"But they were still anchored at their cuttings watching the Humans," Thrr-gilag reminded him. "But you have a point. Very well. Inform Ship Commander Zbb-rundgi that I've reversed my decision and that the pyramid is to be taken back home. And tell him we'll leave as soon as it's aboard."

"I obey," Chrr't-ogdano said, looking more than a little relieved.

He vanished. Alone again, Thrr-gilag stood up, pressing the edge of his tongue hard against the inside of his mouth as he draped the restraint suit across his shoulders. So here they were again: the Zhirrzh at war with yet another new alien race. Aliens who, like all the others who had gone before them, had attacked them on sight. Aliens with powerful explosive missiles and small but vicious fighter warcraft, who used Elderdeath weapons with a free hand. Aliens who owned twenty-four worlds, against eighteen worlds of their own, who held at least eight other alien races under their domination.

Aliens who wielded the terrifying weapon Pheylan Cavanagh had described for him. The awful killing device called CIRCE.

Fortunately, he didn't have to wonder in similar darkness. Ship Commander Zbb-rundgi had quietly instructed everyone aboard—unofficially, of course—to ostracize the young upstart searcher who had allowed the Human prisoner to escape and, probably more important, had treated the ship commander's advice with perceived contempt. But neither Nzz-oonaz nor Svv-selic seemed interested in taking the order seriously, and they kept Thrr-gilag up-to-date on the progress of the Zhirrzh expeditionary forces currently in Human space.

The Elders' reports were sparse but generally favorable. On all three Human target worlds the defending warriors appeared to have been taken by surprise, though that hadn't stopped them from counterattacking with their explosive missiles and Elderdeath weapons. But they'd been routed, usually after only a tentharc or two of fighting, fleeing out into wilderness areas. Beachheads had been established and encirclement forces deployed in orbit, and now it was largely a matter of securing the territory and waiting to see how the Humans would respond to this returning of the war to their gatestep.

If this was, in fact, merely a turning of the war back on its creators.

It was a disturbing thought, and one which occupied the corners of Thrr-gilag's mind throughout the voyage. He trusted the Elders, certainly, and the Elders' report had stated unequivocally that at that first contact the Humans had been the aggressors. But at the same time, Thrr-gilag found it hard simply to ignore the words of Pheylan Cavanagh, who seemed to have been equally convinced that it was the Far Searcher and the other Zhirrzh survey ships which had fired first.

Probably the Human was lying. Almost certainly the Human was lying. But still, a thin edge of doubt remained. Thrr-gilag could only hope that when he got to Oaccanv, he would be able to erase that edge.

"All rise and prepare for service," the intoning voice of the chamber hailer boomed out. The words echoed faintly from the loudspeakers throughout the huge room, an echo quickly drowned out by the scuffling of a thousand Zhirrzh rising from their couches. "The Overclan Seating of the Zhirrzh people is now in session," the hailer called over the noise. "All honor the Overclan Prime."

Behind the podium the doors swung open, and the Overclan Prime stepped into view. For a few beats he stood in the doorway, silently surveying the crowded chamber. Then, holding aloft a kavra fruit for all to see, he sliced through it twice in the ancient ritual of openness and trust. Placing the lacerated fruit on the low table beside the door, he wiped his fingers on a cleaning cloth and continued forward. He walked between the two shrines—the larger, in standard white ceramic, for the general Overclan family; the smaller, of carved black stone, for the Overclan Primes themselves—nodding with respect to each as he passed. "I greet the Speakers of the Thousand Clans," he said, seating himself on his couch and gesturing for the Speakers to do the same. "We are met to consider the disturbing events of four fullarcs ago that necessitated the evacuation of Base World Twelve. Searcher Thrr-gilag, Kee'rr; Searcher Svv-selic, Too'rr; Searcher Nzz-oonaz, Flii'rr: step forward."

His two colleagues beside him, Thrr-gilag walked up to the witness box beside the podium, the sweet-sour aftertaste of the poison-neutralizing kavra juice mixing with the acid nervousness on his tongue as he tried to read something—anything—from the Prime's expression. Hoping to get some idea where the titular leader of the Zhirrzh race stood on all this.

But the Prime's face was a mask. And small wonder. For five hundred cyclics, ever since the founding of the Overclan Seating, this family-without-a-clan had given its sons and daughters to live and work in the sprawling complex that served the Overclan, its members allied to no one, beholden to no one, favoring no one, opposing no one. No Zhirrzh could have risen through those select ranks to become Overclan Prime without long ago learning how to bury all personal thoughts and prejudices deeply within him.

"Searcher Thrr-gilag," the Prime said, those deep eyes boring into him. "As designated speaker of the alien specialist group on Base World Twelve, you bear the ultimate responsibility for the events of four fullarcs ago. Events that resulted in the escape of the Human prisoner of war, the evacuation of an importantly placed Zhirrzh base, and the raising of eight Zhirrzh to Eldership. We have read your reports, along with the comments and opinions of your communicators and those Elders who were assisting in your studies. Now we wish to hear your thoughts."

And my excuses? Thrr-gilag wondered. But again the Prime's face gave him no clue as to what the other might be thinking. "You have heard the facts of the incident," he said, forcing himself to look out at the rows and rows of clan Speakers gazing back at him. The Speakers, and the hazy cloud of silent Elders that filled the domed ceiling above the couches. "The Human prisoner was able to block the sensors of his obedience suit with mud," he continued, "and was able to seize both myself and one of my technics before we could move away. He held us as shields against the warriors and demanded entry to the newly arrived alien spacecraft."

"And did you so fear Eldership that you called off the warriors?" a voice growled from the first row of couches.

Thrr-gilag focused on him. It was a very well-known face: Cvv-panav, Speaker of the powerful Dhaa'rr clan. "I did not fear Eldership, Speaker," he said. "Indeed, I'd already risked that result by ordering the warriors to use flashblind weapons against the Human. They proved ineffective."

"Then you should have ordered them to use lasers," Cvv-panav insisted.

"Perhaps," Thrr-gilag said. "I agree, the situation was potentially dangerous. But I also saw in it a way to gain valuable information."

Cvv-panav sniffed. "We were already gaining valuable information—"

"The Speaker for Dhaa'rr will be silent," the Prime interrupted mildly. "What information do you refer to, Searcher Thrr-gilag?"

"The alien spacecraft had been damaged during its capture," Thrr-gilag said. "Zhirrzh observers had watched as its crew brought it to a landing, but that crew had been severely injured, and it was not known how long they would survive. It occurred to me that if we allowed the Human aboard the craft, our Elders would be able to see how the flight sequence was initiated. I therefore gave the order to allow him access to the craft."

"A dangerous risk," one of the other Speakers said. "And for so slight a gain. Our warrior searchers would surely have been able to learn the craft's secrets."