Part 8 (1/2)

”Thank the human who saved you,” said Raargh-Sergeant. He had better start getting on good terms with the monkeys quickly. He had better start getting on good terms with the monkeys quickly. ”He is called Jorg” ”He is called Jorg”

”Is that its name? Does the human have a name?”

”That is what he is called.” Jorg looked unhappy. A human who insisted it had a name, except for the convenience of telling it apart from other humans, would have had a short life and an unpleasant one a few days before. Raargh-Sergeant realized that in their last few words, Jorg had indeed omitted to address him by his own partial Name, which a few days previously would have been an equally fatal breach of human-to-kzin etiquette.

”Thank you, Jorg, for saving me,” said the kitten in its still high, warbling voice. ”I shall not forget,” it added with some memory of regal manner. Jorg made the prostration again.

Dust particles flashed and fell in a shower of tiny jewels. A bar of green lit a cloud of drifting smoke. A laser blast shattered one of the pinnacles on the chapel tower. The brickwork of the wall erupted as sh.e.l.ls struck it. Raargh-Sergeant recognized the coughing of one of the super-Bofors guns that the feral humans had secretly fabricated in the hills.

A section of the wall bulged and collapsed with a roar, burying the two abandoned cars. No strakakkers yet, and possibly not even aimed at us, No strakakkers yet, and possibly not even aimed at us, he thought, as chunks of rubble bounced past. ”Inside! Quick!” he ordered. As he herded them under the archway and into the building, the kzinti attack car, its molecular-distortion battery's containment field apparently ruptured, went up in white light behind them, scattering stone. He thanked the Fanged G.o.d that there had been almost no charge left. The whole monastery might have been levelled otherwise. he thought, as chunks of rubble bounced past. ”Inside! Quick!” he ordered. As he herded them under the archway and into the building, the kzinti attack car, its molecular-distortion battery's containment field apparently ruptured, went up in white light behind them, scattering stone. He thanked the Fanged G.o.d that there had been almost no charge left. The whole monastery might have been levelled otherwise.

And then he realized: Our weapons were in that! Our weapons were in that! He was in command. He should have seen to it that they were returned to the Mess, in the absence of an officer. Another thought came to him, distorted by bitterness: He was in command. He should have seen to it that they were returned to the Mess, in the absence of an officer. Another thought came to him, distorted by bitterness: No wonder the monkeys have won this war No wonder the monkeys have won this war.

Above, a formation of human aircraft hurtled by in victory rolls. Nothing remained in the sky to challenge them.

Chapter 2.

The others had their wtsais wtsais, but that was all, apart from some trophy blades on the wall. Now the naked defenselessness of the place, their lack of weapons, hit him like a physical blow.

A normal kzin would take on any number of humans in hand-to-hand fighting and tear them to pieces until his strength gave out, which would normally not be before the last tree-swinger had been dismantled, but these were wounded crocks, and the monkeys had heavy weapons. A long-silent television the humans had kept behind the bar suddenly blared into life. It could only receive human channels and he had forgotten it. Deliberately, he smashed it with a stroke of his claws. He did not want scenes of monkey triumphs to inflame and provoke what for want of better he must call his ”garrison.” He placed the newcomers at side windows, instructing them to keep watch. A fine addition to our strength, A fine addition to our strength, he thought he thought. A kitten and a trained monkey. Though the temple bells were still ringing in the distance and once he heard the whirr of a strakakker and a scream, it sounded as if things were becoming quieter outside. He could hear human voices gathering. Though the temple bells were still ringing in the distance and once he heard the whirr of a strakakker and a scream, it sounded as if things were becoming quieter outside. He could hear human voices gathering.

”What is happening?” asked Bursar in his high, cracked voice.

”Be silent, old fool!” A scream from Orderly, whose nerves had, it seemed, become unequal to the strain. ”Sthondat-begotten!” (One, and especially if one was Nameless, did not insult any any Conservor, ever.) ”Let us strive to hear!” Conservor, ever.) ”Let us strive to hear!”

”Insolence!” Conservors were awesome in their self-control, but such words from such a being were too much. Bursar reared up as if he had been struck a physical blow.

Orderly screamed and leapt. But if Bursar was ancient and nearly blind, his wtsai wtsai was swift. The two orange bodies rolled across the floor, slas.h.i.+ng and shrieking. The terrified human servants leapt (creditable leaps for humans) onto the top of the refrigeration unit and clung there as the claws and mono-molecular-edged steel blades whirled. One of the kzinti Computer Experts, abstracted and slow of reflex for a kzin, was struck. He grabbed his was swift. The two orange bodies rolled across the floor, slas.h.i.+ng and shrieking. The terrified human servants leapt (creditable leaps for humans) onto the top of the refrigeration unit and clung there as the claws and mono-molecular-edged steel blades whirled. One of the kzinti Computer Experts, abstracted and slow of reflex for a kzin, was struck. He grabbed his wtsai wtsai with a scream and leapt into the fray. with a scream and leapt into the fray.

