bunch of innocents you can walk right up to his walkers and destroy them, too. That vulnerability makes him far less likely to start anything grandiose.”

“Yet for two hundred years he has been trying to conquer the galaxy.”

“Because that’s what you designed him to do,” I countered. “That’s all he
could
do. But that’s about to change. By combining him with the Melding, you’re opening him up to new possibilities and options, new ways of dealing with the universe around him.”

“Yet you’ve already said that intelligence and initiative leads to competition and the desire to rule,” the Chahwyn said.

“I also said that will be limited by his vulnerability,” I said. “But you’re also assuming that on some level he
wants
to be our opponent. It’s my considered opinion that he doesn’t.”

“What then
does
he want?”

I raised my eyebrows. “He wants friends.”

For a long moment the Chahwyn just stared at me. “Friends,” he repeated at last, his voice flat.

“Yes,” I said. “You don’t understand, because you Chahwyn are never really alone. But the Modhri is. He always has been.”

“He has a multitude of mind segments.”

“All of which are essentially him,” I reminded him. “He’s never had any friends, only enemies and potential enemies. He’s never had anyone outside himself to trust, or who trusted him. Until now.”

“We do not trust him.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “I do.”

Another silence settled into the car like fine grains of dust. “Let me offer you a deal,” I said into the gap. “Give me the Melding coral and let me try things my way. If I fail, you can always fall back on your defender plan.”

The cat whiskers twitched. “Even a short delay could prove fatal.”

“Perhaps,” I said. “But if you do head down that path, it will permanently alter the tone and texture of your people, the Quadrail system, and the galaxy. Personally, I like the Quadrail and the Spiders just the way they are. I don’t want to see them ruined.”

“Even at the cost of defeat?”

“There won’t be a defeat,” I said. “My plan
will
work.”

I gestured around me. “And the time here isn’t quite as critical as you think. Even if the Modhri and I fail, you can always shut down the whole Quadrail system, boxing up the Shonkla-raa on whatever planets they currently happen to be in. That should give you enough time to build up your defender force.”

The Chahwyn’s shoulders did a strange hunchy thing. “That assumes the Shonkla-raa won’t learn the secret of the Thread.”

I grimaced. That was a big, dangerous
if
, all right. If the Shonkla-raa ever realized that the Thread hidden inside the Coreline was the key to the Quadrail’s faster-than-light travel, and that the Tube and the trains were just window dressing, then shutting down the system wouldn’t even slow them down. All they would have to do would be commandeer a few of the big defense ships that guarded each Quadrail station in the Filiaelian Assembly, wreck the Tube to allow them to get close to the Thread, and they’d be free to travel any place the Thread went. “Hopefully, they won’t,” I said. “Or if they do, that they’ll have their own reasons for sticking to the train system. At least for a while.”

I stood up, being careful not to bump into the metallic legs still half birdcaged around me. “All the more reason why we need to get this show on the road,” I continued. “Let me get this coral to Yandro and start the Modhri on his path to civilization.”

I started to ease past the defenders’ legs. But the legs shifted positions, once again blocking my path. “You cannot return to the others,” the Chahwyn said quietly. “I’ve already said that.”

I clenched my teeth. What part of
vital to the cause
didn’t he understand? “How about a compromise?” I suggested.

“What kind of compromise?”

I gestured to the two defenders. “You send Sam and Carl here with me,” I said. “If I ever start to tell anyone about your deep, dark secret, they have my permission to tear my head off.”

The whiskers twitched a few times. “That may be acceptable,” the Chahwyn said cautiously. “I shall pass the suggestion on to the others.”

I shook my head. “We don’t have time for a round-table committee discussion. You’re the Elder on the scene. You have the facts. You make the decision.”

The twitching whiskers started twitching a little harder. Then, abruptly, they stopped. As they did so, the two defenders lowered their upraised legs back to the floor. “Very well,” the Chahwyn said. “The defenders will go with you. They will stay with you at all times. If you speak of this matter, they have been given orders to end your life.”

The whiskers twitched one final time. “And they will also end the life of any you have told. Is that acceptable?”

I felt my stomach tighten. Bayta, certainly, would want the details of what had happened out here. So would Morse. Whether the Elder had specifically planned it that way or not, he’d now pretty well guaranteed I wouldn’t say a single word about my visit to either of them. “It is,” I agreed reluctantly.

“You may return to the station,” he said. “The coral will follow.”

“Thank you.” I started toward the door, then paused. “One other question,” I said. “Why did you make the Shonkla-raa throats so big? You surely weren’t thinking ahead to Modhran command tones, were you?”

“Not at all.” The Chahwyn gave a little sigh. “They were given large throats so that they could sing. We very much loved their music.”

I probably should have made some sort of comment to that. But for once, I couldn’t find anything to say. Inclining my head to him, with my new watchdogs tapping along at my heels, I headed back to my tender.

*   *   *

I’d half expected the entire group to be anxiously waiting for me when the tender slowed to a stop at the Yandro station. But only Bayta was standing by the door as it opened, her face still pale but with only a little of her earlier tension still showing. Clearly, she’d already learned from the Spiders that I was coming back alive.

She’d also obviously already guessed that the meeting hadn’t been an entirely friendly one. The sight of my new watchdogs could only emphasize that. “These are the guards I’m told we’ve been assigned?” she asked, giving the defenders a dubious look.

“These are they,” I confirmed as I glanced around. The Melding was still sitting together around their pseudo campfire, and I could see that Terese and Rebekah had joined them. Morse, though, was nowhere to be seen. “This is Sam; I’m calling this one Carl.”

“I assume the names have a meaning,” she said.

“They’re from a dit-rec drama called
Casablanca
,” I explained. “Sam and Carl were two of the hero’s employees.”

“I suppose that makes you Rick?” Morse asked, coming around the side of the tender and striding toward us.

“I did always like his hat,” I agreed, looking past Morse’s shoulder. There was nothing in that direction but more empty station. “Communing with nature?”

“Communing with my colony,” he corrected. “I suppose that makes me Major Strasser?”