-- Si-Rrit

Stkaa-Emissary paced restlessly, impatient and nervous at once, waiting in the Patriarch's quarters for the Patriarch to get back from his hunt. Occasionally he stopped to take in the vista. He had never been to kzin before, but everything about it, the smells, the colours, the very air, told him he was home, home in a way that even his native W'kkai had never been, much as he missed it. Still, the panorama gave him no pleasure. The Patriarch's Tower was the tallest structure in the Citadel by design and the tallest on all of Kzinhome by decree. Its windows gave him a panoramic view of the vast fortress and the rolling countryside beyond it. Surrounding the Citadel were small groups of low buildings built of stone and stonewood, the homes and shops of smallholders and crafters who served those who served the Patriarch. Further out he could see great expanses of ripening fields, hsahk and meeflri for the grazing meat beasts, broken up by the huge tracts of forestland that marked the hunt parks of the Lesser Prides of Kzin, whose smaller strongholds were scattered across the plain like children's toys. Everywhere the riding lights of gravcars sparkled like flashflits in the early dusk, shuttling between the splashes of light that marked communities and enterprises big and small. On the eastern horizon the last rays of the setting sun glinted from the steady stream of freighters shuttling to the spaceport called Sea-of-Stars from the orbital dockyards invisible overhead. At regular intervals sat the domes of space-defence weapons, firepower enough to rip a fleet from orbit. Eight-to-the-sixth kzinti and eight-to-the-seventh slaves occupied half a continent here, churning out products from wine to warships. The Plain of Stgrat was the single greatest concentration of military and economic power in the Patriarchy.

To Stkaa-Emissary it seemed insignificant. He had been to Earth.

The doors opened and he spun around, expecting the Patriarch's advance guard. There was only a single kzin, followed by a buzzing Whrloo slave and a floating servitorb.

"Where is…" He began, then caught sight of the crimson sash and the sigil on it. "Patriarch! I abase myself."

Meerz-Rrit waved away his crouching obeisance. "Stkaa-Emissary, welcome to my home."

Stkaa-Emissary studied Meerz-Rrit carefully. The Patriarch comes without guards, without retainers. Does this mean I have his trust, or is he simply that confident? The Patriarch was tall and very fit. The handle of his variable sword was well worn, its scabbard made for ease of use and not ostentation. His belt held no more than a pawful of ears. He does not need to duel often, Emissary decided, but when he does he wins.

"Clean kill I trust, Patriarch?"

There were half a dozen ornate prrstet in the room, set around a low obsidian table polished to a mirror gloss. Meerz-Rrit hopped on to one and reclined, inviting his guest into another with an open paw.

"Clean kill, Emissary, it was a satisfying one, a prime zitragor." Four Kdatlyno filed into the room, carrying the still warm kill on a large platter, now cut into thick slices and seasoned. A pair of pointed skeceri blades skewered the meat so it could be handled and cut without bloodying the paws.

Stkaa-Emissary jumped up and settled himself carefully. "It is an honor to share it with you, Patriarch." He began carefully, pausing to spear a section of haunch with his skeceri and tear at it, savouring the juices and spice. It was prime indeed, like nothing he had ever tasted on W'kkai.

"I trust you find your chambers comfortable." Meerz-Rrit was solicitous, polite to a fault.

"The House of Victory is both spacious and lavish."

"And your colleagues are congenial, I trust."

"It is an honor to meet the leaders of the Great-Prides, and fascinating to see how our species has adapted to life among the stars. There are more ways to be kzinti than I ever imagined." He paused before getting down to business. "My goal here is simple, Patriarch. As you know, Stkaa Pride has borne the brunt of the campaign against the monkeys."

"With honor, if not success." The Patriarch beckoned to the Whrloo, which picked up a decanter and two flagons from the servitorb and buzzed to the table with them. "This is shasca."

