He went over to the Prime. "Yes?"

"Warrior Command can't open pathways to any of the Elders on Mra," the Prime told him. "So it's up to you. Go back and see what's happened to the Closed Mouth. But be careful."

"I obey." Thrr't-rokik flicked back along his anchorline to his hidden fsss cutting. The supply room where it had been stored was deserted. Carefully, keeping as deep in the grayworld as he could, he moved through the stone corridors and walls to the hangar area. He passed a dozen scurrying Mrachanis on the way; none of them seemed to notice him.

The Closed Mouth was still where it had been, looking unharmed. Bracing himself, prepared for the worst, he moved through the hull into the control room.

And stopped short in confusion. All the Zhirrzh were also still there, also apparently unharmed. "Nzz-oonaz?" he said, coming up again to the edge of the lightworld.

A dozen physicals and Elders spun around at the sound of his voice. "Thrr't-rokik?" Nzz-oonaz said with obvious surprise. "I thought you'd been caught on the other side."

"The other side of what?"

"Of the metal sheet covering this hangar," Nzz-oonaz told him. "Didn't you notice it?"

"Those aircraft that came by dropped it over the cliff above us," a Zhirrzh wearing commander's insignia growled, stepping to Nzz-oonaz's side. "Probably with help from the Human-Conquerors."

Thrr't-rokik flicked upward, through the hull and stone cliffs to the metal covering. "I see," he said, returning to the Closed Mouth. "That explains why Warrior Command hasn't been able to open pathways to the Elders—"

"Wait a beat," the commander cut him off. "You've talked to someone on Oaccanv? Recently?"

"Of course," Thrr't-rokik said. "As I tried to tell you before, I've been speaking with the Overclan Prime. He sent me back here just now to find out what happened to you."

Nzz-oonaz flicked his tongue suddenly. "Of course. That fsss cutting of yours—it's outside the metal covering. Get back and tell him that we expect to be under attack soon."

"I obey," Thrr't-rokik said, and flicked along his anchorline back to the Oaccanv hilltops and the Zhirrzh waiting there.

The Prime was speaking to another Elder but broke off as Thrr't-rokik arrived. "Well?" he asked.

"They're all alive and well," Thrr't-rokik told him. "What happened was that the Mrachanis have covered the hangar area with a metal sheet, blocking all anchorlines."

"I see," the Prime said, eyeing him. "And how is it that you aren't affected?"

Thrr't-rokik braced himself. If he hadn't been in trouble before, he was likely going to be so now. "Because I'm not part of any official group of Elders," he said. "I stowed away on the Willing Servant. My fsss cutting is hidden in a supply box that was moved to the study group's quarters."

"I see," the Prime said, his expression unreadable. "Any particular reason you stowed away on that particular ship?"

"I was following the two Zhirrzh who stole my wife's fsss," Thrr't-rokik said. "They got on the Willing Servant but then got off after my cutting was already aboard—"

He broke off, a sudden horrible thought striking him. Prr't-zevisti had said two Dhaa'rr agents had taken command of the Dorcas ground warriors. If they were the same ones he'd been following—

"There must be something about the Thrr family and illegal fsss operations," the Prime grunted. "But never mind. The issue here is how we're going to stop this war."

Thrr't-rokik grimaced. "Understood," he said. "What do you want me to do?"

For a long beat the Prime gazed out unseeingly at the waving treetops in the distance. "We need Lord-stewart Cavanagh's help to arrange a truce," he said at last, as if thinking aloud. "That much is clear. But with a Mrach attack on the Closed Mouth imminent, there's no longer any way for us to release him."

"Are we certain the Mrachanis are attacking?" Commander Oclan-barjak asked. "Could that metal sheet have some other purpose?"

"Not after they told Nzz-oonaz the attackers would be using CIRCE," the Prime said. "If it hadn't been for the accident of Thrr't-rokik's presence there, we would certainly have concluded that all the Zhirrzh had been killed instantly, leaving the Mrachanis free to take the ship apart at their leisure."

Oclan-barjak spat a curse. "So the Mrachanis have betrayed us."

"Valloittaja's group has," the Prime agreed. "We don't know if the betrayal extends to all Mrach clans. All the better, though, that we didn't agree to that attack on Earth he wanted. The point is that as long as he's a prisoner, Lord-stewart Cavanagh won't be able to influence the Human-Conqueror warriors. But perhaps he can influence his son and daughter. Prr't-zevisti?"

"Yes, Overclan Prime?" the other Elder said, coming forward.

"You said you'd spoken at length during your captivity with Melinda Cavanagh," the Prime said. "Did she seem to have any influence with the Human-Conqueror commander there?"

"Some influence, yes," Prr't-zevisti said. "I don't know if she has enough for your purposes."

"We'll have to hope she does," the Prime said. "All right. Prr't-zevisti, Thrr't-rokik—go back and explain the situation to your respective Human-Conqueror contacts. Then we'll set up a pathway between them."

He flicked his tongue. "And then," he added, "we shall see what happens."

"It is time," Valloittaja said, standing two steps into the room. Behind him, filling the doorway, were two Bhurtala. "Come with me, please."

"Time for what?" Bronski asked, not making any move to get off his cot.

"Time for you to fulfill your purpose here," the Mrachani said.

"You're going to kill us, in other words," Bronski said, waving a hand negligently. Out of the corner of his eye Cavanagh saw Kolchin easing his position on his own cot. The signal had been given, and the two former Peacekeeper commandos were preparing their attack.

An attack that everyone in the room already knew was predestined to failure.

"Of course," Valloittaja said calmly. "I trust you didn't think you were here on holiday."

"I take it that means you've started your attack on the Zhirrzh," Bronski said. "Any progress?"

"Enough," Valloittaja said. "Please come cooperatively. I have no desire to order unnecessary pain inflicted on you."

"I'm sure you don't," Bronski agreed, his tone almost flippant. "Especially since we're probably supposed to die in combat of one sort or another. Can't have bruises from Bhurtist fingers all over us confusing the medical examiners."

"There will be no medical examiners," Valloittaja said, starting to sound irritated. "At least, no human ones. The Zhirrzh won't even notice them."

And then, from the stone wall behind Cavanagh's head, came Thrr't-rokik's faint voice. "Ask him how long it will take them to enter the Zhirrzh spacecraft."

With an effort Cavanagh resisted the urge to turn around. "Tell me, Valloittaja, how long do you think it'll take you to get into the Zhirrzh ship out there?" he asked.

The mouse face frowned delicately. "We'll be inside soon enough," he said.

"They are trying to make it look like an attack with CIRCE," Thrr't-rokik's voice murmured again in Cavanagh's ear. "All must die together."

Cavanagh frowned. CIRCE? What on Earth was the Elder talking about? Or trying to get him to say? "I don't suppose you could tell us exactly how this attack is going to be staged," he improvised, stalling for time. "The traditional last request?"

Valloittaja made some sarcastic-sounding reply. But Cavanagh didn't hear it, his full attention on the voice whispering from the stone behind him. "They told Nzz-oonaz that Human-Conquerors were attacking with CIRCE," Thrr't-rokik whispered. "But if you and Zhirrzh do not die at same time—you see?"