Major Prathachulthorn nodded after a moment. “Plausible, yes. Nevertheless, we should perform our own investigations before we commit ourselves to acting as if it is true.”

“What’s the matter, major?” Kylie asked. “You don’t like the idea of putting down your phase-burner rifle and picking up bows and arrows?”

Prathachulthorn’s reply was surprisingly mild. “Not at all, ser, so long as the enemy is similarly equipped. The problem lies in the fact that he is not.”

Silence reigned for long moments. No one seemed to have anything to say. The pause ended when Colonel Millchamp returned to the table. He slammed the flat of his hand down. “Either way, what’s the point in waiting?”

Megan frowned. “What do you mean, colonel?”

Millchamp growled. “I mean what good do our forces do down here?” he demanded. “We’re all going slowly stir-crazy. Meanwhile, at this very moment, Earth herself may be fighting for her life!”

“There’s no such thing as this very moment across interstellar space,” Commander Kylie commented. “Simultaneity is a myth. The concept is imbedded in Anglic and other Earth tongues, but—”

“Oh, revert the metaphysics!” Millchamp snapped. “What matters is that we can hurt Earth’s enemies!” He picked up the tree-bark leaves. “Thanks to the guerrillas, we know where the Gubru have placed many of their major planet-based yards. No matter what damned Library-spawned tricks the birds have got up their feathers, they can’t prevent us from launching our flicker-swivvers at them!”

“But—”

“We have three hidden away — there weren’t any used in the space battle, and the Gubru can’t know we have any of ’em. If those missiles are supposed to be good against the Tandu, damn their seven-chambered hearts, they’ll surely suffice for Gubru ground targets!”

“And what good will that do?” Lieutenant McCue asked mildly.

“We can bend a few Gubru beaks! Ambassador Uthacal-thing told us that symbols are important in Galactic warfare. Right now they can pretend that we hardly put up a fight at all. But a symbolic strike, one that hurt them, would tell the whole Five Galaxies that we won’t be pushed around!”

Megan Oneagle pinched the bridge of her nose. She spoke with eyes closed. “I have always found it odd that my Amerindian ancestors’ concept of ‘counting coup’ should have a place in a hypertechnological galaxy.” She looked up. “It may, indeed, come to that, if we can find no other way to be effective.

“But you’ll recall that Uthacalthing also advised patience.” She shook her head. “Please sit down, Colonel Millchamp. Everybody. I’m determined not to throw our strength away in a gesture, not until I know it’s the only thing left to do against the enemy.

“Remember, nearly every human on the planet is hostage on the islands, their lives dependent on doses t›f Gubru antidote. And on the mainland there are the poor chims, for all intents abandoned, alone.”

Along the conference the officers sat downcast. They’re frustrated, Megan thought. And I can’t blame them.

When war had loomed, when they had begun planning ways to resist an invasion, nobody had ever suggested a contingency like this. Perhaps a people more experienced in the sophistications of the Great Library — in the arcane art of war that the aeons-old Galactics knew — might have been better prepared. But the Gubru’s tactics had made a shambles of their modest defense plans.

She had not added her final reason for refusing to sanction a gesture. Humans were notoriously unsophisticated at the game of Galactic punctilio. A blow struck for honor might be bungled, instead giving the enemy excuse for even greater horrors.

Oh, the irony. If Uthacalthing was right, it was a little Earthship, halfway across the Five Galaxies from here, that had precipitated the crisis!

Earthlings certainly did have a knack for making trouble for themselves. They’d always had that talent.

Megan looked up as the small chen from the mainland, Robert’s messenger, approached the table, still wearing his blanket. His dark brown eyes were troubled.

“Yes, Petri?” she asked.

The chim bowed.

“Ma’am, th’ doctor wants me to go to bed now.”

She nodded. “That’s fine, Petri. I’m sure we’ll want to debrief you some more, later… ask you some more questions. But right now you should rest.”

Petri nodded. “Yes’m. Thank you, ma’am. But there was somethin’ else. Somethin’ I’d better tell you while I remember.”

“Yes? What is it?”

The chen looked uncomfortable. He glanced at the watching humans and back at Megan. “It’s personal, ma’am. Somethin’ Captain Oneagle asked me to memorize an’ tell you.”

Megan smiled. “Oh, very well. Will you all excuse me , for a moment, please?”

She walked with Petri over to the far end of the room.

There she sat down to bring her eyes level with the little chim. “Tell me what Robert said.”

Petri nodded. His eyes went unfocused. “Captain Oneagle said to tell you that th’ Tymbrimi Athaclena is actually doin’ most of the organizing for th’ army.”

Megan nodded. She had suspected as much. Robert might have found new resources, new depths, but he was not and never would be a born leader.

Petri went on. “Cap’n Oneagle told me to tell you that it was important that th’ Tymbrimi Athaclena have honorary patron status to our chims, legally.”

Again, Megan nodded. “Smart. We can vote it and send word back.”

But the little chim shook his head. “Uh, ma’am. We couldn’t wait for that. So, uh, I’m supposed to tell you that Captain Oneagle an’ th’ Tymbrimi Athaclena have sealed a … a consort bond … I think that’s what it’s called. I…”

His voice trailed off, for Megan had stood up.

Slowly, she turned to the wall and rested her forehead against the cool stone. That damn fool of a boy! part of her cursed.

It was the only thing they could do, another part answered.

So, now I’m a mother-in-law, the most ironic voice added.

There would certainly be no grandchildren from this union. That was not what interspecies consort marriages were for. But there were other implications.

Behind her, the council debated. Again and again they turned over the options, coming up dry as they had for months now.

Oh, if only Uthacalthing had made it here, Megan thought. We need his experience, his wry wisdom and humor. We could talk, like we used to. And maybe, he could explain to me these things that make a mother feel so lost.

She confessed to herself that she missed the Tymbrimi Ambassador. She missed him more than any of her three husbands and more even, God help her, than she missed her own strange son.

It was fascinating to watch Kault play with a ne’ squirrel, one of the native animals of these southern plains. He coaxed the small creature closer by holding out ripe nuts in his great Thennanin hands. He had been at it for over an hour while they waited out the hot noonday sun under the cover of a thick cluster of thorny bramble.

Uthacalthing wondered at the sight. The universe never seemed about to cease surprising him. Even bluff, oblivious, obvious Kault was a perpetual source of amazement.

Quivering nervously, the ne’ squirrel gathered its courage. It took two more hops toward the huge Thennanin and stretched out its paws. It plucked up one of the nuts.

Astonishing. How did Kault do it?

Uthacalthing rested in the muggy shade. He did not recognize the vegetation here in the uplands overlooking the estuary where his pinnace had come down, but he felt he was growing familiar with the scents, the rhythms, the gently throbbing pain of daily life that surged and flowed through and all around the deceptively quiet glade.

His corona brought him touches from tiny predators, now waiting out the hot part of the day, but soon to resume stalking even smaller prey. There were no large animals, of course, but Uthacalthing kenned a swarm of ground-hugging insectoids grubbing through the detritus nearby, seeking tidbits for their queen.