Until the war had disrupted communications between them, the humans of their homeworld had set out to subtly and secretly control and influence the humans of the Ka'ashi System. The UNSN, or Yarooensssn, the Sol- humans' chief space and military force, the simian equivalent of the Patriarch's Navy (only Chuut-Riit could get away with saying there was a simian equivalent to the Patriarch's Navy) was not the ultimate human power.
There was something called Arrum, itself apparently the tool of something else that had no name. There was a system known as konspirruussee, which, Chuut-Riit has said, subtly sought to control not only the monkeys, but might in some way come to threaten the Heroic Race itself. Its invisible tentacles reached far. Individuals on Ka'ashi, kzintosh who had had dealings with humans, had already touched the edges of it…
Well, there was meat in all this. It seemed the Ka'ashi humans-the Wunderland humans now-were not the ultimate masters of the situation on this world. The Yarooensssn-it was easier to visualize the symbols UNSN-had some claw upon them. And, it seemed, there might be something else beyond that… That was, no doubt, what restrained the Jocelyn-human at present and why he and his charges were still alive. The UNSN wanted them.
For what? Slaves? They must know no kzin would live long as a prisoner or live at all as a slave. Interrogation? There were dark stories of monkey tortures and chemicals for any kzin unHeroic enough to be taken alive, but what could sergeants and rankers tell the UNSN that it did not know? Sport in some human Public Hunt? Most of those here were too shot up to run well, though monkeys might like tormenting cripples (well, monkeys who had refused to run in the Hunt had gained nothing from it).
Hostages? The kzin had occasionally taken human hostages when wishing to compel cooperation or the surrender of ferals but for a Hero, a kit of the Fanged God, the fate of a hostage of his own kind would not deflect his feet from the path of Heroism in dealing with an Enemy. A Hero taken hostage would be expected to die like a Hero… They must not know of Chuut-Riit's son!
A darker possibility crossed his mind. Earlier in the war a human female had appeared briefly on television screens promising them roomy cages in the Munchen zoo with a diet of carrots and cabbages to pasture on, should they surrender, but this had apparently been a trick to madden senior officers into losing control and had not been seen for some time. He told himself it was not true. Rather, the UNSN and now Jocelyn had been promising honorable treatment. But which was the lie? Do not think of it. That way leads to madness, to clouded thoughts and inappropriate actions. That had been the subject of another lecture from the Great One: 'They learnt early to make us lose control of our emotions. They exploited this ability in the earliest space battles for this system, almost instinctively, before they had seen us. It is a variation of the old story of the kz'eerkti teasing Heroes into frenzy in the forests of Homeworld.' That reminded him of something. He beckoned to the kitten.
'That was a strange thing you did, Vaemar-Riit,' he told it.
'I could think of nothing else, Raargh-Sergeant Hero. The man had to be diverted.'
Kits of this one's age spent their time chasing their own tails and flutterbys in the meadow grass. 'You mean'-he felt stunned for a moment-'that was what you planned?'
'Yes, Raargh-Sergeant Hero. I wished to scream and leap when she drew weapons but I knew I was too little.'
'There was danger. You know she might have shot you where you stood. Or flung the ratchet-knife into you.'
'Yes, Raargh-Sergeant Hero. I knew. But here your life is more important than mine.'
'I see… You do not need your blazon or your ear tattoos, Vaemar-Riit… not for all to see that you are truly Chuut-Riit's son. And here no life is more important than yours. The kzin of Ka'ashi will have need of you.' He bent and licked the kitten's head.
Jorg came forward: 'Raargh-Sergeant, your pardon, may I speak?'
'Yes. Speak on.'
'They demand my life, don't they?'
'Yes.'
'Perhaps I should go to them. It would save you.'
'You would give your life for us?'
'I think I am a dead man one way or another.'
'You want your head on a pole like those others?'
'When you are dead, it hardly matters where your head is.'
'We think differently. Look at Ptrr-Brunurn. He is honored.'
'If I or my kind deserve any Honor, history may honor us.'
'I do not understand.'
'Passions may cool in a generation or so. They will come to see that we collaborators did what we did partly for them. Yes, for them. Without us to intercede between the mass of humans and the Heroes, things would have been worse for them than they were.
'I do not say this to sound heroic-to sound better than I am. But where would they have been without us to run some sort of government, to arrange some system of food and shelter as poverty and breakdown spread, to police our towns, to keep our farms and mines and factories working as well as we might, yes, to control lawless humans who might have attacked their own kind or brought terrible reprisals for attacking Heroes, to remove litter and maintain orphanages and see the dead were buried, to keep at least a few factories manufacturing the geriatric drugs?'
'Is that why you became chief of the monkey police? To be useful to your own kind?'
'This is no time for lying. I did it partly for those reasons but also to protect myself, my mate, my kits. But I am not innocent. I delivered resistance fighters to the Public Hunt. At first with sickness and shame and loathing and because I told myself I was serving a greater good, later more because it was my job and my nerves were deadened-trained monkey indeed. I and my people ate well when each day more starved. We drafted people to your war factories and shipyards and constructions, yes, and to serve in the Kzin fleets that attacked Earth. Later we helped hunt down Earth and UNSN agents and infiltrators. Some of us did a little sabotage of the administration when it was safe, or turned a blind eye to some resistance, at least before the Telepaths' checks began. We walked a tightrope. I am no human hero, like the abbot of this monastery. I am neither innocent nor wicked. I am guilty.'
'The abbot? The Head of the Three Monkey-Gods cult? I have played chesss with him'-that human word was easy to pronounce. Indeed it had entered the Heroes' Tongue. 'Why do you say 'human hero'?'
'He fed and clothed many refugees here. Also, he sheltered human resistance fighters. I half knew. God help me, perhaps I would have handed him over long ago or pointed a Telepath towards him, for he was helping prolong the whole agony, but he was too popular with humans. And too many monks had been too brave. To send him to the Hunt would have meant more feral activity, more sabotage, more throats cut, more hydrofluoric acid thrown over Heroes in city alleyways at night, and more humans killed in reprisals, too, more human land expropriated. My lot was not to steer the ship of human destiny to some fair harbor, just to help keep it more or less afloat.'
'He lied to me, then. I spoke to him at times. I thought he showed his mind to me at chesss, and when we drank bourbon and ice cream together after a long game. Is there no end to monkey trickery?'
'I did not wholly lie to you. Neither, I think, did he. Once when we spoke he-I mean no insult and nor did he- likened you Raargh-Sergeant to a figure in his holy book, a centurion…
'There is much about kzinti I admire-your strength, your honor, your courage. Many humans, even your greatest enemies like Markham, admire you, more perhaps than those who merely tried to endure kzinti rule… As to an end to monkey trickery, I don't know. You have a low opinion of humans.'
'You are omnivores. You are beneath opinion. We acknowledge some monkeys-like your Ptrr-Brunurn-may be entitled to fighters' privileges and honors. I suppose you hated us too. Strange, a few weeks ago nothing in the world would have mattered to me less than how a human felt about me.'
'Does it matter now? Yes, very nearly all of us hated you. For a very few lucky privileged ones perhaps admiration overcame hatred.'
'H'rr. So my Honor is bound up with protecting a monkey who hates me? Will you kill me, monkey?'
'Did you not just say it did not matter how we felt? I will not lie to you now. How could we love the kzinti? As for killing you, until lately I was not one to think of such things much, save as a dream sometimes… Still, there were other things which some of us looked to,' said Jorg. 'We collaborators took them as signs of justification for
