Set it off early… Uthacalthing hunted for the right metaphor. It was as if a child had escaped from a cradle, crawled straight into a den of Vl’Korg beasts, and slapped the queen right in the snout!
“…second grievance, and the precipitate cause for our ennomic intervention here, is our strong suspicion that Uplift irregularities are taking place on -the planet Garth!
“In our possession is evidence that the semi-sentient client species known as ‘neo-chimpanzee’ is being given improper guidance, and is not being properly served by either its human patrons or its Tymbrimi consorts…”
The Tymbrimi? Improper consorts? Oh, you arrogant avians shall pay for that insult, Uthacalthing vowed.
The chims hurried to their feet and bowed low when he approached. Syulff-kuonn glimmered briefly at the tips of his corona as he returned the gesture.
“I wish to have certain messages delivered. Will you serve me?”
They all nodded. The chims were obviously uncomfortable with each other, coming as they did from such different social strata.
One was dressed proudly in the uniform of a militia officer. Two others wore bright civilian clothes. The last and most shabbily dressed chim bore a kind of breast panel-display with an array of keys on both sides, which let the poor creature perform a semblance of speech. This one stood a little behind and apart from the others and barely lifted his gaze from the ground.
“We are at your service,” said the clean-cut young lieutenant, snapping to attention. He seemed completely aloof to the sour glances the gaudily clad civilians cast his way.
“That is good, my young friend.” Uthacalthing grasped the chim’s shoulder and held out a small black cube. “Please deliver this to Planetary Coordinator Oneagle, with my compliments. Tell her that I had to delay my own departure to Sanctuary, but I hope to see her soon.”
I am not really lying, Uthacalthing reminded himself. Bless Anglic and its lovely ambiguity!
The chim lieutenant took the cube and bowed again at precisely the correct angle for showing bipedal respect to a senior patron ally. Without even looking at the others, he took off at a run toward his courier bike.
One of the civilians, apparently thinking Uthacalthing would not overhear, whispered to his brightly clad colleague. “I hope th’ blue-card pom skids on a mud puddle an’ gets his shiny uniform all wet.”
Uthacalthing pretended not to notice. It sometimes paid to let others believe Tymbrimi hearing was as bad as their eyesight.
“These are for you,” he told the two in the flashy clothes, and he tossed each of them a small bag. The money inside was GalCoin, untraceable and unquestionable through war and turmoil, for it was backed by the contents of the Great Library itself.
The two chims bowed to Uthacalthing, trying to imitate the officer’s precision. He had to suppress a delighted laugh, for he sensed their foci — each chim’s center of consciousness — had gathered in the hand holding the purse, excluding nearly all else from the world.
“Go then, and spend it as you will. I thank you for your past services.”
The two members of Port Helenia’s small criminal underworld spun about and dashed off through the grove. Borrowing another human metaphor, they had been “his eyes and ears” since he had arrived here. No doubt they considered their work completed now.
And thank you for what you are about to do, Uthacalthing thought after them. He knew this particular band of probationers well. They would spend his money well and gain an appetite for more. In a few days, there would be only one source of such coin.
They would have new employers soon, Uthacalthing was sure.
“… have come as friends and protectors of pre-sentient peoples, to see that they are given proper guidance and membership in a dignified clan…”
Only one chim remained, trying to stand as straight as he could. But the poor creature could not help shifting his weight nervously, grinning anxiously.
“And what — ” Uthacalthing stopped abruptly. His tendrils waved and he turned to look out over the sea.
A streak of light appeared from the headland across the bay, spearing up and eastward into the sky. Uthacalthing shaded his eyes, but he did not waste time envying Earthling vision. The glowing ember climbed into the clouds, leaving a kind of trail that only he could detect. It was a shimmering of joyful departure that surged and then faded in a few brief seconds, unraveling with the faint, white contrail.
Oth’thushutn, his aide, secretary, and friend, was flying their ship out through the heart of the battle fleet surrounding Garth. And who could tell? Their Tymbrimi-made craft was specially built. He even might get through.
That was not Oth’thushutn’s job, of course. His task was merely to make the attempt.
Uthacalthing reached forth in kenning. Yes, something did ride down that burst of light. A sparkling legacy. He drew in Oth’thushtn’s final glyph and stored it in a cherished place, should he ever make it home to tell the brave Tym’s loved ones.
Now there were only two Tymbrimi on Garth, and Athaclena was as safe as could be provided for. It was time for Uthacalthing to see to his own fate.
“. . .to rescue these innocent creatures from the warped Uprearing they are receiving at the hands of wolflings and criminals…”
He turned back to the little chim, his last helper. “And what about you, Jo-Jo? Do you want a task, as well?”
Jo-Jo fumbled with the keys of his panel display.
YES, PLEASE
HELP YOU IS ALL I ASK
Uthacalthing smiled. He had to hurry off and meet Kault. By now the Thennanin Ambassador would be nearly frantic, pacing beside Uthacalthing’s pinnace. But the fellow could just wait a few moments more.
“Yes,” he told Jo-Jo. “I think there is something you can do for me. Do you think you can keep a secret?”
The little genetic reject nodded vigorously, his soft brown eyes filled with earnest devotion. Uthacalthing had spent a lot of time with Jo-Jo, teaching him things the schools here on Garth had never bothered to try — wilderness survival skills and how to pilot a simple flitter, for instance. Jo-Jo was not the pride of neo-chimp Uplift, but he had a great heart,
and more than enough of a certain type of cunning that Uthacalthing appreciated.
“Do you see that blue light, atop the cairn, Jo-Jo?”
JO-JO REMEMBERS,
the chim keyed.
JO-JO REMEMBERS ALL YOU SAID.
“Good.” Uthacalthing nodded. “I knew you would. I shall count on you, my dear little friend.” He smiled, and Jo-Jo grinned back, eagerly.
Meanwhile, the computer-generated voice from space droned on, completing the Manifesto of Invasion.
“… and give them over for adoption by some appropriate elder clan — one that will not lead them into improper behavior…”
Wordy birds, Uthacalthing thought. Silly things, really.
“We’ll show them some ‘improper behavior,’ won’t we, Jo-Jo?”
The little chim nodded nervously. He grinned, even though he did not entirely understand.