Advance-by-oscillation. Why did I not see it before this moment? I have been a fool!
He was still staring at Ullwa. She, for her part, was straining every muscle to remain quietly and safely neutral. But then her body and mind betrayed her and he realized profound-admiration had crept into her limbs. A posture which was certainly not being bestowed upon him.
It was too much to bear. With an incoherent cry, his massive muscles surged, snapping her neck as easily as if she had been human. Then he lurched back onto his feet. The ship’s engines thrummed through the hull as he gazed down at the lifeless body.
Aille would follow “his own vithrik,” would he? As if there could ever be two equally proper courses of action in a situation, rather than one best!
He shoved aside—drove under—that decrepit ancient part of his mind that nattered at him about tactics. It was all nonsense. The Naukra Krith Ludh would never condone such disrespect.
Surely not. Long ago, Narvo had been granted oudh status here, first among all kochan on Terra. By refusing to follow orders, Aille had placed Pluthrak firmly in the wrong. Oppuk could demand a price for this insubordination, not the least of which would be Aille krinnu ava Pluthrak’s life. He would see Pluthrak itself shamed in the bargain.
He was breathing more easily now, relaxing again. Still, that annoying part of his mind chattered at him, but he ignored it completely.
All that assumed, of course, that the crecheling survived the Ekhat attack on the planet. Oppuk thought it extremely unlikely, but rather hoped the fool did. It would be so much more entertaining to accept his life before an assembly of high-status Jao than to hear he had perished and his ashes were mingled with whatever was left of this lost world.
But, either way, Terra would be no more, Aille krinnu ava Pluthrak would be dead, and Pluthrak’s precious vithrik would be forsworn—all outcomes very pleasant to anticipate.
His satisfaction ebbed a bit, as his eyes fell on the corpse of Ullwa again. Now he had no servitors left who were even half-competent.
Though, now that he thought about it, Ullwa had not been a servitor. She had been a member of his personal service. The only one left, in fact.
Odd, that he should have forgotten that.
* * *
Caitlin, unlike the others, had not left immediately to carry out Aille’s orders. “I need to be able to pass along more general guidelines to my father,” she said after Tully had gone. “Organizing the children to be taken into the shelters is clear enough. But there’s much more that will need to be done. The Jao administrative officials are now either in orbit with Oppuk or in the shelters. Even the ones in the shelters, by the time they get back to their posts, will be too few to handle everything.”
Aille’s head was cocked in some posture she couldn’t quite read. Careful-consideration, perhaps, or subdued-disapproval? It seemed years since she’d had enough sleep and she felt utterly adrift.
“You are correct,” he said finally, ears changing mood too rapidly for her to read. “Contact your parent in my name and communicate our proposed plan of action.” He hesitated, his body all deliberation. “Tell him to assume command of the continent—and have him tell the other human regional authorities to do the same, on their continents and areas. That includes command over whatever jinau forces are stationed there. He and the other regional authorities can report to Hami, who will be serving as my assistant—and then, after I leave with the warships, as my representative on the entire planet. I do not have time to take direct command myself and the human authorities will be more useful and adept at close supervision in any event.”
Surprised, she spread her arms in willingness-to-be-of-use, struggling to hide her reaction. The jinau were a large, highly trained and well equipped army, a third of them stationed in North America. A force more than enough to change the balance of power on this world. Oppuk would never have turned authority over them to human officials. What did Aille mean by this?