The Crucible of Empire (51 page)

"After I explained the situation to Jihan, we stayed up late and discussed logistics for getting her people off this world." Caitlin rose and prowled the bare kitchen, opening doors, peeking into dusty cabinets filled with gnawed shreds. "You know about the
dochaya
, right?"

He grimaced. "The slum? Yeah, we got a damned good look at it when we landed. I can't say I'm impressed by their social arrangements."

"It's huge," Caitlin said. "At least half the population lives out there, maybe three quarters." Her eyes were haunted.

"That many?" He shook his head. "I hadn't realized."

"Whenever they have to flee a world," Caitlin said, "they only take the
elian
, the elite, the ones who live in these elegant houses, wear beautiful robes, and make all the decisions." She was trembling. "They always leave everyone in the
dochaya
behind."

Jihan was summoned back to the Han early that morning. Caitlin had already left the
elian
-house, which was just as well. Jihan did not want the little human present when she revealed the deception perpetrated by the humans and Jao.

She boarded the transport at the foot of the mountain and rode up into the windy heights in silence. The other Eldests also traveling to the Han spoke with one another in low measured tones, but none turned to her, and that was quite proper. She was the most youthful of all their number. What counsel could such as she provide, even if she hadn't been so graceless as to break
sensho
?

The wind blasted through the open windows. Flakes of snow pelted her face. She breathed deeply of the aromatic freshness of high altitude
lir
-trees that clung to the rocks and wondered if this Terra, of which Caitlin had spoken, possessed such lovely scents.

Then she sighed. It did not matter. Terra might be a terrible place with no beauty at all, but still the Lleix would have to go with the humans or it would be Last-of-Days. The next time the Ekhat returned, the great devils would come with ten or twenty or thirty ships. All that would be left of Valeron in their wake was ashes. Of that, she was certain.

With a rush, she suddenly realized that revealing the truth of this situation between humans and the Jao would serve no purpose. If telling would save her people, she would readily come forward and admit her grievous error, but after talking with Caitlin through the night, she saw that it would just frighten the Han into turning away from the only help they had ever been offered.

Then they would launch their few remaining rickety ships containing only a fraction of the population, leaving most behind to die when the Ekhat came. Those ships that escaped might not find another suitable world in time to establish a new colony, or indeed even manage to make the jump out of this star system. Many generations had passed since Lleix had attempted such travel. The ships might well malfunction.

And if they did find another suitable planet, they might very well be too small in numbers to form a large enough gene pool. Without intervention, the Lleix were probably doomed under any circumstances.

Her aureole stiffened, standing against the fierce mountain winds. The Lleix needed these humans, even with all their duplicity. They needed their ancient enemy, the Jao. They even needed Jihan, in all her shortness, to make them listen.

The transport halted at the curving steps carved into the naked striated gray stone. She hung back to let the others who outranked her disembark. Her mind raced as they edged off, slowly, carefully, as though the Lleix had eons to decide this matter. Then she trudged up the mountainside after them, ordering her mind as one ordered her robes, seeking the precise approach that would both follow
sensho
and gain their understanding.

Her superiors would all have to speak before she was allowed to come forward, as was their right, and she would have to sit there and listen through the long morning well into the afternoon, knowing with every breath they were wrong, that they had not seen what she had seen, did not know what she knew, that not one of them possessed the correct information upon which to base such a momentous decision.

She strode in through the great doors, crossing the old flagstones, worn with steps of many generations, laid down when they had first fled to this world. Thoughts rattled around inside her head like pebbles in a jar. How could so many venerable Eldests be wrong? Lleix society said they could not, that assembled wisdom, such as the Han represented, always achieved the right decision, however long it took. But the Lleix did not have time for pointless posturing and rehashing of one another's words, for statement and restatement of the obvious, for every single voice to be heard.

Jihan crossed the hall's open square, which was bordered on all four sides by benches, headed for Jaolore's place tucked into a corner at the very back, hidden among the shortests, then stopped, unable to make herself take another step toward proper obscurity when so very much was at stake.

Grijo looked down at her from his great carved chair in the center and the room stilled. Carefully dressed aureoles of every color fluttered. The Eldests were all waiting for her to make a graceless fool of herself again, to break
sensho
, to reinforce the poor opinions they had already formed about her.

But what did it matter? She could not be any more shamed than she already was. She looked up, surrounded on all sides by the gleaming black gaze of her betters, feeling their disdain.

Grijo blinked down at her, so grand in his immensity. "Shortest," he said in his booming voice. "Little Jaolore, take your seat. We have much to debate."

She started to obey, but then stopped. There must be words, there must! But she did not know what they were. "Eldest," she said and her voice was only a hoarse whisper. Her fingers twitched the hang of her robe a bit, adjusting that which needed no adjustment. If only she could adjust their minds so easily! "Time runs away from us. I believe that we must be ready to leave this world when the humans come back. We should be preparing the
elian
, not spending yet another day in endless discussion of the obvious. They are willing to help, as we once tried to help the Jao. Should we turn away now as the Jao did, refusing the offering of wise advice?"

The Eldests stiffened with disapproval at her brashness. More than a few looked away, exercising
oyas-to
, refusing to see the repetition of such disgraceful behavior.

Grijo's aureole rippled, but the Eldest of all of them did not turn away. "You have taken these humans and their Jao into your
elian
-house."

Jihan bowed her head, making herself even smaller. "Yes, Eldest."

"Why?"

