Xarr,” I said.
His face, his tone, his visage, became, if
anything, even more somber. “But siege is not what Frane has
planned. I have a few spies of my own, still, and not every F’rar
is a traitor. It seems that Frane has no intention of siege.”
There was a complete hush in the room.
“What, then?” I asked, finally breaking the
silence with impatience.
Xarr turned his one baleful eye on me. For a
moment he could not speak. “Do you remember what happened to my own
city of Burroughs in the last war?” he asked, his voice choking
with emotion.
I went cold from my ears to my toes. “Yes . .
.” I said slowly.
“Apparently Frane has spent her time wisely,
developing an even greater version of the weapon that wiped my home
from the face of Mars. A concussion device of monstrous
proportions.”
“How–?”
Xarr banged on the table with his clenched
paw. “The how is irrelevant, Sire! It has been done. This is a
fact. Even though your mother destroyed her evil scientist, Talon,
she did not succeed in killing his knowledge. In the hills, all
these years, Frane and her cohorts have been building a weapon more
destructive than anything that has ever been seen on Mars.” He
sighed heavily. “The good news is that it is so massive that it
cannot be transported by airship. Otherwise she would have used it
by now.” Again he sighed, and his voice lowered. “At least then we
would have had a chance to shoot it down, or destroy it with one of
our own superior airships.”
“Why can’t we destroy it on the ground?” I
asked.
“Because we don’t know where it is, and
because it has been broken up into many pieces small enough to hide
in a massive army. It will be reassembled when Frane and her army
reach Olympus Mons, and then detonated.”
Xarr paused again.
“And then,” he said, his voice cracking, “she
will, in one moment, wipe Olympus Mons from the face of Mars.”
Ten
I went to visit
Rella in her cell.
It was not a hospitable place. Dank and dark,
with drizzles of water pooling on the floor, it was well in the
bowels of the explored regions and well guarded. Jift did not want
me to go there but Xarr, who was about to leave for the East,
interceded on my behalf.
“It is good for the boy to see real life,” he
said, which was a mysterious thing for him to say at the time.
Later I knew what he meant.
She received me with courtesy, as always. It
pained me to see this object of my former puppy love so disheveled
and unhappy.
“Are they treating you well?” I asked, almost
timidly.
She looked at me curiously. “Well enough. Why
have you come here, Sire?”
“To hear from your own lips that you are
innocent.”
She turned away from me, and looked up at the
single window, cut high in the rock wall of the cell, which was
dark. It looked out not on daylight outside the mountain but merely
on the tunnel which led here.
“I had a son, your age,” she said. The
sadness of her voice tugged at my heart. She sounded as if she was
speaking to herself, or someone else long gone. “He was killed
after the last war, when violence against my clan peaked. This was
just after your mother’s victory. He was just a kit, and was in his
father’s arms.”
She turned to face me. “My husband was
murdered, too, trying to save my son. I had one of two roads to
take, then. I could take the road of vengeance, and try to pay the
republic back for what they had done to my family – or I could make
sure that something like the last war never happened again.”
She took a step toward me, and her eyes
flashed. “I wanted to take the road of vengeance. With all my heart
I wanted to. But I did not. My father was a diplomat, and his
father before him. We all opposed Frane. For their troubles, my
father and grandfather were murdered by their own people. I decided
to become a diplomat, too, in the new republic, and do everything I
could for my clan.” Her voice became a hiss, and she took another
step
His face, his tone, his visage, became, if
anything, even more somber. “But siege is not what Frane has
planned. I have a few spies of my own, still, and not every F’rar
is a traitor. It seems that Frane has no intention of siege.”
There was a complete hush in the room.
“What, then?” I asked, finally breaking the
silence with impatience.
Xarr turned his one baleful eye on me. For a
moment he could not speak. “Do you remember what happened to my own
city of Burroughs in the last war?” he asked, his voice choking
with emotion.
I went cold from my ears to my toes. “Yes . .
.” I said slowly.
“Apparently Frane has spent her time wisely,
developing an even greater version of the weapon that wiped my home
from the face of Mars. A concussion device of monstrous
proportions.”
“How–?”
Xarr banged on the table with his clenched
paw. “The how is irrelevant, Sire! It has been done. This is a
fact. Even though your mother destroyed her evil scientist, Talon,
she did not succeed in killing his knowledge. In the hills, all
these years, Frane and her cohorts have been building a weapon more
destructive than anything that has ever been seen on Mars.” He
sighed heavily. “The good news is that it is so massive that it
cannot be transported by airship. Otherwise she would have used it
by now.” Again he sighed, and his voice lowered. “At least then we
would have had a chance to shoot it down, or destroy it with one of
our own superior airships.”
“Why can’t we destroy it on the ground?” I
asked.
“Because we don’t know where it is, and
because it has been broken up into many pieces small enough to hide
in a massive army. It will be reassembled when Frane and her army
reach Olympus Mons, and then detonated.”
Xarr paused again.
“And then,” he said, his voice cracking, “she
will, in one moment, wipe Olympus Mons from the face of Mars.”
Ten
I went to visit
Rella in her cell.
It was not a hospitable place. Dank and dark,
with drizzles of water pooling on the floor, it was well in the
bowels of the explored regions and well guarded. Jift did not want
me to go there but Xarr, who was about to leave for the East,
interceded on my behalf.
“It is good for the boy to see real life,” he
said, which was a mysterious thing for him to say at the time.
Later I knew what he meant.
She received me with courtesy, as always. It
pained me to see this object of my former puppy love so disheveled
and unhappy.
“Are they treating you well?” I asked, almost
timidly.
She looked at me curiously. “Well enough. Why
have you come here, Sire?”
“To hear from your own lips that you are
innocent.”
She turned away from me, and looked up at the
single window, cut high in the rock wall of the cell, which was
dark. It looked out not on daylight outside the mountain but merely
on the tunnel which led here.
“I had a son, your age,” she said. The
sadness of her voice tugged at my heart. She sounded as if she was
speaking to herself, or someone else long gone. “He was killed
after the last war, when violence against my clan peaked. This was
just after your mother’s victory. He was just a kit, and was in his
father’s arms.”
She turned to face me. “My husband was
murdered, too, trying to save my son. I had one of two roads to
take, then. I could take the road of vengeance, and try to pay the
republic back for what they had done to my family – or I could make
sure that something like the last war never happened again.”
She took a step toward me, and her eyes
flashed. “I wanted to take the road of vengeance. With all my heart
I wanted to. But I did not. My father was a diplomat, and his
father before him. We all opposed Frane. For their troubles, my
father and grandfather were murdered by their own people. I decided
to become a diplomat, too, in the new republic, and do everything I
could for my clan.” Her voice became a hiss, and she took another
step
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