XVIII

Lieutenant Tuan al-Haikim was as ignorant as his fellow officers of the reason for the meeting. Insofar as he knew, it couldn’t have anything to do with the recent troubles in the southeastern provinces. Those had been settled weeks ago and there’d been nothing in the available media about any new flare-ups. Not that something couldn’t have been kept quiet.

Perhaps the general wanted to congratulate them on their handling of the situation. Or maybe something new had come up. Al-Haikim hoped not. He didn’t like shooting at his own kind. Of course, those damned impertinent southeasterners thought they were so much better than everyone else simply because their ancestors had settled the planet first, but that didn’t give them the right to—

He caught himself. He’d been thinking like the average city dweller; not like one whose ancestors had suffered under the tentacles of the Amplitur on Cossuut. Such thoughts were unbecoming to one of the Core.

He studied his fellow officers. They stood or sat or sprawled around the comfortable room, chatting and joking. Several were due for demobilization next month. Even now, years after the end of the Great War, the military continued its inexorable shrinkage. Al-Haikim had worked hard to stay in the Force, just as he’d worked hard for his recent promotion. It was important that the Core remain well represented in the surviving military, if only to counter ongoing surreptitious S’van intervention in Human affairs.

He smiled to himself. While the S’van interfered with Humankind, unbeknownst to them the Core interfered with the S’van. Thus far it had been an equitable trade-off.

Though all but two of those present outranked him, he knew most of them personally. They constituted a significant portion of the general staff on Daccar. During the war they had been scattered across a great arc of space. When the troubles had begun on Daccar, they had been brought here. The colony was a particularly fractious place, a hive of innovation as well as a kind of sociological bellwether for the other Human worlds. It was a good place to spot new trends, bad as well as benign.

In his capacity as a communications specialist he’d met General Levaughn twice, and then only briefly. It was impossible to form an opinion of someone based on such abbreviated contact, and generals were not in the habit of confiding in or asking advice of their lieutenants. All he knew about his comparatively youthful commanding officer was that his record was distinguished. Levaughn was famed as a dedicated soldier and relentless fighter. It was rumored that he had helped to settle some of the more acrimonious southeastern disputes through personal intervention in the negotiating process.

Such musings were pushed into the background as Levaughn entered and waved. Those of his senior advisors who knew him best waved back. As none of those present were in uniform there was no need to maintain the strictures of military formality.

A colonel rose and did something at a wall panel. Al-Haikim watched as safeshields slid down over the windows and the single entryway. A couple of the officers acknowledged these defensive preparations with a low murmur, but no one ventured to question them. Surely everything would be explained, including the need for such security. To Al-Haikim’s way of thinking it hearkened back to wartime conditions. He would have been even more surprised if he’d been able to see the armed guard that was taking up grim-faced positions outside the meeting room.

Levaughn halted in front of a bookshelf that, astonishingly enough, was full of books. Real books, made of board and glue and paper. A native of Daccar, the general came from a wealthy family. This had helped him considerably in his dealings with the obstreperous southeasterners.

Now he stood silently contemplating his hand-picked audience. He was a short man, though stockier than al-Haikim and many others. He wore his hair cut short and flat in the old military style, with his emblem of rank shaved into the sides. His eyes were large, black, and penetrating. They framed a nose that had been broken several times in combat. Below was a soft, rounded chin and an effeminate mouth. The ears were large and laid back, as if trying to hide within his hair.

Levaughn’s rise through the ranks had been little short of meteoric. The man who had once commanded half a planetary invasion force was now reduced to overseeing the demobilization of troops on his homeworld while concurrently trying to deal with a string of small but bloody riots. The latter were limited in scope but persistent. Since the end of the war, urban Daccarans had developed a reputation for using old-style violence to settle local disputes.

“Please, ladies and gentlemen, be seated.” Levaughn smiled at them, showing regenerated teeth.

When they’d complied he continued. “Before we get to the business at hand I want to congratulate all of you on your efforts these past months. The southeast is nearly at peace, a condition it hasn’t experienced in some time. I’m told the education people down there are putting in overtime to see it doesn’t get out of hand again. Maybe we haven’t done as well as our equivalents on some other worlds, but after all, this is Daccar.” A few knowing grins and guffaws greeted this sage observation.

