Dismay: "It's about Birgit and the Dalmadys, isn't it?"
"Who or what else would it be?"
The fact jabbed through Tyra. Eisenberg had piloted a boat carrying the biological team to the third planet, Kama-pua'a. The second was less favorably positioned at present; though the third orbited farther out, it wasn't much more than thirty hours off, at one gee with midpoint turnover. If something unexpected began happening to Kumukahi, which it might at any moment, the boat would be wanted back straightaway. Meanwhile, husband and wife could do science yonder.
"But—they weren't going to land where the kzinti are," Tyra protested.
More remembrance. Kama-pua'a was another giant, with a swarm of moons. The two biggest had thin atmospheres. They were close enough that tidal flexion, as well as whatever internal heat remained, kept them warm enough that life was perhaps, barely, germinating on either or both. Its origins were so various, probably many of the possibilities still unknown. . . . The boat had sent images back, a great spheroid banded with clouds and storms, the craggy surface of Moku-ola ahead, the joyful expectations inboard. . . .
The kzinti had established their bases on the small outer satellite the humans called Poliahu, obviously mostly ice.
"You know and the kzinti know what sensitive instruments can do, especially at short ranges like that," Bihari said. "Frankly, I would have liked very much to send some of ours along, but my orders— Hold."
The screen filled with a tigerish countenance. The voice rumbled with a menace and—glee?—that the flat English of the translator had no need to convey. "Your words are insolent. No Hero can tolerate such. You will make amends for the intrusion, amends which I will specify, or your spies will suffer the consequences that they have earned."
Bihari kept her tone level, steeliness only in the dark face. "I deny again that they are spies and that your gang had any right whatsoever to seize them. They will be returned promptly, unharmed, or there will indeed be consequences. However, as a point of information, what demands have you in mind?"
She ceased transmission pending the reply, turned to Tyra, and said, "This is preposterous, as I think even a kzin must realize. They can scarcely be carrying on military work there."
"No," Tyra answered. "Not exactly. I can guess what it is."
"Tell me."
"They used a special kind of tug at the old red sun where Captain Saxtorph surprised them. It could fly close, to nudge ferriferous objects into trajectories for collection. The crew survived those passages because the craft, besides having big reflecting surfaces, was heavily loaded with water. Vented to space, the water cooled it during the time of exposure. I think these kzinti have one like it along, though it must be smaller."
Bihari nodded. "Yes, of course I remember the reports, but thank you for reminding me." She stroked her chin. "Our own long-range observations do show large excavations, and structures that may well be prefabricated facilities for purification and transfer. . . . Yes, I feel sure you are right. Thank you again. You have done us a service."
Our instruments are all directed at Pele and Kumukahi, Tyra thought. "They can't claim that's military."
"Not logically. If it were, it would be a violation of the peace treaty. But—proprietary processes— I can't predict how an Earthside court would rule. I suspect dear Ghrul-Captain was rather well briefed before he left home. The kzin may be mad, but they are not stupid; and . . . there have been humans eager to inform them. There doubtless still are."
"Civilian, military, no difference to them anyway," said Tyra with a bitterness that the memory of her brother redoubled.
"You understand."
"He's been on the lurk for an excuse, any excuse, to make trouble for us. What can we do?"
"That will be seen," said Bihari.
They spoke little more but sat each with her thoughts until the kzin face came back.
"Your two ships will move to hyperspacing distance," stated Ghrul-Captain. "When they have done so, we will allow the three creatures we hold to rendezvous with you. You will then depart."
"And leave further discoveries to you," Bihari retorted. "Sir, you know how underequipped you are. Priceless knowledge will be lost, which it is our mission to obtain." She paused. "Very well, you have made your—initial offer, shall we say? Mine is that you release our people and their boat immediately, unconditionally, and unharmed. In return, we will consider this a misunderstanding which, fortunately, was resolved by mutual reasonableness. I expect your decision as quickly as transmission lag allows."
The screen blanked.
"What next, ma'am?" Tyra whispered.
"We have about a quarter of an hour. Ample time." Bihari activated an intercom and ordered battle stations. Tyra heard running feet and clashing metal. In minutes, a monitor screen showed assault boats leaping from their bays, spearlike athwart the stars.
It thrilled in her. Yet what would Craig think?
When Ghrul-Captain's image reappeared, he must have known what his radars and other detectors were revealing. Tyra wondered whether that smoothed his arrogance a little. It certainly did not quell him. "If you do not wish me to send the command for the execution of your agents, you will not try my patience further. I make this much concession in the interests of peace. You will turn your hyperwave transmitter over to us, with complete instructions for its use. I am prepared to consider that a barely sufficient atonement."
Yes, Tyra thought at him, and after that you can do anything you think you might get away with. You aren't armed like us, but—Robert wiped out your red-sun base by crashing an asteroid on it. Your ice tug? I don't know. But I can hear that you don't gag on words like "peace." Was this what you were after all along?
"Ghrul-Captain," said Bihari glacially, "what I will consider barely sufficient atonement is the liberty of our people. My command is in attack mode, as I trust your instruments have verified for you. If we do not hear from those people in minimum transmission time
