The Expanse - J.M. Dillard [38]
Slowly, deliberately, an old marsupial covered in thick, graying fur turned toward Degra. This was the great, hulking Narsanyala. He formed his question with such languor that Degra fought to keep his patience. “When will it be ready?”
It was easy to believe, given the marsupials’ tendency toward torpor, that they were harmless and stupid, but such was not the case. Narsanyala’s people, while they much preferred the company of family, were shrewd when it came to politics, and had proven themselves fierce fighters when attacked. Degra looked down at Narsanyala’s hands, and the fingers that terminated in thick, sharp black claws; while the marsupial was by nature affable, he was also capable of slitting Degra open from throat to pubis with a single strong swipe.
“The next series of tests are being prepared,” Degra answered tersely. He wished to give no further information; the primates, possessed of the greatest engineering talent, had taken control of the weapons project. And with good reason: The reptilians and insectoids would rush headlong into attacking Earth well before the Xindi were ready—and the marsupials and aquatics would dally too long, and permit the homeworld to be destroyed.
As expected, Shresht reacted with another shrill outburst of insectoid.
You said your “test” was successful! You said the probe did what it was designed to do.
A muscle in Degra’s lean, sculpted cheek twitched, but his tone remained even as he countered, “The new weapon is far more complex.”
Facial skin flashing like dull jewels, Guruk turned to look down upon Degra. The cadence of the reptilian’s speech was slower, calmer than that of the insectoids, but it was clear he agreed with Shresht. “We’ll accomplish nothing if all you do is run tests.”
His aide hissed agreement; the insectoids let go a cacophony of whistles, chirps, chatters.
True to his character, Narsanyala raised his voice just loud enough to be heard above the din. “We must be patient ... follow the plan we all agreed to.”
He graced Degra with a glance indicating support; grateful, Degra returned it. There was a certain wisdom in the design of the Xindi world: The passion of the reptilians and insectoids was balanced out by the coolness of the marsupials and aquatics.
And, of course, Degra secretly believed the primates were meant to be leader of them all.
While he ostensibly agreed with Mallora that the appearance of the Earth ship might be coincidence, it was certainly an uncomfortable one, and one that needed to be further examined. For that, he would rely on the reptilians’ military talents.
He turned to Guruk, and said softly, “Learn everything you can about this human vessel.”
At once, the chattering of the insectoids eased; Guruk hissed his approval.
Degra let his gaze fall once again upon the computer readout in the table’s center, and the bright, blinking representation of the human vessel.
Whatever the reason for its appearance, it would certainly have to be destroyed.
T’Pol sat in what had become Enterprise’s command center—a large, dark chamber filled with monitor stacked upon monitor, most of which were unused, the screens a dull opaque gray. A large, brightly lit display dominated the wall before her: a starchart of the Expanse. On one edge, a single planet circling a star blinked, indicating their current destination.
On this particular day, T’Pol wore civilian clothing, a low-cut V neck suit in a shade of bright steel blue with a white belt slung low on the hip, far too outspoken for a Vulcan diplomatic aide. Upon rising, she had stood before her tiny closet and reached, out of habit, for her usual drab Vulcan uniform—then dropped her hand.
One Earth month and eleven days had passed since they had entered the Expanse, and she had failed to realize, after all that time, that she no longer had the right to wear it. That troubled her—not that she had lost the right, but that she had not remembered.
So she