Dirge - Alan Dean Foster [117]
The slightly smaller thranx gestured for his companion to be calm. “Have no fear. The surface underfoot is firm and unyielding. These Pitar have violated every accepted norm of civilized behavior.”
“No one disputes that.” Wirmbatusek watched a line of ants marching along the base of the log. To a single ant, the insectoid thranx might well have been a vision of God. “No one disagrees with the humans’ urge to seek revenge. We would doubtless react similarly, albeit less noisily, if the barbarity had been visited upon us. But it was not. What happened on Argus Five does not concern us.”
“Why not? Because only mammals died? Because only human females were dishonored?”
“It is too facile to say that we should help the humans.” Sliding off the log, Wirmbatusek settled himself on his trulegs. Using all four hands he daintily picked bits of bark and other debris from his gleaming blue-green exoskeleton and the thorax pouch that hung from his second major body segment. “First, they have not asked us, or any other species, for assistance. Next, it is not incumbent on the thranx to aid them because there is no treaty or agreement between our two races particularizing any such action. There are no reasons for us to become involved and many why we should keep our distance. For one thing, like so much else about them the martial capability of these Pitar is unknown. We could end up having allied ourselves with the losing side.” He flicked a fallen leaf from his abdomen.
“I would not bet against the humans in a war.” Finally starting to grow uneasy at the feel of water lapping around his legs, Asperveden carefully backed out of the shallows.
“Nor would I, but neither would I choose to gamble with the neutrality that preserves our civilization unscathed. War is not a lark, and gambling on it not entertainment.”
One foot at a time, Asperveden shook water from his impermeable chitin. “The estimable Desvendapur would have much to say about this situation.”
“No doubt, if he was living. I wish I could have seen him perform. To my knowledge none of his poetry dealt with war, despite the gravity of his clan and family history.” The larger thranx followed a pair of hornbills as they glided across the lake. “What makes you think the humans would accept our help even if it were to be offered? A great many of them despise us and cannot even stand to be in our presence. Those of us here and at the Amazon hive are isolated from such individual conflicts.”
“I realize that our relations are still developing.” Feeling the first pangs of morning hunger, Asperveden began to remove food from his own pouch. “I am not naïve. Much work remains to be done to bring our two peoples together to the point where trust is accepted instead of debated, and genuine friendship is not an isolated occurrence.” Biting into a starch loaf with all four opposing jaws, he chewed reflectively. “This conflict would be a perfect opportunity to do just that.”
Approaching his friend, Wirmbatusek waited to be offered food, withholding his own offering until the smaller thranx made the appropriate gesture. “More than strategic concerns are involved in this. As many thranx are suspicious of the humans as they are of us. It is hard enough to arrange for meetings, for cultural exchanges, for agreements on minor matters. An alliance that includes provisions for mutual defense lies far in the future.”
“It need not require a formal association.” Asperveden executed the appropriate hand gestures, following which his friend responded in kind. They exchanged food. “The arrangement could be temporary, and understood as such by both sides. Assistance in time of and solely for the duration of conflict, superseding all current agreements, after which the previous status is resumed.”
Wirmbatusek considered. “I am envisioning several fully armed hive warships emerging from space-plus at safe distance beyond the orbit of this world’s moon. I am envisioning the human reaction.