"No," said Cumpston, "not our business to tell Nils. Especially not now, Arthur. We can't be their keepers. Anyway, you have other things to think about at the moment than raising taboo subjects."
"And yet, I can't forget we're all bound together in funny ways."
"How do you feel about the safety of those two misfits off together?"
"Let's not forget, those two misfits are probably the two most intelligent members on this planet of the two most deadly species known. I'm not overly concerned about them."
"More deadly than Protectors?"
"That's something I hope we don't have to find out."
"And Patrick Quickenden. He won't be too pleased."
"That's not my problem. He's not a Wunderlander."
"He loves Dimity too, you know."
"I know. But we've got enough things to sort out without lovesick Crashlanders as well."
"How do you feel, General?" Cumpston asked. "About the wedding, I mean."
"As I should feel, I guess," Guthlac told him. "Scared. Happy. I've never been married before. I want to be with Gale for the rest of my life. I want lots of children and I want them to live here on Wunderland. I'd like to get her farm back into proper production. Big John can help now he's been patched up. Earth's been too crowded and conformist for a long time. I don't particularly care if I never see it again. I'd like my children here. And none of those damned birth restrictions!"
"We had to have them. It's the only reason we've been able to keep the crowding down a bit."
"Yes, but Earth hasn't kept the blandness down. Or the conformity and police control, more than a little of which I had a hand in making. As somebody said: 'I've seen some terrible things and a lot of them I caused.' But I see what I've been missing now. Wunderland is full of surprises still. Gale was the best of them."
The red telephone on Guthlac's desk called him, then went into battle-secret mode, vibrations keyed to his personal implant. He listened to it, then stared at it with curious expression.
"That was Defense Headquarters," he said at length. "A message has just come in on the hyperwave."
"I gather it's something important. Are you going to tell me?" There was something like consternation behind Cumpston's voice as he stared at Guthlac. The brigadier had raised a hand and was wiping away tears.
"Oh, yes, it's important. And I'm going to tell you. Everybody will know soon enough anyway. McDonald and the Patriarch's negotiator have signed a treaty. Humanity and the Kzin Empire are at peace. Sixty-six years after first contact. It's a funny feeling." He looked at the wetness of the tears on his hand with surprise.
"Peace. It's a funny word, Arthur."
"It's going to take some getting used to . . . For the kzinti, too. I doubt they've ever been at peace with anyone before."
"Some geneticists have speculated," said Cumpston, "that the war has changed the kzinti. Killed off their most aggressive individuals, made the species less dangerous."
"And some," said Guthlac, "have speculated that the war has changed them by killing off their most stupid and reckless individuals, and made the species more cunning and more dangerous."
"I know. What do we believe?"
"After sixty-six years of war, there must still be a place for optimism, for hope . . . for ideals. Otherwise we are indeed no better than animals."
"Yes." Cumpstom raised his eyes to the window. "Does the sky look different to you."
They both stared at it for a long time. "Yes. Or I think it will soon. Do you believe death is not going to fall out of it again?"
"I'm trying to . . ." Cumpston said. "I hope our kzin friends here will be pleased . . . I mean our real kzin friends . . .Vaemar, Raargh, Karan . . . Big John."
"You think of them first? You're a funny bird, Michael."
"Vaemar's always been vulnerable to a certain stain: quisling, collaborator. Maybe that's gone now."
"Vaemar was only a kitten when the kzin forces on Wunderland surrendered. A lost, orphaned kitten, when Rarrgh took him in. Should he have fought to the death against us with his milk-teeth? Anyway, even if there's now a cease-fire in space, I doubt it means the likes of Vaemar can come and go between here and the Patriarchy just like that."
"Perhaps he can one day. Another thing I'm realizing: we don't have to use Baphomet."
"No." Baphomet was something very new, which the two officers had been briefed on shortly before. It was an update of the old idea of a disrupter bomb. A complex carrier designed to penetrate deep into the crust of a suitable planet, and set off explosions which, it was calculated, could turn over a tectonic plate. It had been tried on a lifeless world orbiting Proxima Centauri and had worked. Had the target's geology been a little different, Proxima would have become a twin star sub-system.
"Sorry, Arthur, I'm still trying to get my mind around it all. There's a lot to think about. It's going to take a while to digest. But your children, and Gale's, can maybe grow up in a better time."
"Give me a chance to get some first!"
"Me too, perhaps."
They both laughed, and Guthlac poured celebratory drinks.
* * *
There had been a resumption of brief and cryptic messages from Chorth-Captain. He had established himself on Ka'ashi. He had discovered an arms depot, and a mighty ally. It was time to leap.
Kzaargh-Commodore had broken his rule of maximum possible silence. He sent back interrogatories. The replies remained cryptic. Things were going better than expected. The ally was unexpected but potent. Attack!
The kzinti had no allies. Other races were enemies, prey or slaves. It was inconceivable that the kzinti needed allies. Or rather, Kzaargh-commodore thought, struggling like so many kzinti to fathom an utterly new situation, it had been inconceivable that the kzinti needed allies. His crew trod softly for he was puzzled and angry. He had sent more interrogatories, but