“Sometimes I think it’s harder to fight the peace than it was to fight the war.” More chuckling, punctuated by a few softly voiced obscenities. Al-Haikim automatically made note of the latter for future use.

“Maybe some of you have noticed that demobilization doesn’t always go smoothly. It’s hard when you and your parents and your grandparents devoted their lives to fighting for a great cause and then that cause is suddenly snatched away. It’s not easy to readjust.” He smiled compassionately. “I’m having a pretty tough time myself.

“It’s hard to stand before units that have earned glory in combat and tell them that tomorrow they have to learn how to be statisticians or agriculturalists or assembly personnel. I don’t know about any of you, but I can’t do that without feeling a sense of loss. But let’s face it: If it wasn’t for the occasional troubles that keep cropping up, the problem would be even worse than it is.” There was a substantial but by no means universal muttering of assent.

“Those of us here are lucky. We’re all still together, doing what we’ve been trained to do. Performing that which we do best.” His tone turned regretful. “Pity it can’t last. After all, we’re at peace now.” He began to pace in front of the bookshelf, his movements as measured and precise as his speech.

“What I’ve always wondered about, soldiers, is what this peace gains us. What do we, as fighting Humans, get out of it?”

“An absence of death, sir,” ventured a perceptive major from the far side of the room.

Levaughn nodded. “Can’t argue with that. What else?” There were no other comments. “How about friendship with the Weave? Except that we’ve never been invited to join that august organization of noble noncombatants. Commercial gain? Hell, the Hivistahm and the O’o’yan are better manufacturers than we are, the Wais better artists, the Massood more disciplined workers, the S’van cannier innovators, the Motar and Sspari more adroit growers. Where’s that leave us? And what happens when our former enemies get back on nonmilitary tracks? Nobody can build anything more efficiently than those damn bug-eyed Crigolit. Seems like anything we can do, some other species can do better.

“Course, we’re still the galaxy’s greatest warriors, its toughest fighters. Even our former enemies admit to that. So let me ask you something, ladies and gentlemen: What the fuck good is that gonna do us now?”

The assembled soldiers stirred uneasily. Al-Haikim made a show of participating, but his attention was devoted to recording the reactions of his colleagues. By now it was evident this gathering was intended as something much more than a casual get-together.

Levaughn let them bicker, and argue, and finally simmer down before raising both hands for silence. He had their full attention now. No one was laughing.

“I’ve known some of you since you began your careers, from Brigadier Higham there—” He indicated a nodding older man seated in a large overstuffed chair. “—to some of you junior officers.” Al-Haikim was glad Levaughn didn’t glance in his direction. “In turn, you know me. I’m no diplomat and I’m lousy at preplanning. Strike straight, don’t deviate: that’s been my motto since I was a field grunt. It’s served me pretty well. I’m still here, still all original issue.” He opened his mouth wide. “Except for these ceramic choppers.” Several of those in attendance laughed in spite of themselves.

Levaughn lowered his voice. “O’o’yan manufacture.” The laughing stopped.

“The war’s over. We did that. We Humans. Oh sure, we had plenty of material aid from the Weave, and the Massood did their share of the fighting, but we’re the ones who turned the tide. Can’t no species take that away from us.

“The thing is, none of ’em want to give us anything in return. What’s our place gonna be now that the service we perform best is no longer in demand?”

Someone else in the back spoke up. “I hear that the Mazvec have already petitioned to join!” There was a general murmur of surprise from the assembled.

Levaughn nodded sagely. “Former enemy. We beat the crap out of ’em on Letant Three and Corschuuk. Now they’re going be invited in and we’re still standing around looking dumb, like the ugly wallflower waiting for somebody to ask ’em to dance.” He put his fists on his hips and eyed them evenly.

“That’s assuming that there’s still a Weave around in half a century’s time to ask anybody into anything. Without the Purpose to unite against, the whole system may fall apart. It’s already starting to fray. Know what that means? Without any dependable, traditional interstellar alliances, like those existing between the Hivis and the O’os, for example, every Human-occupied world will become an instant galactic backwater. We won’t have anything anybody else’ll want, and they won’t be compelled to have anything to do with us. Some thanks for a couple hundred years of blood and sacrifice.

