Some white card. Fiben snorted, knowing how stupid the Suzerain of Propriety had to be to have chosen a chim like him for such a role.
“I must’ve lost my grip for a while.”
Sylvie touched his left shoulder. He winced and looked down to see a nasty burn there. Oddly, it did not seem to hurt as badly as a score of lesser aches and bruises.
“You taunted the storm, Fiben,” she said in a hushed voice. “You dared it to come down after you. And when it came… you made it do your bidding.”
Fiben closed his eyes. Oh, Goodatt. Of all the siUy, superstitious nonsense.
And yet, there was a part of him, deep down, that felt warmly satisfied. It was as if that portion actually believed that there had been cause and effect, that he had done exactly what Sylvie described!
Fiben shuddered. “Help me sit up, okay?”
There was a disorienting moment or two as the horizon tilted and vision swam. At last, though, when she had him seated so the world no longer wavered all around him, he gestured for her to help him stand.
“You should rest, Fiben.”
“When we reach the Mulun,” he told her. “Dawn can’t be far off. And the storm won’t last forever. Come on, I’ll lean on you.”
She took his good arm over her shoulder, bracing him. Somehow, they managed to get him onto his feet.
“Y’know,” he said. “You’re a strong lil” chimmie. Hmph. Carried me all the way up here, did you?”
She nodded, looking up at him with that same light. Fiben smiled. “Okay,” he said. “Pretty damn okay.”
Together they started out, limping toward the glowering dark hummocks to the east.
PART FIVE
Avengers
In ancient days, when Poseidon still reigned and the ships of man were as weak as tinder, bad luck struck a certain Thracian freighter, who foundered and broke apart under an early winter storm. All hands were lost under those savage waves, save one — the boat’s mascot — a monkey.
As the fates would have it, a dolphin appeared just as the monkey was gasping its last breath. Knowing of the great love between man and dolphin, the monkey cried out, “Save me! For the sake of my poor children in Athens!”
Quick as a streak, the dolphin offered its broad back. “Thou art very strange, small, and ugly for a man,” the dolphin said as the monkey took a desperate grip.
“As men go, I might be quite handsome,” replied the monkey, who coughed, holding on tightly as the dolphin turned towards land. “You say you are a man of Athens?” the wary sea creature asked.
“Indeed, who would claim it were he not?” the monkey proclaimed.
“Then you know Piraeus?” the suspicious dolphin inquired further.
The monkey thought quickly. “Oh, yes!” he cried. “Piraeus is my dear friend. I only spoke with him last week!”
With that the dolphin bucked angrily and flung the monkey into the sea to drown. The moral of the story, one might suppose, is that one should always get one’s story straight, when pretending to be what one is not.
68
Galactics
The image in the holographic display flickered. That was not surprising, since it came from many parsecs away, refracted through the folded space of the Pourmin transfer point. The muddy picture wavered and occasionally lost definition.
Still, to the Suzerain of Propriety the message was coming in all too clearly.
A diverse collection of beings stood depicted before the Suzerain’s pedestal. It recognized most of the races by sight. There was a Pila, for instance — short, furry, and stubby-armed. And there was a tall, gangling Z’Tang who stood beside a spiderlike Serentin. A Bi-Gle glowered lazily, coiled next to a being the Suzerain did not immediately recognize, and which might have been a client or a decorative pet.
Also, to the Suzerain’s dismay, the delegation included a Synthian and a human.
A human!
And there was no way to complain. It was only appropriate to include a Terran among the official observers — if a qualified human were available — since this world was registered to the wolflings. But the Suzerain had felt certain that there were none employed by the Uplift Institute in this sector!
Perhaps this was one more sign that the political situation in the Five Galaxies had worsened. Word had come from the homeworld Roost Masters telling of serious setbacks out between the spiral arms. Battles had gone badly. Allies had proven unreliable. Tandu and Soro fleets dominated once profitable trade routes and now monopolized the siege of Earth.
These were trying times for the great and powerful clan of the Gooksyu-Gubru. All now depended on certain important neutralist patron-lines. Should something happen to draw one or two of them into an alliance, triumph might yet be attained for the righteous.
On the other side of the wing, it would be disastrous to see any of the neutrals turn against the Great Glan!
To influence such matters had been a major reason, back when the Suzerain of Propriety originated the idea of invading Garth in the first place. Superficially this expedition had been intended to seize hostages for use in prying secrets out of the High Command of Earth. But psychological profiles had always made success in that seem unlikely. Wolflings were obstinate creatures.
No, what had won the Roost Masters over to the priest’s proposal was the possibility that this would bring honor to the cause of the clan — to score a coup and win new alliances from wavering parties. And at first all seemed to go so well! The first Suzerain of Cost and Caution -
The priest chirped a deep note of mourning. It had not before realized what wisdom they had lost, how the old bureaucrat had tempered the rash brilliance of the younger two with deep and reliable sense.
What a consensus, unity, policy we might have had.
Now, though, in addition to the constant struggles among the still disunited Triumvirate, there was this latest bad news. A Terran would be among the official observers from the Uplift Institute. The implications were unpleasant to consider.
And that was not to be the worst of it! As the Suzerain watched in dismay, the Earthling stepped forward as spokesman! Its statement was in clear Galactic Seven.
“Greetings to the Triumvirate of the Forces of Gooksyu-Gubru, now in contested occupation of the limited-leasehold world known as Garth. I greet you in the name of Cough’Quinn*3, Grand High Examiner of the Uplift Institute. This message is being sent ahead of our vessel by the quickest available means, so that you may prepare for our arrival. Conditions in hyperspace and at transfer points indicate that causality will almost certainly allow us to attend the proposed ceremonies, and administer appropriate sapiency tests at the time and place requested by you.
“You are further informed that Galactic Uplift Institute has gone to great lengths to accommodate your unusual request — first in exercising such haste and second in acting on the basis of so little information.
“Ceremonies of Uplift are joyous occasions, especially in times of turmoil such as these. They celebrate the continuity and perpetual renewal of Galactic culture, in the name of the most revered Progenitors. Client species are the hope, the future of our civilization, and on such occasions as this we demonstrate our responsibility, our honor, and our love.
“We approach this event, then, filled with curiosity as to what wonder the clan of Gooksyu-Gubru plans to unveil before the Five Galaxies.”
The scene vanished, leaving the Suzerain to contemplate this news.
It was too late, of course, to recall the invitations and cancel the ceremony. Even the other Suzerains recognized this. The shunt must be completed, and they must prepare to receive honored guests. To do otherwise might damage the Gubru cause irrevocably.