“This is the one,” Qwen said, indicating screen three. The picture showed a room decorated to resemble a home on Hive, a Ramanthian functionary who looked vaguely familiar, and a pair of human females. All three were seated.
Ubatha lowered himself onto a saddle chair and settled in to watch. “Names,” he demanded.
“The functionary calls himself Hamantha Croth. But his actual name is Bebo Hoknar. He served as the Warrior Queen’s majordomo and fled Hive two days before her death was announced to the public. According to the data supplied by the registrar, both of the animals work for the Confederacy’s consulate. The creature on the far right is Consul Christine Vanderveen. She arrived a week ago and appears to be making a round of courtesy calls.”
“And Hoknar is at or near the top of her list.”
“It appears that way-yes.”
“Back it up. I want to see it from the beginning.”
Qwen complied. Ubatha watched and listened as the pleasantries came to an end and the real conversation began. And it was painfully mundane as the Vanderveen animal probed Hoknar for information, and he fended her off. “She knows something,” Ubatha observed. “Or believes she does.”
“Perhaps,” Qwen allowed. “But if so, she isn’t getting anywhere.”
And that was true. Because fifteen minutes later, as the humans got up to leave, nothing of any real consequence had been said. “Sorry, sir,” Qwen said, as the visitors left and the door closed behind them. “I thought we were onto something.”
“Quiet,” Ubatha ordered, as a female Ramanthian shuffled into the picture. The Egg Hoknar? Yes, the warrior thought so.
“What did they want?” the Egg Hoknar inquired.
“It was a courtesy call,” Hoknar answered. “But the new animal seemed to be after some sort of information. We must be very careful. What if the animals were to learn the truth? There’s no telling what might happen.”
“Come,” the Egg Hoknar said. “Your lunch is ready.”
Ubatha felt the slow, pleasurable flush of victory as the couple shuffled out of the room. He still didn’t know where the fugitive Queen was. But he knew whom to ask.
Thanks to the spy ball in Hoknar’s home, the War Ubatha was very familiar with the expat’s habits. So the home invasion took place at two in the morning. A time when both of the Hoknars would be sound asleep.
It took less than a minute for Qwen to neutralize the alarm system and pick the lock. A few moments later, Ubatha and his team were inside. It was a simple matter to enter the bedroom and turn the lights on. The couple was sleeping on floor bolsters facing the door. Hoknar awoke with a start and was trying to get up when Ubatha placed a foot on his back.
Meanwhile, the Egg Hoknar did something completely unexpected. She reared up, produced a pistol, and fired. The bullet nicked one of the troopers. So he shot her in the head. She collapsed in a heap.
“You fool!” Ubatha said, and brought a closed pincer around. There was a loud clack as chitin made contact with chitin and the soldier staggered backwards. Suddenly, some of Ubatha’s leverage, not to mention a possible source of information, was gone. There was one benefit, however-and that was Hoknar’s reaction to his mate’s death. Judging from his body language, he was both shocked and terrified.
“Check to see if the noise woke anyone up,” Ubatha ordered. “Take Hoknar into the eating area and secure him to the table. But leave his tool arms free so he can talk.”
Troopers were busy tying Hoknar to the table when Qwen returned. “There isn’t any activity in the area, sir. If other residents heard the Egg Hoknar’s shot-they didn’t recognize the noise for what it was.”
“Good,” Ubatha replied. “Stay out front. Let me know if you see anything.”
With his subject secured to the table, Ubatha was ready for the interrogation. By pulling a chair around, he could sit only inches away and stare into Hoknar’s face. “This could be quite painless,” Ubatha said. “And that would be my preference. Your name is Bebo Hoknar. Not Hamantha Croth. You served as the Warrior Queen’s majordomo. And shortly after she left Hive, you left Hive. And followed her here. That much is obvious. And admirable in a way… because loyalty is a virtue. But there is something else to consider. And that is loyalty not to a single person but to our entire race. So tell me where the Queen is, and we will leave you in peace.”
The last was a lie, of course. Because Ubatha had no intention of allowing Hoknar to live. But it was necessary to lie in order to achieve a higher purpose. Hoknar blinked rapidly. A sure sign of stress. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Truly I don’t.”
Ubatha tilted his head in a way that signaled pity. “Your egg mate is dead. Who will arrange for her funeral once you’re gone?”
“I would tell you if I knew,” Hoknar insisted pitifully. “But I don’t.”
“Okay,” Ubatha responded. “Perhaps what you say is true. But my duty is clear. I have to make sure.”
Then, looking up at one of his troopers, Ubatha gave the necessary orders. “Tape his beak and remove his wings.”
Hoknar screamed. Or tried to. But he couldn’t open his mouth, so no sound came out. “Now,” Ubatha said, as he held one of the severed appendages up for Hoknar to examine. “Are you ready to tell me what I need to know?”
Hoknar had no choice but to communicate via click speech. “Please,” he said. “How can I tell you what I don’t know?”
“You are starting to annoy me,” Ubatha said heartlessly. “Remove his left foot.”
Hoknar struggled. Or tried to as a trooper took hold of his left foot and pulled. Having grabbed a meat cleaver from a rack, a second soldier raised it high above his head. There was a solid thunk as the blade cut through Hoknar’s ankle and sank into the wood tabletop. Blood spurted and began to pool on the floor.
Hoknar fainted at that point. He came around when a trooper dumped a panful of water onto his head. “I’m waiting,” Ubatha said grimly. “Tell me what I want to know.”
And Hoknar did. The ensuing conversation lasted for more than ten minutes. And by the time it was over, Ubatha knew the truth. The Warrior Queen had been smuggled into the city in a cargo module. But it was apparent to Hoknar and others that she wouldn’t be able to hide on the planet for long. The Ramanthian community was simply too small. Somebody would notice. Plus, there was the hope that a cure could be found. And that was why she had been taken to Sensa. “By whom?” Ubatha demanded. “ Who took the Queen to Sensa?”
“Chancellor Ubatha,” came the reply. “And a Thraki named Benjii.”
The War Ubatha wasn’t surprised to hear his mate’s name. But a Thraki? That was news. Especially since the fur balls were providing him with assistance as well. They’re supporting both sides, Ubatha thought to himself. So they win either way. The eggless scum.
The warrior stood and made eye contact with one of the troopers. “Shoot him. Use your silencer.”
There was a soft phut as the soldier fired, Hoknar jerked, and his body went limp. The entire party would be aboard the Thraki ship and in hyperspace before the bodies were discovered. Then the long, tiresome business of killing the Queen would continue. But, as Nira had written, “In order to achieve strength we must conqueror resistance.” And that made him feel better.
11
An army is a team, lives, sleeps, fights, and eats as a team. This individual hero stuff is a lot of horseshit.
PLANET O-CHI 4, THE CONFEDERACY OF SENTIENT BEINGS
Trees had been cut down. Ground had been cleared. And graves had been dug. Seventy-six in all. Santana still had difficulty believing it. Nearly a third of the battalion had been wounded or killed in a single engagement. Yet