Why, indeed? Because the humans were small and needed shelter? Because the Jao should be watched? Because she wanted to hear more of this Terra and their possible salvation from death at Ekhat hands? Because, by doing so, she had learned the frightening truth at last? There were many reasons, shading into one another, all valid, yet none that would make the Han
listen
.

She raised her head. "Because," she said, not gazing into anyone's eyes, "if they are going to save us, I wished to know the full breadth of their minds before we subjected ourselves to their judgment."

Voices whispered through the immense hall like wind through ripening grain. Aureoles rose, fell, rose again. Knowing the humans' minds—this was a new idea, hard to take in. The Eldests tried it out upon one another, saying it in their own voices so it seemed more like something they had thought for themselves.

It was all so brainless, Jihan lost patience and forgot to be ashamed of her audacity. "Unending discussion of this matter is of no benefit!" She turned, meeting the startled eyes of her superiors as they sat, spines stiff, in their carefully ranked rows, tallests in front, shortests in the rear. "In fact, endless discussion has brought us to this day, which
is
Last-of-Days, unless we take action! We can no longer afford to cower in this out-of-the-way corner of the galaxy, hoping the Ekhat will not find us. They
have
found us, twice, and
will
be back." She could feel her aureole standing on end. "I have boarded one of their ships and seen the great devils eye to eye, and I tell you that they are even more terrible than you can imagine! They will never stop coming! They will never leave us alone, no matter how far we flee! We need this alliance!"

Silence fell as all eyes turned again to her, graceless Jihan, who it seemed could not keep quiet even when propriety absolutely demanded. They weighed her, those fathomless black eyes. They took her measure and found her still so very short.

Old Sayr of the Starsifters, her former mentor, rose, levering his bulk onto his feet ponderously. The Eldests turned to him. Though he was not quite as old as Grijo, he did not lack much in being his match. "Despite her youth, Jihan is speaking truth," he said. "It is time to do things a new way. Old ways have led us here and, unaided, there is no path out. We have to give over our minds to something unexperienced. We must tell the humans yes when they return." He hesitated, gazing steadily at Jihan. "If they return in time."

"They must," she said, humbled by his generosity in considering the ideas of one so short. "It cannot all have been for nothing. We must make a new home somewhere safe."

Grijo gazed over the rows of heads as the Eldests in their gaily brocaded robes gazed numbly at one another. "Will any here say no?"

Pont of the Stonesculptors rose, her aureole flat on one side, quivering on the other. "You cannot be serious," she said. "You think that we should trust these humans with the future of our entire species?"

"What I think," Grijo said, rising, "is that any who do not wish to go with the humans should remain behind and greet the Ekhat in our stead, once we have gone. Will that please you?"

The Stonesculptors sat again, hard, as though her legs had given way.

"Young Jihan has only said what has been in my mind these past few days," Grijo said. "I have been remiss in remaining silent." He gazed pointedly down at Jihan, who was staring up at him in amazement. "It is time for us to leave this world."

Tully lingered outside their appropriated house, watching the Lleix servants work alongside his troops, and all the while, despite the frost-ridden air, he seethed. He'd thought the Jao social set-up was bad with its high and low ranked kochan and limited personal choices, but their system didn't have a patch on this! By Caitlin's estimate, more than half the Lleix population lived in the
dochaya
, going out into the main city each day, begging to be allowed to work at the stuck-up
elian
.

Oh, they weren't left to starve, even if they couldn't find employment, but hanging out in the empty
dochaya
barracks without employment or hope of training or education was no kind of life for anyone, alien or not. They were the most thoroughly disenfranchised creatures he'd ever encountered. About the only parallel Tully could think of were the old Hindu untouchables.

Even Pyr, who, Tully learned, had only recently been accepted into Jaolore, was tarred with the disgrace of having spent time in the
dochaya
. Tully saw how the Lleix from other
elian
, who delivered supplies and furniture to the humans quartered in the abandoned buildings, snubbed him. Each encounter left the young Lleix silent and dispirited.

"Why do you let them treat you that way?" Tully asked, after a tall Lleix threw a box constructed of a plasticlike substance to the frosty earth at Pyr's feet without speaking, then stalked away.

"They know I am nothing," Pyr said. "No one would have me until Jaolore was formed. The other
elian
are much offended that I dare look into the eyes of my betters." He gazed dolefully at Tully's feet for a moment, then turned away. "Is it not being so among humans?"

Tully noted that the slender male's Jao had improved even since last night. His syntax was almost perfect now. How were he and Jihan learning so quickly? Had the two of them stayed up into the wee hours practicing night after night, just in case they one day encountered Jao?

"No, it is not so among humans," he said, walking up and down before the house and flapping his arms to warm himself. It was still cold enough to freeze your bits off. "We believe that all are born with the same opportunities, and it is up to the individual to make of himself as much as possible. Anyone can advance if he is willing to work hard and learn."

"How can that be?" Pyr said. His small hands dithered with the box, then he hefted it to his shoulder. "Caitlin, Queen of the Universe, is your Eldest. She is having high rank, does she not?"

That again! Tully resisted the urge to find Kaln and thrash the babbling tech within an inch of her Krant life. And of course, Wrot, blast his hide, deserved a full measure of the blame for this as well. He cleared his throat, acutely uncomfortable. "I will explain about that later. For now, I promise you that Caitlin has worked hard to earn the rank she holds."

"What has work to do with rank?" Pyr blinked. "One is either aged and tall or young and short. It is well known that the young are always foolish. Only the Eldests have accumulated wisdom." He shifted the box's weight to balance it better. "I do not have understanding."