“Oh, there won’t be anarchy. They’re all too civilized for that. Interstellar distances being what they are, things’ll just become a lot looser. With us floating free on the fringes. No galactic empire for Humankind, like some writers speculated in the early days. Empire, hell! We won’t even have a minor role. We’ll go back to being ignored.

“Maybe there’s worse fates than that, but I’m not so sure. Oh, Humankind’ll get along okay. We’ll have our own little association of worlds, centered on good old Earth. Provided we can keep from exterminating ourselves. The troubles are the first hints of that. Psychosocial specters from our claustrophobic one-world past. Meanwhile the rest of the galaxy will go back to spurning us, which is what they’ve always wanted to do.” He was gesturing assertively with his hands now. For the first time al-Haikim noticed how they’d been torn, and scarred, and repeatedly repaired through regenerative surgery.

“As you may have guessed by now, I’ve given a lot of thought to Humankind’s postwar future. Fact is, I’ve been thinking about it ever since the Great Surrender at Ail and Eil, observing and taking notes, and I can tell you that I don’t much like what I see. I can also tell you that I, personally, after having helped to defeat the Amplitur and all their allies, am not prepared to passively accept that future.” Jaws clenched in anger, he shook his fist at them.

“We put an end to the Purpose! We won the victory! And now we’re expected to meekly hand it over and stagger off unprotestingly into oblivion.”

It was dead silent in the room when he finished.

A final protest against mutating times, al-Haikim thought uneasily. A last polemic raised against the changing order. Or was there something more?

A pensive Lieutenant Colonel Otumbo rose. He’d known Levaughn longer than any of them, even Higham. “I assume you’ve got something in mind, Nicholas. Military dictatorship?” A few nervous titters greeted this brazen query.

Levaughn’s smile returned. “You always did have a flair for the melodramatic, Rashidi. Even in combat.” The lieutenant colonel grinned thinly. “No, I’m not thinking along lines like that. Notwithstanding my stature, I’m no would-be Napoleon or MacArthur.” This time the laughs came easier. “I’ve no desire to rule any kind of empire, military or otherwise. I just want to see to it that after all we’ve done for the races of the Weave, Humankind gets back what it deserves.”

He had them now, al-Haikim saw. Most of them, anyway. Of course, the men and women in the room had been carefully chosen in the first place, presumably because Levaughn or someone else thought they would be receptive to his message. Al-Haikim wondered what he’d done to qualify. First explanation, then attack, then denial. A very effective technique, which Levaughn delivered persuasively.

“The Weave’s been an effective organization for over a thousand years,” Levaughn was saying. “Now me, I dislike chaos. I think the Weave should be preserved. If necessary, in spite of itself. That’s not too much to hope for. I think it can be done, and I think that we can help do it. I also think that we should be given our just place within the final structure. Not only us, but the Mazvec, and the T’returia, and all the others who used to be allied with the Amplitur. Hell, if the poor dim-witted Lepar deserve full membership, don’t we?” This time the chorus of agreement was barely restrained. Levaughn nodded in satisfaction.

“How is all this going to be brought about, General?” someone asked.

Levaughn looked at her. “I’m just a simple soldier. I started out with field armor and munitions and worked my way up in rank, if not in sophistication. I’m sure as hell no philosopher. I can give orders, but I’m not an innovator.”

“Got a S’van handy?” someone quipped. There were a few desultory chuckles.

“No. I don’t think the S’van would look kindly on any attempt to sustain the Weave by Human methods. But there is someone here, a guest of mine, who represents a school of thought that’s their equal when it comes to implementing prognostication. Regardless of your initial reactions, or what you may think personally, I’d appreciate it if you’d give your undivided attention.” He shrugged. “Afterward everybody can decide for themselves how they feel about it.”

He turned to his right. People leaned forward curiously as the door leading to the next hallway opened. Though al-Haikim didn’t see anything immediately, he heard clearly the astonished exclamations of those who could. Then he saw for himself as Levaughn’s guest walked into view.

Waddled, rather.