"Thank you Patriarch." Emissary lifted his flagon and sipped, the rich blending of fresh blood and fermented berry was exquisite on his palate. "It is excellent." I am evolved for this world, he thought and drank more deeply before continuing. "The kz'eerkti present us a unique problem. Not only have we been unable to conquer them but we have lost entire worlds to their counterattacks. Now our base on Ch'Aakin has fallen and W'kkai itself is suffering grievously under human embargo. Even this we retain only because they have not chosen to take it."

"Hrrrr. In the time of my thrice-grand sire they besieged Kzinhome itself. Their forbearance is surprising."

"It is not mercy that stops them." Emissary paused for emphasis, drank again from the flagon. "The situation is not acceptable, not for Stkaa Pride, not for the Patriarchy, not for our species. We must finally subjugate them."

"A worthy goal, and one I am surprised Stkaa Pride has not already accomplished." Stkaa-Emissary flattened his ears at the implied criticism. "What will you ask of Rrit Pride in this regard?" Meerz-Rrit speared a hunk of zitragor haunch and wolfed it down.

"The humans represent a threat such as our species has never experienced before. I believe they now pose a threat not only to Stkaa pride but to the entire Patriarchy. When the Great Pride Circle meets I intend to ask for the participation of all the Great Prides in an extended campaign to eliminate the monkey menace permanently." Stkaa-Emissary made the open-pawed gesture of deference. "With your support, Patriarch, I am sure we will get it."

"And your dispute with the Cvail Pride?"

"Cvail Pride presents a problem. Chmee-Cvail hopes to strangle us in order to gain for himself what we have lost."

"With some considerable success, I understand."

"Unfortunately true, Patriarch. A key factor in the loss of Ch'Aakin was our difficulty in moving supplies due to the intransigence of Cvail Pride."

Meerz-Rrit turned a paw over in contemplation. "So perhaps Rrit Pride should throw itself behind Cvail Pride. Their success is a measure of a prowess that perhaps you lack."

"No!" Emissaries ears snapped up and forward. "Patriarch, this is no longer a matter of gaining strakh enough for a world or a fleet. Great Pride rivalry weakens us, and we are in grave danger. This is a matter of species survival."

"The monkeys possess only a pawful of worlds. Your Pride's inability to defeat them speaks poorly of you, and now you inflate their prowess to excuse your incompetence." Meerz-Rrit fixed his gaze on Emissary. We shall see how he defends himself.

"It is not the number of worlds which counts, Patriarch, but the number of sentients. Their homeworld numbers thrice-eight-to-the-eight-and-three individuals. Thrice-eight-to-the-eight-and-three! Their military potential is tremendous and their savagery unimaginable."

"Savagery." Meerz-Rrit flipped his tail dismissively. "How much ferocity does a herbivore need to catch a root?"

"As herbivores they do not understand the dangers of unrestrained aggression. These creatures do not fight wars like any other species. They fight without regard for spoils, they do not try to capture slaves, possess no concept of honor. They give no thought to the use of the land they acquire and thus use conversion weapons without restraint. Their single focus is the annihilation of their enemy, of us. They destroy utterly what they cannot possess, even what they simply do not care to possess."

"Surely you exaggerate."

"I wish I did Patriarch. On Hssin they ruptured the domes from space, slaves and warriors alike drowned in their own blood. It was not a battle, not a conquest, just honorless slaughter, they did not even bother to scour the ruins for booty. It was the same on Ch'Aakin. I was there, and few enough of us escaped with our lives."

"So you say. And yet time and again they have failed to follow up on their initial success. If they were as fearsome as you claim we would long ago be their slave race."

"As herbivores they do not understand the folly of leaving wounded quarry alive. Believe me when I speak of their ferocity. They have no interest in slaves or booty, what does the tuskvor want with meat? But when the hunter draws close the herd will charge and trample all before it, not for gain but for safety."

