Jaza studied her. “In other words,” he suggested, “what matters about a being is not what she did in the past…but what she does in the present, and in the future.”
She stared at him. “That…is not quite what I meant.”
“Maybe it should’ve been.”
“But…what can I do in the present and future to atone for—”
“Ah!” He held up a hand. “As it is, not as it was.”
She acquiesced. “What can I do in the present and future?”
Jaza smiled. “Well, you’ve asked the question. That’s always the best place to start.”
Chapter Sixteen
CLAN AQ’TRI’HHE LEAD SKYMOUNT, STARDATE 57211.9
This time, Qui’hibra had anticipated that the Conclave’s vote would not go his way. Not only had Riker’s plan apparently failed, but the membership of this Conclave was somewhat different from the first; they had moved closer to the heart of the starbirth zone, where there were more fleet-clans in range to join. The newcomers had not been swayed by his or Riker’s arguments at the previous session—and the vote there had been narrow even with that persuasion. Additionally, there was the information Oderi had brought him, courtesy of her fellow Rianconi, who were ubiquitous, often ignored and always listening. “Hunter Se’hraqua has been speaking to many elders and family heads since our return, Elder,” she had told him not long before the Conclave assembled. “Most are those who voted with us the last time. He has been trying to persuade them to approve aggressive action against Titan.”
Qui’hibra was aware of the proposal to take Titan’s sensor information by force. Still, he had said to her, “I know he is discontented, but I question whether he would act against his own elder so overtly. It would undermine what little status he has left.”
“Unless he had the backing of another elder, sir. He has been seen repeatedly with Elder Aq’hareq.” Aq’hareq! A hunter so stubborn, tough and sour that Death itself had taken a taste and spit out the rest more than once. A fierce traditionalist who would never accept any of Riker’s compromises. If he was guiding Se’hraqua, taking the youth’s undeniable passion and eloquence and giving it focus, then there was indeed cause for concern.
So once the Conclave convened, it came as no surprise when Aq’hareq proposed aggressive action and Se’hraqua rose to second it. “We have been told,” the youth said, “that the skymounts’ new knowledge of our existence, their new ability to sweep us from our mounts and leave us to die in space, means that we must abandon the Hunt. That we must turn our backs on millennia of tradition, on the one act that defines who we are as a people. I do not accept this!” Aq’hareq could have been making this case himself, but he was apparently content to use Se’hraqua as his stalking-horse. After all, everyone already knew where he would stand, so for him to say it would be unnecessary. It would carry more weight from a new quarter, especially from one of Qui’hibra’s own juniors, for that would undermine his position.
“These new developments,” Se’hraqua went on, “are simply a new challenge to be overcome. Yes, they increase the danger of the Hunt. But we are Pa’haquel! Do we fear danger? Do we fear death? No! It is the danger that gives the Hunt meaning! It is by risking our own lives that we earn the right to take other lives, by dying that we repay the Spirit for letting us kill. Thus is the holy balance preserved.”
“Do you say we were not in balance before?” Qui’hibra challenged. “We faced risk there as well. Even though the skymounts did not attack us, they could flee, or their armor could prove too strong. And failure in the Hunt could bring death.” Even as he said it, though, it sounded hollow. The truth was, the Pa’haquel had held an unfair advantage over the skymounts. As a pragmatist, he had been satisfied with that; but a part of him had never truly accepted the rationalizations he made now, feeling that their advantage belied their claims of reverence toward the skymounts. On some level he had to wonder if Se’hraqua was right, if facing the mounts in a truly fair battle would do them more honor. He could tell that his voice was not convincing, for he was no politician.
“Certainly that was so once,” Se’hraqua countered, surprising Qui’hibra with his diplomacy. Aq’hareq had coached him well. “But perhaps we have grown too skilled, too experienced. It has become too easy to kill skymounts, and we have grown complacent. That is why the Spirit sent us this challenge.”
“We have no shortage of challenges, as any survivor of the Hounding can tell you.” That, at least, he could say with conviction, and it reminded him of why battling livemounts able to defend themselves was not a practical course. “If we throw away too many lives, lose too many mounts in trying to take new ones, then we will be weakened for the other hunts, less able to keep the chaos at bay.”
“Only if we are as weak and unsuccessful as you assume, Elder. If we rise to this challenge, yes, we will lose hunters and mounts, but the ones that survive will be stronger and fiercer than before. We will be hardened by the fire, and we will not have to suffer losses as severe as we sustained in the recent Hounding and brancher battle.”
It was a good strategy, Qui’hibra realized: to capitalize on the elders’ loss and pain, to promise them that it would not have to come again. But it also opened a weakness which Qui’hibra was quick to exploit. “How dare you say that all those brave hunters were lost due to weakness and complacency? They fell only because the prey was mighty.”
“Or because there were too few of them,” said Aq’hareq. “Where were you for the Hounding, Qui’hibra?”
“I tried to reach it in time!” he shot back, furious. “We had taken too many losses. I was trying to rebuild our forces for the Hounding, but we were impeded.”
“By the interference of Titan!”Se’hraqua cried. “A ship which you could have destroyed easily. Many of us pleaded with you to do so, Elder. Our own beloved matriarch advised you to destroy them! Instead you dallied with them and indulged them, and we were cheated of our chance for glory in the Hounding!”
“Is this true, Matriarch Qui’chiri?” Aq’hareq asked cagily—a question he would not have asked had he not already known the answer.
Qui’chiri had no choice. She could not lie to a venerable elder, and Qui’hibra would not forgive her if she did. “I did advise Titan’s destruction, Elder.” A murmur rippled through the chamber. “But we could not have reached the Hounding in time even without Titan’s involvement, and any claim to the contrary is a lie!” The murmur grew louder, but fortunately Qui’chiri spoke over it rather than letting the Conclave grow distracted by the accusation. “And I now see that destroying Titanwould have been unwise! They did not intend what happened, and they are our best chance to remedy it.”
“Indeed they are,” came Aq’hareq’s smug reply. “And we would not want their ship destroyed now—for only by taking it intact can we retrieve the knowledge we need from its computers, or extract it from its crew.” A cruel laugh ran through the Conclave at the thought of how such extractions might be performed.
“The knowledge we need to do what?” Qui’hibra countered. “To resume hunting skymounts, to put everything back the way it was? That is a naïve hope. I understand the desire to go back to the ways we are used to. I share it. Tradition brings us comfort and certainty, and it is always easier to cling to it than to pursue change. But Riker was right—that which does not adapt does not survive. The balance haschanged, and we cannot restore it by trying to force it backward. We must find a new solution.”