The Crucible of Empire (64 page)

The ancient names of those abandoned planets were only legend now: Sankil, Thrase, Gisht, and Remaht. The coordinates had been lost on their migrations long ago. Might one or more of those worlds still exist, lying fallow, waiting for their former residents to return? And if the Lleix could locate them, would the
Boh
be there, ready to watch over the Lleix again? The possibility was exciting, and in the meantime, they had these glorious green and gold hills as well as snow-covered mountains to explore.

Two former unassigned dashed past her, arguing energetically about their new
elian
, whatever it was. There were many new
elian
emerging out of the Workorganizers, these days. The people of the former
dochaya
had decided that one of their new
elian
's duties was to create other new
elian
where needed.

It was a claim that few of the established
elian
recognized, but that hardly mattered any more. Most of the old
elian
were mired in dull and sullen resentment. Not all, though. In addition to Terralore, two of the most important established
elian
—Childtenders, who had been the largest until Workorganizers was formed, and Weaponsmakers—were adjusting well to the changes. They were on good terms with the huge new
elian,
and were cooperating with it.

The Childtenders had always been sensitive to the plight of those of their former charges relegated to the
dochaya.
As for the Weaponsmakers . . .

For them, this new situation was a blessing. Terra-Taif had decided to design one of the new
Lexington-
class ships for a largely Lleix crew. So the Weaponsmakers had a lot of work again, along with new skills to learn. They were taking in many new members from the unassigned. A small host, in fact. By long custom, Weaponsmakers would provide most of the crew when the ship was built.

Jihan was keeping a record of these new
elian
as they came into being, so she followed them out of the invigorating wind into their shelter.

"What is the designation and purpose of your
elian
?" she asked.

The smaller of the two, a young male, had a bronze aureole and silver skin of a shade far lighter than most. He stared at his feet. The other, an older male, met her gaze, then looked away, making himself respectfully small. "We are the
Boh
-Finders, Eldest," he said.

"On this world—Terra?" She could not keep the surprise from her voice, though she tried most diligently to support all the new
elian
.

"No, Eldest," the smaller said. He looked up into her face and his black eyes sparkled with plans. His young body radiated eagerness and he simply could not be still. "We will go to Sankil someday, or Thrase, or even Remaht, and find them there."

It was a long range plan, but worthy of effort and study. All Lleix had dreamed down through the generations that someday the
Boh
would once again look upon their lost children and enfold them in their beneficent sacred attention. "Then," she said carefully, "you will need a viewer to examine all the old records and learn as much as you can."

Their aureoles crumpled. Unassigned possessed nothing beyond themselves and had all come away from Valeron with only their shifts. They would not know how to operate a viewer even if one did come their way. Servants, such as they had been, cooked and scrubbed, fetched and carried, labored in the fields, cleaned waterways, streets, and houses. They were not allowed to operate valuable devices.

"Terralore has two such machines," Jihan said. "We will reassign one of them to the
Boh
-Finders and allow our Pyr some time off from his
elian
duties to instruct your members in its use."

They would need many more viewers, she realized. Unfortunately, the
elian
which traditionally handled that work had been one of the eleven which had refused to make the voyage to Terra. She would have to speak with the Workorganizers to see about forming a new
elian
which could manage the task.

"You would do that," the older said, his aureole now rippling with emotion, "for such as we, for mere—"

"For a new
elian
with a great purpose," she said. "For that wondrous day when you do find the
Boh
and we can all finally go home."

Dannet was too surprised to speak, for a moment. And when she did finally manage to utter a word, she immediately felt like a fumble-witted crecheling.

"Me?"

Dumbfounded, she stared at the small human female, Caitlin Kralik. She had apparently once had a different birth name—"family name," they called it, after that peculiar human institution that seemed to substitute poorly for a proper clan. But when Caitlin married her husband—they usually only mated in pairs—she'd taken his family name for her own. That custom also struck Dannet as peculiar, but so did much else about humans.

She looked then to the husband in question, Ed Kralik. He was one of the top commanders of Terra's jinau troops. A very capable commander, by all accounts including those of Jao.

He nodded his head, seeming to be amused. "As she says, Terra-Captain. You, indeed."

Dannet now looked to the two Jao in the room: Wrot, who was one of the new taif's Jao elders, and the much younger former Pluthrak who was the planet's governor. Wrot said nothing and neither did Aille. But the postures of both of them indicated their agreement, Aille's in that damnably sophisticated Pluthrak manner that anyone Narvo-born like Dannet found simultaneously engaging and irritating.

Her wits returned in sufficient force to muster a two-word sentence. "Why me?"

Caitlin's eyebrows went up. Dannet had learned enough of the primitive and overly plastic human methods of body language to know that facial gesture was the rough human equivalent of
surprise.
That was itself a very rough posture, of course, which was usually combined with another for less coarse effect. But perhaps there were subtleties in that eyebrow-raising expression that Dannet did not recognize yet.

Yet.
The qualifier came easily, these days. As time passed, Dannet had come to realize that the Bond's instinct had been a good one, here on Terra. Humans were indeed far more advanced and subtle than she had ever imagined, when she first arrived. She still didn't like them much, aside from a few individuals, but she no longer felt much in the way of derision, either.

As it happened, she had already come to the conclusion that Caitlin Kralik and her husband were two of the humans whom she did like. So she was not entirely surprised at Caitlin's next words.