It turned to face them and halted, tentacles curled formally against the sides of its face, slitted black-and-gold eyes swiveling independently at the tips of short stalks to regard an entranced audience of former enemies. Silver blotches bloomed and contracted within the orange skin as chromophores reacted to shifting emotions. Container pouches were slung just behind the eyestalks, within easy reach of the flexible tentacles. A translator of unusual design hung below the recessed mouthparts. The Amplitur wore nothing recognizable as clothing.

There being nothing appropriate for it to sit or rest on, it stood. Looking at the creature it was difficult to see how the four stumpy legs could support the large, flabby mass. Those knowledgeable about the old enemy knew that it would have been more comfortable in a pool of shallow brine.

When it spoke, a lifetime of training caused many of those present to tense, even though they knew it could not affect them mentally the way it did the other races of the Weave. Facts, however, could not entirely banish old fears.

The horny mouthparts made a rasping, sucking sound that the translator struggled to transmute into comprehensible Huma.

“I bid you all greetings and good health. I am Cast-creative-Seeking, who is grateful to be this day in your company. You will excuse me if I have to leave suddenly. I find the atmosphere in here both too dry and too cool for comfort. This I will temporarily bear for the sake of viable communication.”

“We could turn the heat up,” someone offered, “and try to scrounge a watering can.” Those sitting next to the officer who spoke laughed.

“Human humor,” the Amplitur observed unemotionally. “A trait we do not entirely understand. Sometimes we feel deprived.”

Al-Haikim rubbed his mustache, a nervous habit. This was the ancient enemy par excellence, and it was addressing them as matter-of-factly as a juvenile entertainment performer. No matter how much it or Levaughn attempted to put them at ease, al-Haikim still found himself considering the best means of escape and attack. He tried to make himself relax, telling himself firmly that there was no threat here. Only part of him would accept that.

What the hell was it doing on Daccar, as General Levaughn’s guest, no less?

Gradually apprehension gave way to curiosity. It was inevitable. This Amplitur was the first of its kind most of those present had ever encountered in the flesh. The desire to listen and learn was irresistible. Al-Haikim was no less susceptible than anyone else in the room.

He told himself that the Amplitur could not mess with his mind because he was Human. It was not armed, it rasped words of friendship, and Levaughn had surely had it thoroughly checked out before allowing it into his home, much less onto Daccar. Without a Crigolit or Mazvec or similar armed escort to manipulate, it was virtually helpless.

Despite this, and the fact that the war had been over for years, not everyone present was prepared to be quite so understanding. Manifest anger prompted one officer to rise.

“What’s this thing doing here, General? If I want to see biological curiosities, I’ll go to the zoo. What’s it got to do with us?”

Levaughn took no umbrage at the other’s tone. “Maybe nothing. All you need to know right now is that Cast-creative-Seeking is my guest. We’ve been communicating, exchanging ideas and thoughts, for quite a while. Until now our relationship has been entirely private.” His eyes narrowed just slightly as he scanned his visitors. “I’d like to request that knowledge of this meeting and what transpires here does not go beyond this room.” Levaughn was polite, but insistent.

“Not long ago I reached the point where I felt that our dialogue had earned a wider audience. It’ll be interesting to see if you agree. Some of it you’ve already heard from me.”

Another lieutenant colonel spoke hesitantly. “General, are we talking here about some kind of alliance between us and the Amplitur?”

“Now, how do you think that news would be received?” said Levaughn. “The other members of the Weave wouldn’t stand for it … not that they could do anything about it,” he added darkly.

“Cast-creative-Seeking and his brethren are simply seeking common ground with their former adversaries, so that we can better understand one another and coexist peacefully. Nothing unnatural about that.”

Tentacles unfurled and gesturing, the Amplitur addressed them anew. “For a long time your kind and mine were enemies. A regrettable state of affairs largely due, we now firmly believe, to ignorance on both sides. As you know, we the Amplitur abhor violence because it removes good minds from participation in the Purpose.”

“You didn’t seem to abhor it when you attacked Earth,” someone blurted accusingly. Mutters of assent rose from others in the room.

