Man-Kzin Wars - Destiny's Forge by Chafe Paul

Author:Chafe Paul
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: &WORKING
Published: 2011-03-18T23:19:42+00:00

survived a charge it would destroy the stealth on which the mission depended. He listened for the bellow

that would warn him they had been scented, but they had picked their cover well and the wind was in the

other direction. After a moment he relaxed and got out an infuser and an ampoule ofsthondat extract in

preparation for another difficult interrogation. Telepath had become increasingly recalcitrant as the hunt

wore on, fueling Ftzaal’s suspicions and at the same time obscuring the evidence he needed to prove

them.If such evidence exists . He could not yet be sure, today he would learn. He held up the infuser.

Sthondatlymph gives us power over the telepaths. In the face of the ability to know another’s mind, it

seemed a flimsy tool.

Telepath was sleeping, huddled in a miserable pile. He did not take well to the rigors of the jungle. Ftzaal

nudged him awake. “Thekz’zeerkti . Where is it?”

Telepath looked up blearily, involuntary tremors shaking his limbs. His expression grew vacant for a

moment. “It is gone …”

“Gone?” Ftzaal’s ears swiveled up. “Where … ?”

“I … I can’t say… .”

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“You can’t see its mind?”

“No …” Telepath’s eyes slid shut, leaving his answer ambiguous. Ftzaal’s tail twitched. There was

something wrong here. Telepath’s reactions weren’t quite right. He had seen it before. Thesthondat

slaves were strangely reluctant to share information on other telepaths, and some other subjects.Why the

kz’zeerkti? Why now?Telepath had shown no more than disinterest cowed into obedience until his

telepathic trace of the man-monkey had come to the burned-over meadow.What changed there?

Honor forbade him from lying outright, but a telepath had precious little honor to begin with, and no one

knew better than Ftzaal the subtleties of deception and the honor code. He had begun to suspect in the

Black Cult that there was something systematic to their intermittent uncooperativeness. He had

researched it, documented it and proven his point.Rebellion , a subtle and slow one, but one that was

progressing all the same. None had taken him seriously, Priest-Master-Zrtra least of all. He had staked

his reputation on it, and lost.Why would they not believe? Because to believe was to face hard truths

that the Cult did not want to acknowledge. Only the effects of thesthondat drug made telepaths

tractable. If a pure strain line of telepaths arose, a line that had no need of the drug, there would be

nothing to stop them from ruling the Patriarchy. It was the role of the Black Cult to prevent that, though

no one outside the Black Cult knew that secret.No one except the telepaths, perhaps . Ftzaal turned a

palm over.If sthondatconditioning failed even once, what secret could we hope to hide from them?

It was a worrisome question with no good answer. Still, he had his lever of control over this specimen at

least. He held up the infuser, pulled Telepath’s head around so he could see what he craved. “Do you

want this?”

Longing filled Telepath’s eyes, his pupils dilating until the irises had all but disappeared. His paws shook,

and he opened his mouth and then closed it again.

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