Of one thing he felt sure — no Tandu would ever join the Skiano’s heresy! Immortality of some abstract “soul” could not appeal like a chance to crush enemies, or impose their racial will on a recalcitrant cosmos. Till now, constraints of ritual and law kept such impulses in check — Tandu seldom killed openly without a veneer of Galactic legality. But what if civilization collapsed? There were rumors of secret bases, filled with countless warrior eggs, ready to hatch at a moment’s notice.
“Why are the paha and gello just standing there?” he wondered aloud. “They must not realize—”
Kiwei interrupted.
“They do realize. Note how they keep their backs toward the curtain, as if to ignore what’s beyond. Clearly, they have orders. The Tandu is here for some approved purpose!”
Purpose? Harry tugged nervously on his thumbs … till he had an idea.
“Kiwei, hand me your data plaque. I want to try something.”
The Synthian complied, and Harry started mumbling commands into the handheld unit. Using his authority, he ordered ferret programs to search for transmissions emanating from Rety’s computer. With luck, he would soon—
“Got it!” he announced, while his companions crowded close. On a split screen, the left side abruptly revealed the young Jijoan woman, her visage smoothed by recent surgery. On the right, they saw copies of the charts that had her attention transfixed.
“What now?” Dwer asked. “Use this link to speak to her? I guarantee she’ll just get angry and cut us off.”
Harry shrugged. “I was hopin’ to spy a little first.” He studied the image on the right. “It looks like a list of planets where their cult recently sent missionaries. Most are trading worlds, with good spatial contacts and cosmopolitan cultures that don’t oppress odd points of view. These folks are clever. But I don’t see what this has to do with—”
He cut off as an expression of smug pleasure crossed Rety’s face. She spoke with clear satisfaction.
“This one’s perfect!”
The picture jiggled as she stood, slinging the computer under one arm. Harry caught blurry glimpses of blue draperies, and the faces of squatting acolytes, staring at some far horizon. The scene steadied when Rety came to a halt and spoke loudly, to be heard above the murmuring chant.
“Master, I’ve chosen my own place. See? I have it listed right here!”
The camera view swung around to face upward, briefly catching the image of a colorful Earthling parrot, pacing on a massive shoulder. Then Rety corrected her aim, facing the screen straight at the Skiano’s imposing head. Beyond the ramlike chin, its upper brace of eyes shone like headlamps, aimed at posterity, while the lower pair roved in search of final truth.
Rety continued. “It’s Z’ornup! I’m sure you’ve heard of the place. It has just the right atmosphere and all that stuff, so’s I can stay healthy. There’s also a human trading post, in case I ever need others of my kind — which ain’t likely, hut I guess it’s better not to close off all my options, right?
“Anyway, you already sent a small mission there, but I see the planet sits in a good spot, with lots of space trails leading in all directions, where we can send any new converts we recruit. With all that going for it, I figure Z’ornup needs a higher-level apostle, right? That’s someone like me! I’ll use the last commercial shuttle headin’ for Galaxy Three. It leaves in half a midura, so with your permission—”
The Skiano’s unwavering stare dimmed at last. The bottom set of eyes turned down to regard Rety.
“Such a posting is beneath you, my dear wolfling child. I will not have you sullied by mundane chores, proselytizing and breathing the same air as unbelievers.”
“But I—”
“There is a reward that awaits the worthy,” the missionary continued, intoning with a remote, pontifical voice. “It was alluded to by your own saints and prophets, long ago. By Jesus and Isaiah and Mohammed and Buddha … in fact, by all the great sages of your blessed-cursed race, whose suffering in darkness allowed them to see what remained hidden to all those living in the light.”
“I know that, Master. So let me go forth and spread the word to—”
“Of course those prophets made errors in recording what they saw. How could they accurately chronicle such glory with crude ink and paper, using languages that were little more than animallike grunts? Nevertheless, destiny has spoken. The beacon they lit will ignite other pyres, spreading the heat of truth everywhere, even as ruins topple around us.”
“I agree! So now let me—”
“But alas, I will not see that promised land, that apotheosis. Like Moses, I must halt before entering a mere temporal Valhalla. My labors have exhausted this poor flesh. It is time to seek the recompense that I was offered in a dream. To bypass the routine of Purgatory, and proceed directly to Paradise!”
Rety’s response was quick and restless.
“That’s great. Happy travelin’. Now about Z’ornup—”
“My reward beckons,” the Skiano went on, ponderously. “A personal salvation much finer than the Embrace of Tides. And yet … I cannot shake an uneasy premonition. Have I done everything required? What if I arrive only to learn the heavenly gatekeepers do not recognize my strange face and body? After all this time devoted only to Earthlings, are they quite ready to receive nonhuman souls in Heaven?”
The prow-shaped head rocked from left to right.
“It occurs to me that the gatekeepers will be more accommodating if I arrive escorted, with an entourage of those who will testify on my behalf.…”
The image on the screen wavered, as if the hands holding it suddenly trembled from realization, even as the rhythmic chanting reached its final climax and faded into echoes. Rety’s voice came hoarse and nervous.
“This ‘trip’ you’ve been talkin’ about … it’s not to another preaching mission, is it? You’re plannin’ to die!”
The answer made Harry shiver.
“To abandon this shell, yes. Accompanied by converts, to demonstrate my worthiness … plus a human, a true wolfling from the martyr world, to vouch for me in front of all the angels and saints.”
Harry’s shoulder was jogged, so hard that he nearly fell over. Dwer clutched his arm, squeezing with great force. He pointed.
“The curtain …”
Kiwei uttered a low moan as the shrouding drapes fell, revealing a regal Tandu warrior, painted and accoutred for ritual slaughter, advancing toward the acolytes with six arms upraised, brandishing glinting blades.
Instead of leaping to defense, both of the soldier-disciples — the gello and paha — joined their fellow converts in a crescent-shaped formation, waiting quietly with their leader centered before them.
Rety, now struggling in the Skiano’s adamant embrace, abruptly stiffened and let out a soft cry, staring upward in aghast awe while the parrot squawked, flapping overhead.
“Summon police drones!” Kiwei urged. “This ceremony is not entirely voluntary. I will attest to it!”
As if that’d do any good, Harry mused as he ran forward, following Dwer’s more rapid footsteps. The law is crumbling. Anyway, help would never get here in time.
In which case, a mighty good question would be exactly what he and Dwer hoped to accomplish by rushing toward the debacle, except to join the Tandu’s ceremonial mincing session!
The Jijoan youth slid to a halt just twenty meters from the assembled devotees. Flinging his cloak aside, Dwer lifted the compound bow he had brought from his faraway home, with an arrow nocked and ready.
“Those are mine!” the Synthian shrieked from far behind, more offended by theft than ritual murder-suicide. “You stole them from my compartment. I demand they be returned at once, or I shall file a complaint!”
In the time it took Kiwei to babble that absurd threat, the Tandu finished approaching its scheduled victims, lifting several blades high — and Dwer loosed three arrows in rapid succession.
Harry reached out for the young hunter.
“You can’t harm a Tandu that way! It has no single weak spot to disable—”
He stopped as the little missiles seemed to veer off course. Instead of hitting the executioner, they missed by a wide margin and struck the Skiano instead! Two dark eyes were extinguished by plunging bolts of wood and stone. A third arrow vanished down the missionary’s throat, when he opened it to scream.