The alien was not fazed by the reminder. “That was a long time ago. It was what we felt had to be done at the time. We were panicked by the effectiveness of the first Human soldiers the Weave had recruited. As subsequent developments proved, our panic was not misplaced.” Somewhat to their own surprise, this drew knowing smiles from several in the audience.

“We responded according to the directives formulated by our best minds, functioning in accord with the principles of the Purpose. What is the Purpose, after all?” Someone groaned. “I’m sure you know.”

“Yeah, we know,” said another lieutenant. “We just don’t agree with it, that’s all.”

“I did not mean to provoke. This is, after all, an old argument we clearly cannot win. We hew to the Purpose, you do not. So it shall be. Please believe me when I say that though we have fought one another, the Amplitur have never had anything but the greatest respect for your kind. In your singular determination you are more like us than any other species we have ever encountered.” A couple of those present made as if to object, but the Amplitur hurried on.

“You are the only species we cannot influence mentally, cannot persuade by projective suggestion. You possess a unique neurological defense of which you were completely unaware until you encountered us. What does this tell us? That we are the only two species whose minds operate on a different, higher plane, albeit in disparate ways. You cannot be suggested, and we can only suggest.” Al-Haikim tensed in spite of himself, but the Amplitur paid no special attention to him. What would be its reaction, he wondered, if it learned of the Core and the Ampliturlike abilities of its constituents?

“What wisdom may astute analysts glean from this observation?” There was no immediate response and the Amplitur did not let the silence linger. It waved a tentacle high, the four flexible tips floating like so many airborne worms. “Does it not suggest that despite our disparate histories and evolution we may where it matters have more in common than any other two intelligent species?”

Shouts of disagreement and indignation rose from the gathering. “How can you say that?” someone sputtered.

“By now you have been exposed to galactic diversity long enough to know that where true interspecies compatibility is concerned, mere physical appearance counts for nothing. Like it or not, that is an ancient tenet of the Purpose.”

“Even if our minds are similar,” said the elder Brigadier Higham, “and being no biologist I’m not ready to concede that, our aims and ideals are still diametrically at odds with one other.”

“Are they truly?” The Amplitur focused both eyes on him. “For a very long time we, too, thought that. When we first invited you to join with us you refused, as had a number of other species. But this is a disagreement with a long history, which we will not settle here.

“What is important is that you defeated us. We admit that, and as you know, we do not lie. I am here only as a supplicant, requesting and not demanding your consideration.”

“Then you’re not asking for some kind of alliance?”

“No. There can be no alliance between victor and defeated because they are by definition unequal. What I am here to do on behalf of my kind is to ask for you, as Humans, to take up the mantle of guidance from us.”

Levaughn stepped forward to deal with the bewilderment and confusion that were the immediate result of the Amplitur’s unexpected declaration.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we stand at a crossroads of history. Do we accept the irrelevant status to which the Weave would quietly relegate us, or do we step forward and grasp for ourselves the position of leadership which we have rightfully earned?” His eyes blazed. “A new age beckons Humankind. Why should it not begin here?”

The cynical lieutenant who’d spoken earlier didn’t hesitate. “You speak, General, of leadership. Leadership of what: the Weave … or the Purpose?”

“You do not understand.” The Amplitur entwined its tentacles. “Let me explain.

“Since you were buddings you have been taught to hate the Purpose. What, then, is the Purpose? Little more than a euphemism for sensible cooperation between intelligences.”

“Cooperation dominated by you!” the junior officer shot back.

“We did not dominate: we led. Someone must lead. Some must give direction. For a very long time it was the Amplitur. Now it is clear that is no longer to be. This is not something that distresses us. Only the endemically foolish refuse to resign themselves to reality, and we are not fools.

“Leadership is a great burden. Even as it can weigh down a strong individual, so also it can an entire species. We are timeworn and tired. The thought of passing responsibility on to a younger, more vibrant species does not distress us.”

“You want us to take over the Purpose? After fighting to obliterate it?” a major asked.

“Call it whatever you will. Galactic civilization, if it pleases you. Someone must assume leadership. Ignore the Purpose for now, if it suits you. As time passes you will find that the Purpose does not ignore you.

