Dirge - Alan Dean Foster [116]
Similar confrontations took place wherever Pitar could be found, from the supposedly inviolate compound on Bali to more isolated urban facilities in Brisbane, Delhi, and Lala. Within twenty-four hours of the worldwide broadcast of the unexpurgated recording, not a Pitar was left alive on Earth.
At the time, there were two Pitarian vessels in orbit. In attempting to flee, one was blown apart while the other managed to escape. It being impossible to track a ship in space-plus, the pursuing humans terminated the chase halfway between the moon and distant Mars.
All the while, warships and supply vessels were in the process of assembling—not only in the vicinity of Earth, but around its far-flung colonies as well. From Proycon to Centaurus, from New Riviera to Mantis, ships and personnel gathered. There was no singing of patriotic songs, no mass rallies of fervid supporters. It was all business, serious business, and was organized and conducted accordingly.
Some hoped that the Pitar would admit their crime and capitulate, following which suitable punishment and penalization could be decided upon. Others prayed that the aliens would resist. As the Twin Worlds of the Dominion did not lie that far from either the galactic plane or the expanding human sphere of influence, an answer to these questions was expected soon.
Once they had been informed of Pitarian responsibility for the Treetrunk atrocity, outrage was general among every other civilized species. It did not translate into action, however. The quarrel was between humankind and Pitar, and it would be left to those two civilizations to settle the matter. The Quillp, the Unop-Patha, and everyone else expressed their regret and sorrow and then stood back to see which species would prevail. In this regard the AAnn proffered their condolences as fervently as anyone else, while quietly hoping that both powerful space-going races would permanently and severely incapacitate one another in the coming conflict.
Among the thranx the reaction was one of subdued fury. Arising as they did from an ancient line that had succeeded partly by venerating a single egg-laying queen, they were especially sensitive to any violation of the reproductive system. What the Pitar had done to and with human females sent a ripple of rage through every hive. Even as the humans methodically assembled a vast force to attack the Twin Worlds, vexatious debate seethed among the thranx on how best to respond to the unimaginable barbarity.
“It does not involve us.”
Sprawled atop a convenient log, Wirmbatusek regarded the lake. It was a small body of water surrounded by dense tropical forest, a refuge high in the mountains of Lombok. Nearby, Asperveden was waltzing with a birdwing butterfly, letting it flutter from one truhand to another. Perhaps the huge, iridescent green ornithop recognized a distant alien cousin. More likely it just found the thranx’s chitinous digits a convenient place to rest.
“Of course it involves us.”
Raising a truhand, Asperveden examined the exquisite creature. Compound eye met compound eye. Beautiful, the attaché mused. What the butterfly felt was not recorded. Eventually it tired of the game and flew off, soaring up into the tall vine-draped hardwoods, a pair of thin emerald slabs throwing back the sun.
Wirmbatusek turned his head and antennae in the direction of his friend and coworker. “Keeping a constant watch on the AAnn is enough to worry about. Why would the Grand Council choose to weaken our own defenses to support a massive effort to punish a race that has done nothing to us?”
Exhibiting uncharacteristic daring, Asperveden walked forward until all four trulegs were in the water. Astonished at his own boldness, he stood and watched as the tepid, algae-stained green liquid swirled gently around his limbs. Where he was standing the lake was perhaps ten centimeters deep.
Wirmbatusek’s antennae twitched nervously. “Are