a command and spat curses. The humans had, of course, disabled the key motor-response cells, leaving it under purely mechanical control. Only the brainless netcam was not affected. He could start the car and kick it forward in a straight line, but that was all. It would run into the monastery wall.
Better than nothing, if it squashed a monkey or two, he thought. Indeed, a human stood directly in front of it. He moved to kick in its starter, when he recognized that the monkey wore the robes of the abbot.
That one took me under his protection, he thought. To run the car over that one would be dishonorable now. Could it not have been any other? Fate is playing some bitter tricks today.
No matter. He had got behind the car anyway. Clutching the two beam rifles, he doubled himself into the crouching attack run.
Out of the hut. Straight down the alley, propping the two weapons steady on a wedge of timber, aiming, firing.
Hitting the laser cannon behind its shield. The car suddenly airborne on a wall of roiling fire, the air hammer of the explosion, a ball of fire leaping skywards from a ruptured fuel-tank, the car turning over, the cannon cycling laser bolts skyward, into the walls, into the ground in gouts of flame, the car crashing back upside-down between the shattered gates. Humans dropping, firing. He dropped and rolled. He thought that if he kept low he could lose himself for quite a time in the huddle of huts and alleys-until they began strafing them from the air, in fact. It would be a bold human who followed him. He raised his head cautiously, fairly sure that he was unseen still in smoke and shadows. He heard Jocelyn's voice: 'Come out, you one-eyed ratcat bastard! Come out and die!'
'Sun ov a beetch!' he called back in his best human accent, wondering if the human insult was appropriate. He had several spare charges for the rifles in his belt, and could kill a lot of monkeys yet. Lesser-Sergeant, and Trader too, would be avenged. Let him get his claws on the Jocelyn-human, and she might be sorry she had thrown her suicide pill away!
Then he heard the aircars landing.
It was obvious what would happen next. The monkeys in the cars would be informed of the situation and would saturate the whole area with fire from the air. How much harm could he do them with the two remaining beam rifles? Not enough, not before they used their beams and missiles. Some of the monkey buildings were already on fire, and they would all burn fiercely with the help of beam weapons. He saw the snouts of the squad weapons reappear at the door and main window of the Mess. But it seemed no human intended to initiate a duel with them yet, and the discipline that he had ordered held: they kept behind the monastery wall, and the humans remained sheltered from them. The gun car and scattered debris flamed and crackled and smoked.
He raised the two side arms, one in his own hand and one in the prosthetic one, and poised himself. There was nothing for it now but a charge into the monkey lines.
He thought of Lord Dragga-Skrull's great final order, Lord Dragga-Skrull who like him had lost arm and eye in battle: 'The Patriarch knows every Hero will kill eights of times before dying heroically!' He braced his legs to spring. 'Raargh-Sergeant!' A kzinti voice, not a human, carrying effortlessly across the monkey clamor.
'Stand up and come forward!'
He stood slowly. There was Hroarh-Captain, disembarking with some difficulty from one of the aircars. A male human accompanied him: short, stocky for a human, wearing the UNSN costume.
He advanced, still carrying the beam rifles. The lights on their stocks indicated they were still charged. Humans whom he assumed had a medical function were busy with the human casualties now. Second Corporal and Junior Doctor were obviously dead. Groom was still moving, but as Raargh-Sergeant watched he howled and died. They had died as kzintosh should die, on the attack.
He stopped a few feet from the group and let them come forward. They were now covered by the cone of fire of the squad weapons held by the remaining kzin in the Mess.
'This is Staff Colonel Cumpston of the UNSN. What has been happening here?' 'You may speak in the Heroes' Tongue,' said the stocky human. 'I understand it.' 'The Jocelyn-human demanded I hand over the Jorg-human to her. I refused. She brought up the cannon and said she would destroy us if I did not comply. I therefore acted to disable the cannon.'
'I see.'
'I thought it might be something like that,' said the stocky human. 'A pity we didn't get here earlier.'
'Pity?' The kzin did not understand the word.
'I mean, it is unfortunate. In any event,' he went on, 'all Wunderland humans have now been placed under the jurisdiction of the Free Wunderland Forces. Captain Jocelyn van der Stratt anticipated her authority slightly, but it is now a lawful request.'
'And we? The kzinti of Ka'ashi… the… the Wunderkzin?'
'You will not be mistreated. You are under joint UNSN-Free Wunderland jurisdiction.'
The abbot had been very near the car when the beams hit it. He was pale and shaking and bleeding around the head and mouth, he had lost his shoes and showed bare monkey feet at the ends of thin pale legs and his garment was scorched, but he was still capable of speech. 'I have also made a request that there be proper treatment,' he said. His voice shook as much as his hands.
'Hroarh-Captain? I obey your orders!'
'I am no longer in a position to give orders here, Raargh-Sergeant. It appears the Patriarch's armed forces here are dissolved. As one individual kzintosh to another, you are the stronger male now, or the less disabled, so perhaps if anything I am under your dominance.
'We have accepted terms of unconditional surrender,' he continued, 'in return for a monkey promise that all surviving members of our kind in this system will be spared. The alternative was to see us exterminated to the last kzinrett and the last kitten. The Patriarch's Forces are officially dissolved on this planet. I am now nothing.'
Raargh-Sergeant slipped into the imperative tense as he replied. Humans would recognize that. What they perhaps would not recognize was the other constructions which he was inserting, in the rarely-heard ultimate imperative tense, generally used only by Royalty or in a situation where the Honor of the whole kzin species was at stake.
'We have Chuut-Riit's urine. May we keep it?'
Hroarh-Captain looked startled at the tense, but having virtually conceded dominance, he was slow to protest. Then, it seemed, the Sergeant's motive occurred to him.
'It is not valuable to humans,' he replied. The concealed meaning was: 'Animals have no conception of its value/sacredness.'
'And Chuut-Riit's blood? That is there also.' He gave a grooming lick to the air. To another kzin that could indicate a kitten.
'It is not valuable to humans,' Hroarh-Captain repeated in the same tense. 'We may prevent dishonor coming to Chuut-Riit's blood.'
'I bid you speak in the tense of equals,' said Staff Colonel Cumpston in an approximation of the dominant tense of the Heroes' Tongue. 'I do not mean to humiliate you, but it is my duty to understand what you say.'
Jocelyn strode forward, cradling a strakkaker. Raargh-Sergeant was suddenly aware that he still held two beam rifles. Her face was white and there was red human blood on her costume. The heady smell of it took his memory back for a moment.
'This ratcat has killed another four of my people and injured eight more! After the cease-fire!' She raised the strakkaker. Raargh-Sergeant raised his beam rifles. It was hard to steady his prosthetic arm but a steady aim would hardly be needed. Staff Colonel Cumpston stepped quickly forward and raised a hand. Hroarh-Captain leaned forward into the path of the strakkaker. The abbot also stepped forward. 'No,' he said. 'I gave my protection. It must stand even now or it is nothing.'
'It appears there was a factor of provocation,' the UNSN colonel said. 'I see that kzinti have died too.' Raargh-Sergeant saw that though his face was impassive, Hroarh-Captain was trembling almost as much as the abbot. Lights flashed on the control panel of the thing that took the place of his legs as it sought to compensate for the movements.
'There are major considerations of policy here,' the colonel went on. 'It has been decided for various reasons that those of the kzinti who wish to remain on Wunderland may do so. In any case, we can hardly repatriate them. The war goes on.'
'It is not repatriation that I was thinking of.'
'I can assure you, Captain van der Stratt, that this was decided for a number of carefully considered
