Consider Phlebas

neutral state.

Xoralundra's head went slowly from side to side between the edges of the suit collar. It was a gesture Horza had never fully translated, although he had worked for the Idirans and known Xoralundra well since before the war.

'Anyway. You are alive,' Xoralundra said. Horza nodded and drummed his fingers on the table to show he agreed. He wished the Idiran chair he was perched on didn't make him feel so much like a child; his feet weren't even touching the deck.

'Just. Thanks, anyway. I'm sorry I dragged you all the way in here to rescue a failure.'

'Orders are orders. I personally am glad we were able to. Now I must tell you why we received those orders.'

Horza smiled and looked away from the old Idiran, who had just given him something of a compliment; a rare thing. He looked back and watched the other being's wide mouth — big enough, thought Horza, to bite off both your hands at once — as it boomed out the precise, short words of the Idiran language.

'You were once with a caretaker mission on Schar's World, one of the Dra'Azon Planets of the Dead,' Xoralundra stated. Horza nodded. 'We need you to go back there.'

'Now?' Horza said to the broad, dark face of the Idiran. 'There are only Changers there. I've told you I won't impersonate another Changer. I certainly won't kill one.'

'We are not asking you to do that. Listen while I explain.' Xoralundra leant on his back-rest in a way almost any vertebrate — or even anything like a vertebrate — would have called tired. 'Four standard days ago,' the Idiran began — then his suit helmet, which was lying on the floor near his feet, let out a piercing whine. He picked up the helmet and set it on the table. 'Yes?' he said, and Horza knew enough about the Idiran voice to realise that whoever was bothering the Querl had better have a good reason for doing so.

'We have the Culture female,' a voice said from the helmet.

'Ahh…' Xoralundra said quietly, sitting back. The Idiran equivalent of a smile — mouth pursing, eyes narrowing — passed over his features. 'Good, Captain. Is she aboard yet?'

'No, Querl. The shuttle is a couple of minutes out. I'm withdrawing the gun-platforms. We are ready to leave the system as soon as they are all on board.'

Xoralundra bent closer to the helmet. Horza inspected the aged skin on the back of his hands. 'What of the Culture ship?' the Idiran asked.

'Still nothing, Querl. It cannot be anywhere in the system. Our computer suggests it is outside, possibly between us and the fleet. Before long it must realise we are in here by ourselves.'

'You will set off to rejoin the fleet the instant the female Culture agent is aboard, without waiting for the platforms. Is that understood, Captain?' Xoralundra looked at Horza as the human glanced at him. 'Is that understood, Captain?' the Querl repeated, still looking at the human.

'Yes, Querl,' came the answer. Horza could hear the icy tone, even through the small helmet speaker.

'Good. Use your own initiative to decide the best route back to the fleet. In the meantime you will destroy the cities of De'aychanbie, Vinch, Easna-Yowon, Izilere and Ylbar with fusion bombs, as per the Admiralty's orders.'

'Yes, Qu-' Xoralundra stabbed a switch in the helmet, and it fell silent.

'You got Balveda?' Horza asked, surprised.

'We have the Culture agent, yes. I regard her capture, or destruction, as of comparatively little consequence. But only by our assuring the Admiralty we would attempt to take her would they contemplate such a hazardous mission ahead of the main fleet to rescue you.'

'Hmm. Bet you didn't get Balveda's knife missile.' Horza snorted, looking again at the wrinkles on his hands.

'It destructed while you were being put aboard the shuttle which brought you up to the ship.' Xoralundra waved one hand, sending a draught of Idiran-scented air across the table. 'But enough of that. I must explain why we risked a light cruiser to rescue you.'

'By all means,' Horza said, and turned to face the Idiran.

'Four standard days ago,' the Querl said, 'a group of our ships intercepted a single Culture craft of conventional outward appearance but rather odd internal construction, judging by its emission signature. The ship was destroyed easily enough, but its Mind escaped. There was a planetary system near by. The Mind appears to have transcended real space to within the planetary surface of the globe it chose, thus indicating a level of hyperspatial field management we had thought — hoped — was still beyond the Culture. Certainly such spaciobatics are beyond us for the moment. We have reason to believe, due to that and other indications, that the Mind involved is one from a new class of General Systems Vehicles the Culture is developing. The Mind's capture would be an intelligence coup of the first order.'

The Querl paused there. Horza took the opportunity to ask, 'Is this thing on Schar's World?'

'Yes. According to its last message it intended to shelter in the tunnels of the Command System.'

'And you can't do anything about it?' Horza smiled.

'We came to get you. That is doing something about it, Bora Horza.' The Querl paused. 'The shape of your mouth tells me you see something amusing in this situation. What would that be?'

'I was just thinking… lots of things: that that Mind was either pretty smart or very lucky; that you were very lucky you had me close by; also that the Culture isn't likely to sit back and do nothing.'

'To deal with your points in order,' Xoralundra said sharply, 'the Culture Mind was both lucky and smart; we were fortunate; the Culture can do little because they do not, as far as we know, have any Changers in their employ, and certainly not one who has served on Schar's World. I would also add, Bora Horza,' the Idiran said, putting both huge hands on the table and dipping his great head towards the human, 'that you were more than a little lucky yourself.'

'Ah yes, but the difference is that I believe in it.' Horza grinned.

'Hmm. It does you little credit,' observed the Querl. Horza shrugged.

'So you want me to put down on Schar's World and get the Mind?'

'If possible. It may be damaged. It may be liable to destruct, but it is a prize worth fighting for. We shall give you all the equipment you need, but your presence alone would give us a toe-hold.'

'What about the people already there? The Changers on caretaker duty?'

'Nothing has been heard from them. They were probably unaware of the Mind's arrival. Their next routine transmission is due in a few days, but, given the current disruption in communications due to the war, they may not be able to send.'

'What…' Horza said slowly, one finger describing a circular pattern on the table surface which he was looking at, '… do you know about the personnel in the base?'

'The two senior members have been replaced by younger Changers,' the Idiran said. 'The two junior sentinels became seniors, remaining there.'

'They wouldn't be in any danger, would they?' Horza asked.

'On the contrary. Inside a Dra'Azon Quiet Barrier, on a Planet of the Dead, must rank as one of the safest places to be during the current hostilities. Neither we nor the Culture can risk causing the Dra'Azon any offence. That is why they cannot do anything, and we can only use you.'

'If,' Horza said carefully, sitting forward and dropping his voice slightly, 'I can get this metaphysical computer for you-'

'Something in your voice tells me we approach the question of remuneration,' Xoralundra said.

'We do indeed. I've risked my neck for you lot long enough, Xoralundra. I want out. There's a good friend of mine on that Schar's World base, and if she's agreeable I want to take her and me out of the whole war. That's what I'm asking for.'

'I can promise nothing. I shall request this. Your long and devoted service will be taken into account.'

Horza sat back and frowned. He wasn't sure if Xoralundra was being ironic or not. Six years probably didn't seem like very long at all to a species that was virtually immortal; but the Querl Xoralundra knew how often his frail human charge had risked all in the service of his alien masters, without real reward, so perhaps he was being serious. Before Horza could continue with the bargaining, the helmet shrilled once more. Horza winced. All the noises on the Idiran ship seemed to be deafening. The voices were thunder; ordinary buzzers and bleepers left his