Raargh-Sergeant would not normally have interfered in a duel-kzintosh traded insults knowing the consequences-but this was pointless madness, and triggered by no real injury but by an explosion of unbearable tension. And every Hero was needed at his post. He kicked at the great bulks, knocking them apart. Bleeding from several deep gashes (kzinti arterial and venous blood varied in color between purple and orange), they staggered apart. Computer Expert was down, curled round a belly wound that Raargh-Sergeant saw at once was too deep. Still, as a fighter he was little loss.

Two hard swift blows of his prosthetic arm knocked the wtsais wtsais from the grips of the other two. He was aware of Lesser-Sergeant and First-Corporal at his side, their own from the grips of the other two. He was aware of Lesser-Sergeant and First-Corporal at his side, their own wtsais wtsais levelled. levelled. Discipline is still holding Discipline is still holding, he thought. Once I would have swum into that fight with a scream and leap of my own. Or am I getting too old on top of everything else Once I would have swum into that fight with a scream and leap of my own. Or am I getting too old on top of everything else?

”No more. I decree Honor is satisfied. There are enemies enough for us all outside the gate without Heroes killing Heroes today.”

They glared at him for a moment and then their eyes seemed to clear. Perhaps the sheer physical weakness and general exhaustion of all those present were what saved the situation. He felt Lesser-Sergeant and Corporal relax at his side as the tension ebbed. They too lowered their wtsais wtsais. Lesser-Sergeant, with two human bullets and a half-heeled ratchet-knife wound in one knee, still shedding bone, had made a standing leap the entire length of the Mess to attend him. A useful companion, Lesser-Sergeant A useful companion, Lesser-Sergeant, he thought, he moves fast and keeps his head he moves fast and keeps his head. May I call him friend? Corporal too May I call him friend? Corporal too. I need kzintosh like that now, and so do all our kind need them on this G.o.d-forsaken day I need kzintosh like that now, and so do all our kind need them on this G.o.d-forsaken day. He remembered them both in the Battle of the Hohe Kalkstein, and was grateful now, as he had been then, that he had them at his side. He saw too that the youngster was there. He had placed himself before Raargh-Sergeant's right leg, where he would have been a nuisance and hindrance if Raargh-Sergeant had had to leap, but which was also the place a warrior-son traditionally stood to defend an Honored Sire in closed-room combat. Where my own son would have stood Where my own son would have stood, he thought. Had he survived he would have been old enough to be a useful warrior now Had he survived he would have been old enough to be a useful warrior now.

”Junior Doctor, attend to them.”

That would be a challenging task for Junior Doctor in his present condition, but he could contrive something. Computer Expert at least knew enough of Duty to die quietly, without sound effects to further demoralize or inflame the others or appeals for painkillers or medication from their limited stock to be wasted on him. Conservor was chanting the rites over him.

”Humans!” He ordered the s.h.i.+vering slaves, ”Clean!” The sooner the smell of kzinti blood was out of the air the better. The air was filled with the frustrated emotions of a duel cut short. He saw that one of Bursar's fangs was snapped, and Orderly's arm hung useless, a tendon cut. One dead and one less sound limb between us, when we have too few to go around already. At this rate the monkeys need but hold back and let us finish ourselves off. I wonder what they mean to do? One dead and one less sound limb between us, when we have too few to go around already. At this rate the monkeys need but hold back and let us finish ourselves off. I wonder what they mean to do?

If I were a monkey, what would I do now? he thought, and the answer came instantly: Kill us Kill us. It was so obvious as not to need debate. But the monkeys were strange. Even after two generations plus of occupation and after Chuut-Riit had ordered a systematic study of them, late in the war, they had remained full of oddities. The few kzin on Wunderland who had developed relations.h.i.+ps with monk-with humans humans, as games partners, as co-investigators of scientific or technological problems, or computer experts, had tended to be oddities themselves. The sort who died young unless some special talent made them worth preserving. Some kzin had complained of the increasing survival and even rudimentary prestige of those whom the monkeys described as komputerr-nirrrds komputerr-nirrrds, itself yet another monkey loan-phrase which on Ka'as.h.i.+ Ka'as.h.i.+ had entered the Heroes' Tongue. had entered the Heroes' Tongue.

Now the humans, instead of proceeding to extermination, had offered a cease-fire.

