“Has a Guild vessel returned to that planet since Transit possibility was renewed?”
“No, Guild Voivode. Nor has any Federation ship. But shortly after the nodes re-formed, the Meteorological Survey began detecting oddities in the region, which they eventually pinpointed to that planet’s solar system. They didn’t know what to make of the peculiar data, until they thought to consult with the Federation’s Historiographic Bureau.”
Seeing the Voivode’s increasingly rapid finger-flexing, the Pilot hurried to her conclusion.
“The data indicate that the natives of that planet have recently developed the capacity to manipulate the electromagnetic spectrum. Radio waves, to be precise.”
Agayan’s clusters spread wide with puzzlement.
“Radio? Of what possible use—”
“It is a primitive technique, Guild Voivode. No advanced civilization bothers with radio, but—according to the Historiographic Bureau, at least—the radio portion of the electromagnetic spectrum is typically the first point of entry for civilizations which—”
The significance of the information finally penetrated. Agayan lurched erect.
“Civilization?” he screeched. “Are you trying to claim that these—these human savages have reached the point of industrial chain reaction?”
The Pilot scuttled back on her footskirt. Her color was now so deep a purple as to be almost black.
“I’m not claiming anything, Guild Voivode! I’m just relaying what the—”
“Ridiculous! I know these humans, you fool! They served under me. There is no—no—”
Agayan’s indignation overwhelmed him. He fell silent, fiercely trying to bring his fury under control.
The Investigator interjected itself. “No species in the historical record has reached industrial chain reaction in less than two hundred thousand years since initial habitat domestication,” it stated ponderously. “And none has done so since the last of the Doge Species.”
The Pilot said nothing. She was tempted to point out that the policies of both the Federation and the Guilds were precisely designed to prevent such occurences, but suppressed the whimsy ruthlessly. Foolish, she was not.
Agayan finally restored his calm enough to speak. Icily:
“That is quite enough, Pilot. You may go. This information—this preposterous twaddle, I should say—will be corrected as soon as we reach that planet. Set the course.”
“Yes, Guild Voivode. I have already done so. Your instructions, as always, were very clear and precise.”
Agayan spread his clusters in acknowledgement of the praise. “Send a message to Guild Headquarters informing them that we are Transiting to the human planet.”
The Pilot scuttled out of the chamber as fast as her ungainly form of locomotion permitted.
Agayan resumed his position of rest. “I cannot believe how incompetent some of the Federation’s—”
“Ptatti gattokot poi toi rhuch du! Ptatti gatt!”
All six of Agayan’s clusters knotted in shock. The sheer volume of the Gha commander’s voice had been almost like a physical blow.
The shock deepened. Deepened.
Dazed, the Voivode watched one of the Gha sepoys stride forward from its position against the wall and shatter the Investigator’s spinal cord with a single blow of its fist. Shatter it again. Seize Yuaw Khta’s lolling head and practically twist it in a full circle.
The Voivode could hear the bones break.
Ancestral reflex coiled Agayan into a soft ball. He heard the Gha commander bellowing more phrases in the sepoy language. Two of the Gha immediately left the chamber.
Agayan was utterly paralyzed. He could not even speak. Only watch.
His soft-bodied species, some distant part of his brain noted, did not respond well to physical danger.
Standing in front of him, now, he recognized the figure of the Gha commander.
The Gha spoke to him. He did not understand the words.
The sepoy spoke again. The meaning of the words finally penetrated. Oddly, Agayan was surprised more by the fact of those words than their actual content. He had not realized that Gha could speak Galactic beyond a few crude and simple phrases.
“I said,” repeated the Gha, “do you know my name?”
Paralyzed. Only watch.
The sepoy repeated its question: “Do you know my name, Guild Voivode Agayan?”
The Gha towered above him like an ogre. Immense, heavy-planet muscles coiled over that rangy, vertebrate body. Strength. Leverage. Power.
The other Gha spoke now, also in fluent Galactic: “Just kill him and be done with it.”
The sepoy commander: “Soon enough.” To the Voivode: “Do you know my—ah! No use.”