Dirge - Alan Dean Foster [114]
“Absurd.” The Pitar’s voice was unchanged. “No record of the devastation of that unfortunate world exists. If it did, it would have come to light long before now.”
“It was hidden,” Herringale explained. “And only recently recovered.”
The Pitar shifted his position in the cradling chair. “I had been given to understand that your people had scoured the surface of Argus Five and continue to do so without finding anything remotely like what you have just forced me to watch.”
“That is so. However, this recording was not found on Treetrunk. It lay buried and unnoticed on Treetrunk One, the smaller of that martyred world’s two moons. A refugee who fled during the invasion concealed it there. He is the same person who made the recording.”
Ambassador Suin was repeatedly making the Pitarian gesture that signified negativity. “No one escaped the destruction. Your own people say so.” He shifted his legs preparatory to rising. “I do not like this game, and I have important work to supervise.”
“Oh, please.” Herringale leaned forward sharply. “Humor me a moment longer. This really is very important.”
Impatient and reluctant, the ambassador retained his seat. “I disagree, but very well. A few moments more, and then I really must go.”
“Yes. Just a few moments. Does the name Alwyn Mallory mean anything to you?”
The Pitar’s expression rippled. “No. Is this person attached to the diplomatic mission here?”
“Hardly. He’s not even attached to the government. One of your people on the other side of the planet, a diplomatic attaché named Dmis, has met him.”
“I do not know that name, either. I am not expected to know the names of everyone assigned to duty on your world, any more than you would be required to identify everyone working in the diplomatic arm of your government.”
Herringale nodded. “Maybe you should contact and converse with Dmis. He met Mr. Mallory, so he knows that he is a real person. We also know that Mr. Mallory is a real person—an unusually independent and resourceful one. Among other things, Alwyn Mallory is an ex–starship engineer. As a hobby, he obtained and restored a ship’s lifeboat of antiquated design. It was adequate to convey him to the far side of the moon in question, together with a copy he had made of this remote media broadcast. To ensure its safety, he buried the recording on the moon. It has only recently been recovered.”
“A very disturbing story.” Suin pressed outer edges of his hands together in the formal Pitarian manner. Like all his kind he was an extraordinarily handsome individual, tall and regal. Granted unlimited access to the skills of Earth’s finest cosmetic surgeons, Herringale knew he could never look half so imposing.
“The recording has been authenticated. Among the methods employed to do this was the extensive excavation of the specific locales imaged in the tridee. Everything matches up, from the ruined buildings to the traces of blood found in the city of Weald’s central square.” He found that he was compelled to take a swallow of cold water. “I am told that such traces are extensive. Having viewed the recording several times previously, even as a nonexpert I can understand this.”
“I am leaving now.” The ambassador moved to rise. Herringale rose with him. The Pitar towered over the soft-bodied, middle-aged diplomat.
“We have many questions.” Herringale’s voice was as calm as when he had first greeted the alien. “Foremost among these is the desire to know the reason behind the careful evisceration of so many females and the concurrent careful preservation of their reproductive organs. I admit that I am personally interested. I have two daughters of approximately the same age as the young women who are shown in the recording being disemboweled while still alive.” Without realizing what he was doing, he reached out to pluck at the ambassador’s sleeve. “Please, won’t you explain? I’m really, really curious.”
Suin stared down at him. “I intend to register a formal protest with my government. To waste my time with such nonsense is bad enough, but to subject me to additional