“Consider the Weave. Until they acquired in the Amplitur a common enemy to unite against, they were at best an indecisive association of mutually suspicious species with ambiguous aims and a parlous future. They bickered and quarreled endlessly among themselves. That is not civilization. Left leaderless as they were before, they will once again degenerate into mutual acrimony and fighting as each species goes its own way.”

“That’s your opinion,” said the irrepressible lieutenant. “We call it independence.”

“Yes, your vaunted independence.” The Amplitur shifted its bulk. “There is a fine line, my young antagonist, between independence and anarchy. Bind together thinking beings in a real consolidation and you preserve civilization.

“What if someday another new species is encountered: one with our aims but your regressive behavioral characteristics? Would it not be better to be able to contest them from within the framework of a great and powerful Weave, instead of one riven and weakened by traditional internal dissension? The universe is a vast and dangerous place in which too much ‘independence’ might one day prove fatal.

“Listen to your own general! Who better to assume leadership than your kind? Not the reticent Hivistahm, for all their organizational skills. Not the S’van, for all their dexterous intelligence. Nor the Massood, fighters like yourselves. Who, then, but Humankind?”

“We don’t want it,” said the major earnestly. “No matter the rationalization, we’re not going to fight our former allies.”

“Who spoke of violence? Not I. The Amplitur spoke always of peace. Do you really think they would resist you as they resisted us, if it was made known that our two species were working side by side for the greater good? Perhaps only the Massood, and they would not resist long. They might challenge the idea, the O’o’yan and the Lepar and the rest, but they could not resist the reality. What sensible species would try to war against Humans assisted by Amplitur? There would be no fighting. It could all be done peacefully, and for the greater good.”

“Okay. So what do you get out of it?” the lieutenant asked sharply.

“Us?” Cast-creative-Seeking regarded the speaker mournfully out of ancient eyes whose depths could not be plumbed. “We see cooperation preserved between intelligences. We see it expanded and refined. Do not call it the Purpose. Call it common sense. In that is satisfaction enough.

“Remember that I cannot lie, and I cannot influence you mentally. We would not seek domination, or leadership. Always we will be present to offer help and advice, as those called viziers and cabinet ministers once offered counsel to individual rulers on your own world. A useful role for an aged, experienced people like ourselves. Or if you prefer, we will do nothing. We will retire to our homeworlds and let you proceed as you choose.

“But if you should opt for our assistance, we can begin by guaranteeing you the cooperation of all those who once were allied to us: the Mazvec and Ashregan, the Crigolit and T’returia, the Acaria and Segunians and Korath and all the rest. This I promise you: The true difficulty of your task will become apparent only after your ascension is no longer opposed.

“Presently you fight and argue among yourselves. That is because you no longer have an appropriate alternative outlet for your energies. Leadership of a new Weave will provide that. The present Weave only encourages your internal dissension.”

“The Weave has nothing to do with it,” argued the major.

“Precisely. They have nothing to do with it. They make no attempt to intervene to help because they are content to let you debilitate yourselves. That way they can keep you under control. They fear you. Bear in mind that we do not. Where friendship is concerned, respect is more to be desired than fear.

“Don’t you see? Leadership is what you have evolved for. You are suited to the task. Now that we have been defeated, you are the only people who can hold a galactic coalition closely enough together to be useful, by enforcing cooperation amidst a multitude of fractious diversity.”

None of those present had anticipated having to deal with matters of profound import when they’d received their invitations to gather at Levaughn’s home. Now they had been given an immense amount to think about.

“I am not used to forming vocalizations,” the Amplitur informed his listeners. “It is tiring, and I have said enough. But I will try to answer any questions you may still have. Bear in mind as you ask them that I cannot lie.”

“You really have no intentions other than to act as our advisors?” one of the lieutenant colonels inquired.

“Nothing more. We seek stability above all else.”

“But that’s not your Purpose, the melding of intelligences you’ve always spoken of and fought for,” said a voice from the audience.

“True. You may be aware of our reputation for patience. In the absence of viable alternatives we will forgo active agitation on behalf of the Purpose because we firmly believe that in a thousand years, or two, or longer, all species will come around to our way of thinking, will see the universe as we see it. The additional wait is to be regretted, but because we have lost at fighting we must now seek to excel at waiting.”