"Yet surely leading the entire Patriarchy in hunt-conquest cannot fail to enhance the strakh of Stkaa Pride at the expense of Cvail Pride." Meerz-Rrit narrowed his eyes. "Perhaps even at my own expense."

"Strakh is no use to slaves, or to the dead. When we met the kz'eerkti we enjoyed tremendous advantages in technology and space warfare experience. We failed to conquer them. Each new attempt has been better organized and better equipped, and yet now we lose ground. Their technology has become fully the equal of our own."

"It is not technology that wins wars, it is the courage of the warriors."

"Only where the combatants meet with honor, Patriarch. The way the monkeys wage war only raw industrial strength counts. Already on their few worlds they match the entire Patriarchy. They never duel among themselves, so nothing slows their growth rate but lack of space, and they are content, even eager, to crowd closer than a basketful of kits."

"Hrrr. I have seen the images." Not that I have quite believed them. Emissary had too much status to lie, but Meerz-Rrit had no doubt he was presenting the truth to his pride's best advantage.

"I have been there! I went to negotiate with their rulers on Earth, in a city called Nyewrrk. In a structure the size of this tower eight-eight-cubed, even eight-to-the-fourth might live." He gestured out the tower windows. "And from here to the horizon was nothing but more buildings larger still, immensely larger, dwellings stacked like pirtitz on a platter."

Meerz-Rrit wrinkled his nostrils. "My nose is offended already."

"You cannot understand, Patriarch!" Stkaa-Emissary fought down the urge to gag at the memory. "They wallow in their own filth. The sky is literally brown with pollutants and their drinking water reeks of the chemicals they must use to strip their own sewage from it. I could not eat for days. But this is how they live. And from space you can see the lights at night, every continent is a solid mass of light! The entire planet is populated like this."

"I am convinced of their decadence, Emissary. What is your point?" And what is his aim here? What is the deeper game?

"We are no longer the predators here, we can no longer scream and leap. They breed like vatach, so fast that on Earth they must have reproductive laws to prevent them drowning in the flesh of their offspring. On a colony the population doubles and redoubles as you watch! Unchecked they will inevitably expand into our sphere and over-run us as casually as the zitragor moves to fresh stands of grass. They have no liver for conquest, but their social system makes it inevitable."

"As does ours."

"Exactly, Patriarch. One species must be conquered by the other, there is no other way. I am naturally convinced that it should be ours that prevails."

Meerz-Rrit extended his claws and contemplated them. "Your arguments are compelling, Emissary."

"The facts speak for themselves, Patriarch."

"They do. My question is, what facts aren't speaking now?"

"I don't understand."

"Let me give you the scent. Stkaa-Pride has fought this conquest war for generations now and has failed miserably. Cvail-Pride seeks your ears."

"Cvail-Pride's ears will swing with ours on the monkey's belt."

"I understand they have declared skalazaal."

He knows! Stkaa-Emissary managed to control his reaction. Did the Patriarch know, or merely suspect? "The War of honor is a Pride matter. I cannot speak for my patriarch."

"Of course not." Meerz-Rrit quaffed his flagon, inhaling the rich taste of the shasca. The smell masked the subtle hint of fear that had crept into Stkaa-Emissary's scent, but that had already been enough to confirm his theory. Patriarch's Telepath had been correct and Cvail Pride was at Stkaa Pride's throat. Skalazaal had returned to the Patriarchy. That had serious implications for Rrit Pride. He looked out the windows at the flitting lights in the darkening sky. And if half of what Emissary is saying about the monkeys was true, the Patriarchy faced a dangerous adversary even as its internal frictions rose. I must have Rrit-Conserver's counsel on this, and I must see the monkeys for myself. Soon enough he would meet a monkey, when his brother Yiao-Rrit returned from his own mission to the kz'eerkti Patriarch in Nyewrrk, but there was no need for Stkaa-Emissary to know that. He raised his flagon to Emissary. "The shasca is excellent, is it not?"