"Why would we not choose you, Terra-Captain?" was her counter-question. "You performed superbly in the expedition to NGC 7293. And you are already familiar with most of the central figures who will be involved in the explora—ah, Operation Sagittarius. Myself, Major Tully—Colonel Tully, now—and the Krants. The only real question is how well you will handle the duties of commanding a fleet instead of a single ship." She gave Dannet a wide smile. "But none of us have any real doubts on that matter. If for no other reason, because we are quite certain that Narvo would have selected you very carefully—and with eventual fleet command in mind."

Subtle, indeed. Dannet had assumed that almost all humans would still react to anything Narvo with nothing but antagonism. Neither she nor the Narvo kochan leaders had expected that hostility would abate in less than a generation. But it seemed that was not true, at least for some of them—and those, very highly placed and influential.

Dannet nodded stiffly, doing her best to mimic that human gesture. That had the advantage of lowering her head, so she could disguise her momentary amusement. Quite obviously, Caitlin had intended to use the human term "exploration," before realizing that to most Jao its use would seem frivolous. So she'd substituted the ponderous alternative "Operation Sagittarius."

Dannet lifted her head back up. And was careful not to let anything in her body posture betray the fact that she herself was one of those few Jao who thought exploration for its own sake was well worth the effort and resources.

Aille spoke next. "You understand that Caitlin will have
oudh,
when it comes to the basic mission? I am certain she will consult with you closely, as will General Kralik, but any final decisions will be hers. Your authority is over the fleet and naval matters."

Dannet nodded again. Despite the powerful naval forces that were to be committed to the expedition—no fewer than three
Lexington
-class vessels, along with a large number of smaller ships—the purpose of the project was not primarily military. And besides . . .

She really did approve of the human Caitlin. She foresaw no major problems.

But all she said was, "Yes, Governor."

Glumly, Tully stared into his beer. Now that the initial excitement of deciding on the exploratory expedition—no, they were calling it something pompous and stupid; "Operation Riders of the Purple Sage" or something like that—was over, the darker realities were setting in.

Yeah, fine, he'd been promoted to colonel and he'd be in command of an entire regiment and he even got along fairly well with Ed Kralik, who'd be in overall command of the ground forces attached to the expedition. But Tully also knew damn good and well that Kralik had stiff notions concerning the military proprieties.

True, the expedition was going to have a strong scientific component, as well. Maybe some of those scientists would be female, reasonably young—colonel or not, Tully was still shy of thirty—and not too hard to look at.

And willing to overlook the fact that Tully didn't have a high school diploma, much less a college degree. Just a don't-look-too-close Resistance version of a GED.

Yeah, sure. A blue-collar lady astrophysicist or astronomer. Not impossible, no. Just about as likely, Tully figured, as snow in August.

In Florida.

He looked up, and his dark mood got darker. Speak of the devil, and his minion is sure to sashay up. His very off-limits minion.

But he let none of it show. Without quite looking at her, he waved his hand and said: "Have a seat, Lt. Miller. Can I buy you a beer?"

"Yes, thank you," she said, sitting across from him in the corner booth in the officers club. "But it's Captain Miller, now. I just got promoted."

She pointed to the insignia on her cap. Now that he looked directly, Tully saw that there were two bars instead of one.

"Congratulations, Caewithe. I'll be sorry to see you go, though. I don't have an opening for a captain in my regiment. Which unit is Kralik assigning you to?"

Miller shook her head. "I'm not under Kralik's command at all. Not Ed Kralik, that is. The powers-that-be decided that Caitlin Kralik needed a special unit of her own. Call it an expanded bodyguard—that's how we apes would look at it—or call it her own personal service, the way the Jao would look at it. Either way, I'm going to be a captain in charge of a platoon sized force that really ought to have a lieutenant in command except Caitlin told me privately she likes working with me and figures I'll be more in the way of a civilian adviser than a soldier. Assuming nobody tries to kill her, anyway, at which point my formal gorilla status kicks back in."

She gave Tully a big smile. The sort of big smile that a first grade teacher bestows on one of her brighter students, when she expects him to solve a problem all on its own.

Tully's mind was racing.
Special unit. Answers directly to Caitlin Kralik. Not connected to the regular military force at all. Not even indirectly part of my chain of command.

Hot diggedy damn. Well . . .

"I guess this a stupid question, Captain, but . . ." Tully waved over one of the waitresses. "Ah . . . what sort of an education did you pick up along the way?"

By now, Miller had taken off her cap and the waitress had arrived. "I'll have what he's having," she told her. Then, gave Tully the same sort of smile that a first grade teacher gives one of her brighter students when the stout lad is struggling with the problem but making forward progress. "About what you'd expect. Northern California got hit pretty hard during the Conquest, and, like I said, my family were dockworkers."

She shrugged, using the gesture to get out of her jacket at the same time. "One year in community college, that was it."

The heavy jacket was well suited for Colorado coming into winter but did absolutely nothing for her figure. Tully thought the change was splendid. The answer was even better.

"Well, then. I was wondering, Captain—ah, Caewithe—what you were doing Friday night?"

She bestowed on him the same smile that first grade teachers bestow on one of their brighter students when the plucky lad finally gets the answer right.

"What a coincidence. As it happens, Colonel Tully—Gabe, rather—I'm at loose ends this coming Friday night."

The smile widened, and lost any trace of the schoolteacher.