Damned 3 - The Spoils of War by Alan Dean Foster

Author:Alan Dean Foster [Foster, Alan Dean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction
ISBN: 0-345-35857-0
Publisher: Del Rey
Published: 2016-03-04T16:00:00+00:00

XII

Disappointment and shock suffused the base when it was discovered that the resident Turlog had deliberately cracked the wall which sealed its chambers off from the cove, allowing seawater to pour in and drown the single occupant. Everyone was reminded that the Turlog were an incomparably morose species whose general disillusionment with life was well known. Although suicides among their kind were infrequent, they were not unprecedented. Weave command dutifully bemoaned the loss of strategic advice.

For their part, the Amplitur deplored the demise of one of their highly valuable dual operatives inside the Weave military structure, and thought no more on it. Though regrettable, such losses were insignificant to the overall conduct of the great conflict.

Straat-ien had to continually reassure himself that he’d made the right decision. Because of all they had been through together he trusted Lalelelang as much as it was possible for one of the Core to trust an outsider. In some ways it was easier than it would have been with a non-Core Human. But he watched her constantly, and was never entirely comfortable with the choice he had made.

Still, as she had pointed out, he could rectify the situation any time he wanted to if ever he found himself so inclined.

She was careful to do nothing to arouse any suspicion, working in close proximity to him at all times. As well as having her occasional off-world Underspace transmissions carefully monitored, he had them run through extensive ciphernetic programming without her knowledge. Everything always came back clean. She was not trying to secretly send any information to her homeworld. Much of what she transmitted consisted of generalities and greetings to her triadic sisters.

Additionally, he had suspicions other than his own to deal with.

It was inevitable that he eventually introduce her to the other Core members on Chemadii. They were four in number: Lance Corpsman McConnell, a field captain named Inez, and the redoubtable Sergeant Conner, who was participating in active operations and could not be present. Together they constituted the entire representation of the Core on Chemadii.

Seated on the narrow recreational beach that fronted the only shallow part of the cove, they regarded their squat, muscular colleague with almost as much suspicion as the diminutive, gaudy Wais who sat off to one side fiddling with her sophisticated attire.

“I still can’t believe you told her everything.” Though not much bigger than Lalelelang, Captain Magdelena Mariah Inez could have eviscerated the Wais without working up a sweat. As she spoke she gazed unapologetically at the historian. Lalelelang had perfected the technique of half closing her eyes while still appearing to give her full attention to Human acquaintances. This enabled her to better tolerate the daunting, nerve-fraying, homicidal Human stare.

“She was there,” he explained. “She asked questions. Eventually she would have figured out much if not all of it. And as I’ve explained I had reasons for filling her in on the rest. I think her argument is sound.

She can be useful to us.”

“You could have tried to cover it up.

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