Like bears, the Wyzhnyny were omnivores despite their fighting teeth. For them, most human foods were digestible and nourishing. Most of them. But Qonits was uneasy. Like humans, the Wyzhnyny had made a science of adapting to exotic worlds. They'd long since learned that if a planet fell within otherwise habitable parameters, they could usually eat many of its plants and most of its higher animals. Eat them safely and beneficially. But there were exceptions. So on a new world they ate rations they'd brought with them, while technicians analyzed and tested a broad spectrum of plants and animals for safety, digestibility and nutrient values. Without that sort of database, this meal involved a modest risk for the chief scholar.

When they'd finished dessert-vaclava, which Qonits found delicious-Foster Peixoto led them to a small conference room. Almost immediately, five humans from War House and the Commonwealth Ministry were ushered in, and the prime minister introduced them to Qonits. "Mr. Ambassador," he said, "we greatly appreciate your courage in coming here. And the courage Grand Admiral Quanshuk displayed in sending you. And finally, the desire for peace shown by you both.

"Before we discuss your mission further, however, there are things you need to know. Please interrupt if I say things you disagree with, or do not understand. Meanwhile I suggest you be seated." He gestured at a large cushion beside the conference table, and Qonits sat down on it like a huge ungainly dog.

"Since you left your flagship," Peixoto went on, "there have been very important developments you need to know about. They are described in a cube I'll play in just a moment." He looked at David. "Is he familiar with what I mean by cube?"

"Yes, sir. They have quite similar technology. And sir, we have cubes sent by Grand Admiral Quanshuk, with a player designed to play them. One of them contains the Terran/Wyzhnynyc translation program. Another has a Wyzhnynyc/Terran program based on it, which hasn't been tested. The third is a message to the president and yourself, recorded by the grand admiral, and translated by his shipsmind. If you'd take time to hear it… "

The prime minister cut him short. "Thank you, Mr. MacDonald. For now we'll proceed as I'd planned, and hear the grand admiral's message later." He looked at Qonits. "The reason will become clear." He glanced at the others around the table. "Now if you will put your attention on the wall screen, please."

The humans swiveled their chairs-Qonits already nearly faced it-and Peixoto touched his key pad. A freeze frame appeared on the screen, showing a dark-complected youth lying on a couch, seemingly asleep. "Mr. Ambassador," Peixoto said, "this young man is my savant communicator. When I run the recording, you will hear him speak. In several voices. He is analogous to a radio, but channels over interstellar distances"-he paused meaningfully-"over interstellar distances with no elapsed time. None. And what he will say is a duplication of conversations on board your flagship. Do you understand so far?"

Qonits nodded uncertainly. Interstellar distances? No elapsed time? The words seemed clear enough, but impossible.

"Good," Peixoto said, and pressed another key. Ramesh's mouth moved, and words came from the speaker-the fitness board proceedings, as hybridized and channeled by Annika Pedersen. None of the listeners spoke. David MacDonald's jaw went slack. He understood almost none of the Wyzhnynyc, but the rest…

Initially Qonits stiffened, but as the hearing progressed, he wilted. When the replay was over, it was the president who spoke, his voice soft. "Mr. Ambassador," he said, "we realize what a shock this has been to you. You have my profound sympathy."

Again the chief scholar gave the Wyzhnyny equivalent of a nod, saying nothing. Except for the first few seconds, he'd had little difficulty with its hybridized content. The Wyzhnynyc diction, and the sense of speaker identity, had been reproduced surprisingly well.

When it was over, he simply sat, and after a long moment spoke, aware that the humans had been waiting.

"Is there more? There must be more."

Chang nodded. "Yes. We have no record of the later proceedings, but we do have a recording of something else that seems important." He paused, turning. "Those of you from War House and Cee Ministry, please go to the waiting room. What follows is personal. I'll call you back shortly."

David watched frowning as they left. What was this about? Qonits waited numbly. When they were alone with the president and prime minister, Chang nodded, and Peixoto played the next section, the one in which Yukiko was questioned. It left little doubt: Annika, and almost surely Yukiko, were dead. David MacDonald was pale and stony as marble.

"David, we are terribly sorry," Chang said quietly. Peixoto said nothing at all; didn't trust his control. David's nod was wooden. I should have known it would come to that, he thought. It was inevitable. All of it. This mission was a charade, by an admiral trying to convince himself, and two fools who wanted to believe.

After half a minute, the president spoke again. "I will call the others back in now. There are questions that must be looked at." The people from War House and the Commonwealth Ministry had heard the entire cube before. He'd sent them out as a courtesy to David, in case he broke down.

They did not question Qonits at length, but they did play Quanshuk's cube. Then they reviewed possibilities they'd discussed before, and the conclusions they'd drawn, asking Qonits for clarifications, and his opinions. The chief scholar's comments were brief but informative.

Peixoto's closing comment was to Qonits: "Mr. Ambassador, your grand admiral was correct in believing we prefer negotiation to war. We do not wish to destroy your people, nor be destroyed by them. When your fleet has been smashed, perhaps the survivors will agree to terms. Then you will have a major role in this."

Peixoto didn't actually lie, but he didn't imagine that terms could be agreed on, even assuming that Soong's Commos won the battle to come. For he knew things that Qonits still did not. The armada had stopped very briefly in the fringes of two more inhabited systems, departing quickly without attacking, leaving only their emergence signatures. Clearly, Charley had been right: They'd decided to postpone further conquests, and were inbound with the intention of forcing a showdown, a final battle. Given their new rate of progress, they'd reach the Eridani System in about three weeks. The Eridani System had a home-grown population of nearly two billion, a bevy of universities, burgeoning industries-and millions of colonial evacuees, armed and more or less trained.

Soong and his Commos would be there, waiting with reinforcements, and Charley Gordon was refining a strategy and tactics to include the new spook drones, whose functions were deception and confusion.

With the new weapons and Charley Gordon, there was still a chance. The Admiralty thought so and Soong thought so. The Altai's shipsmind rated it one in four, and War House's AI agreed. Charley Gordon rated it even. "Wait and see," he'd said. "If we survive the first phase, we will beat them."

Peixoto had never known Charley Gordon to fool himself, but in this situation he might. Because this will be the final battle, Peixoto told himself, with everything at stake. And it is on Charley's shoulders. The pressure will not break him, but it might bend his judgement.

Chang, on the other hand, believed the Tao wanted humanity to survive, and therefore that it would. And of course if all else failed, there was Project Noah.

David and Qonits sat in the palace guest suite they shared, neither speaking at first. Finally David suggested they have something to drink, something alcoholic, and diagrammed the ethanol molecule, elaborating. Qonits nodded. Ethanol was the active ingredient in most Wyzhnyny liquors. Then David asked their marine orderly to send for dark rum.