“How can we trust you? We still don’t know very much about you,” the major pointed out.

Cast-creative-Seeking spread tentacles wide. “We are disarmed. Come and study us. Our biologists will work side by side with yours. Learn all that you will. Nothing will be withheld, nothing concealed. We can learn from each other. Examine in depth our minds, as we have tried to examine yours.”

It was a dangerous slip. Uneasy murmurs rose from the assembled as those present who were familiar with wartime incidents of Amplitur dissection and attempted mental manipulation of captured Humans had unpleasant memories jogged. But Cast-creative-Seeking spoke with such openness that the initial agitation soon passed. Except for al-Haikim, whose ancestors had been subject to precisely that kind of Amplitur experimentation. Nothing on his face betrayed what he was feeling at that moment, however. As a member of the Core he’d had to practice reaction restraint since childhood.

Levaughn surveyed his guests. “What’ve we got to lose here? If Cast-creative-Seeking is indeed telling the truth and his people want nothing but to help us take our rightful place in the scheme of things, where’s the harm? If nothing else, we can learn a lot from them. Me, I think this is our destiny. It sure as hell beats fighting and killing each other.

“I’m not asking for a vote of confidence or anything like that now. I know this is a lot to think about. So return to your duty assignments, go home, and think about what you’ve seen and heard here today. All I ask is that you don’t discuss it with anyone you don’t trust implicitly. There are reactionary forces on Daccar and elsewhere who wouldn’t understand what’s transpired here today and who would take steps to try and prevent its recurrence.

“It’s our future that’s at stake here, ladies and gentlemen. Not just ours individually, you and I, but that of our entire species. I think our joint proposal,” and he gestured in the direction of the silent Amplitur, “is a good template for future Human development.” He smiled paternally.

“I know I can trust each and every one of you to be discreet as well as thoughtful. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here today.”

Cast-creative-Seeking waved a tentacle for attention. “I will remain here some time as General Levaughn’s guest. If you would like to converse with me further, I look forward to such arrangements. Please take advantage of my presence. I am not a holo, not a projection. I think I understand you, your culture and your needs, as well as any of my kind.”

“Weave xenopsychs have been studying us for decades and they don’t understand us,” said the major.

“I said I understood you as well as any of my kind.” Cast-creative-Seeking regarded the speaker with both eyes. In the closed room those bulbous orbs seemed open and inoffensive. “It is quite true that no one understands you completely. I would be grateful if you would continue to educate me.”

Obviously exhausted by the need to speak aloud while tolerating climatic differences well outside its comfort zone, the Amplitur turned to its Human host and murmured something beyond range of the translator, in its own language. Al-Haikim noted with interest that Levaughn appeared to understand. Clearly this was not an enterprise the general had embarked upon in haste a few weeks or months ago.

“I’ll be available for questions also,” Levaughn informed them. “Don’t hesitate to ask. Discuss it among yourselves.” The sealed door at the back of the room opened to allow the assembled to depart.

In twos and threes the officers rose to leave, conversing animatedly among themselves as they filed out. Levaughn watched them go, much pleased with himself. He felt it had gone well, and Cast-creative-Seeking concurred.

How many of them would throw in with him? How many had the vision? He’d chosen them carefully and he needed their support. One could lead the way to a glorious future, he knew, but one could not forge it alone.

Energetically ignoring Levaughn’s strictures, al-Haikim cautiously but efficiently proceeded to disseminate the proceedings of the encounter to the rest of the modest Core population on Daccar. From there it spread both in person and via Underspace transmission to members on other worlds.

The reaction among those whose ancestors had been operated upon by Amplitur surgeons was predictably outraged, the more so when they learned that al-Haikim believed Levaughn’s message had gone down well with his audience. Furious debate ensued on how best to expunge the infection before it could spread. Not that it was anything new. The symptoms were all too familiar from Human tribal history. Only the circumstances were different.

Dangerously different. No would-be Human despot had enjoyed the services of the Amplitur as advisors.

Pleading inexperience, al-Haikim called for assistance. He was more than willing to help carry out whatever plan of action the Core seniors deemed advisable, but felt incapable of fashioning one himself.