Larry Niven’s Man-Kzin Wars - VI by Donald Kingsbury Mark O. Martin Gregory Benford

Author:Donald Kingsbury, Mark O. Martin, Gregory Benford
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-01-31T16:00:00+00:00

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Chapter 16

(2438 A.D.)

Hwass-Hwasschoaw was a celebrity when he was first delivered to the W’kkai’s singularity boundary by UNSN treaty warship and fetched home by a kzin patrol. For a while he gave long blunt talks on the Battle of Wunderland to whomever of the military cared to listen. When he learned what he most wanted to know, he disappeared as a wandering Truth-Preacher.

Hwass found the W’kkai coterie of the Patriarch’s Eye in the form of an ancient kzin of his father’s acquaintance who was still part of the old network. The Eye was in disarray, saved only by its inbred loyalty and ability to tolerate long delays. It had always needed a steady trickle of funds and talent from Kzin to keep it purposeful. And it had always needed fire-eaters like his father, who should never have left the organization to underlings while he took off on a wild adventure with the dashing Chuut-Riit.

Hwass could barely contain his claws when learning that the Eye was unaware of any hypership sneaking through the blockade. A blind Eye? An outrage! Then doubt possessed him. He had found Trainer-of-Slaves’s navigation notes (without revealing them to Clandeboye) proving that this yellow devil had planned to take his captured UNSN ship to W’kkai! But had he ever arrived?

A little more sniffing was in order. He traveled to pastoral places as Truth-Preacher, his intent to “dig a few watering holes” that might prove useful in a Kdapt reformation. Hustling never hurt. A better class of kzinti stayed away from the cities and, being less crowded, were more open of mind and favors. Preaching brought in the little money he needed and provided ample opportunity for gossip. Two things he learned: (1) for a defeated power, W’kkai was too confident and (2) a new schism was dividing the navy.

The overconfidence could be attributed to the arrogance of the haughty Patriarch’s Voice who wouldn’t know defeat if his severed head was floating in a wine barrel. Overconfidence is contagious and no one was untouched by the taste of the Voice. But what of Admiral Si-Kish? He was quietly building a navy—and it smelled like a navy more powerful than anything W’kkai had ever fielded. But why such a navy unless there was a hypershunt motor to power it? Why such secrecy? Why weren’t the old naval warriors being brought into this new hunting ground? Odd smells for a humbled regime.

The buildup was being hidden from the Eye. Si-Kish shouldn’t even know that the Eye existed.

One thing at a time. After lecturing with great tact to some country squires about the nature of the God of the True Form, and passing a pleasant day hunting with his hosts, he spent time by himself with a cup of fermented milk and the local slavery poop sheets. Truth-Preacher wasn’t interested in buying slaves, and had no need for a personal slave—but he was looking for the spoor of Trainer-of-Slaves.

That yellow devil would have abandoned his trade for a more lucrative life, perhaps hidden behind some self-important title of his own devising—but he would leave traces.

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