Well, he thought again, he thought again, we, or rather our grandfathers, offered we, or rather our grandfathers, offered them them a cease-fire when we conquered this planet. Let a lot of them go, to carry the news of us back to Sol System. We wanted slaves and food, and we didn't want to smash up an industrialized infrastructure. Is that how they think of us now? Slaves and food? a cease-fire when we conquered this planet. Let a lot of them go, to carry the news of us back to Sol System. We wanted slaves and food, and we didn't want to smash up an industrialized infrastructure. Is that how they think of us now? Slaves and food?

He remembered that some feral humans had made a point of eating kzin flesh, but when captured and examined had revealed that they had done it as a gesture only and did not really like the taste.

Apparently we mistook things from the first. We wanted Sol to know the terror of our Name and thought the news of us would terrify the human homeworlds. Sire told me of Grandsire's tales, and how as the First Fleet approached Sol System and the monkey s.h.i.+ps rose to meet it, it was thought they were bearing tribute. Those First Fleet Heroes were, amid the satisfaction and the antic.i.p.ation of easy wealth, disappointed to be deprived of a fight. Then came the giant laser beams, the blizzards of slag from the ma.s.s-drivers, the bomb-missiles and the reaction-drive cannon . . . There was rejoicing, Grandsire said, when it was realized the monkeys were actually going to give us a fight! . . . Rejoicing, for a long time . . .

He paced to the door, looked out. There were six humans posted at the gate still. They were carrying weapons in stiff, unnatural positions.

The feral humans will probably have those guns off them quickly, he thought, and remembering the monitor screen, he thought, and remembering the monitor screen, and then the heads off them too. and then the heads off them too. He wondered how kzin would react to other kzin who had acted as agents of conquering aliens. But the situation was too far outside kzinti experience to imagine. He wondered how kzin would react to other kzin who had acted as agents of conquering aliens. But the situation was too far outside kzinti experience to imagine. At least it has been so far At least it has been so far, he thought with bitter pessimism, it may not be for much longer it may not be for much longer. Time to act. There was the human.

”Jorg, those trained monk-human-soldiers are under your command, are they not? H'rr.”

”Yes, Raargh-Sergeant, for the moment.”

”Do you think their weapons should be inspected?”

”Oh . . . I see. Yes, Raargh-Sergeant! As you think best!”

”Lesser-Sergeant!” He barked in the imperative tense.

Lesser-Sergeant had been badly burnt in a falling aircar. Kzinti military medicine, functioning well until recently, had saved him and though after weeks in a doc his fur has not all regrown and his tail was a twisted stump, apart from his leg wounds more recently acquired, he was now one of the fitter and more complete Heroes present. He was also one of the more impressive-looking.

”Command me, Raargh-Sergeant!”

”Those loyal monk-humans at the gate are under our Jorg-human's command. It is time they were inspected. We may have to show them how to maintain their weapons. Come!”

There were now five loyal humans at the gate. They were trembling as the kzin approached. We do terrify them We do terrify them, thought Raargh-Sergeant. He had always known, in a sense, that he terrified humans. That was as it should be, part of the natural order of things. Yet this realization had a novel taste to it.

There had been no non-feral human on Wunderland, whatever its position in the monkey hierarchy, but abased itself before the humblest kzin. He had hunted humans, ferals and criminals in the public hunts, and seen their eyes roll up and their bodies collapse in terror when he had run them down. He had all his life taken human slaves and monkeymeat for granted. But now the thought, so long a taken-for-granted fact of life, was somehow new and uncomfortable. If we terrify them, what will they do to us? If we terrify them, what will they do to us?

”Weapons inspection!” he growled.

They handed over the guns quickly enough. This was still a place where a human would not disobey a kzin, let alone a kzin like Raargh-Sergeant with his size and scars and a large collection of kzinti and human ears dried and hanging at his belt.

Kzinti side arms, heavy for humans. Even with one arm and a basic prosthesis, Raargh-Sergeant could heft one easily. Full charge. Lesser-Sergeant and Jorg collected the others. In the small gatehouse were a pair of heavier squad weapons mounted on tripods and some spare charges.

”Filthy!” He spat, as he had so often spat at kzinti troopers. ”Disgracefully neglected! These weapons are the property of the Patriarchy! There should be disciplinary action!”

Jorg stepped forward.

”Your punishment is a severe one,” he told the other humans. ”You are dismissed from the forces of the Wunderland Government! Get rid of those uniforms! Get away while you can!”

”Perhaps you should join them,” said Raargh-Sergeant, as they watched the five humans racing off into the smoke, struggling out of their costumes even as they ran.

”No, my face is too well-known. And besides, I have responsibilities.”

”Responsibilities?”

”I am still part of the human government that has tried to hold things together. I speak and understand the Heroes' Tongue well for a human and I know some Heroes. I still might be able to do something to help reduce the chaos and violence.”