Quiet Invasion(36)
When he was finished, not one of them remained their normal size. They all huddled close to their perches and close to each other, small and tight, as if they could draw their skin in far enough to shut his words out.
“I know the dangers of haste,” he said at last. “I was taught, as you all were, that haste is equal to greed as a bringer of death. But this time, to be cautious is to die. This new rot will not wait for us to make our careful plans.”
Soft whistles of agreement filled the room. D’seun let himself swell, just a tiny bit. “There are those who do not understand this, however. There are those among the ambassadors who insist that we wait. For what? I ask. Until our cities all fall? No, they reply. Until we are sure Of the New People.”
Silence. The New People. No one liked the mention of them. The New People might be poison, and everyone here felt that in every pore.
Time to remove that poison. “We are all concerned about the New People. We have watched them as closely as we are able. You have labored with great care to understand their transmissions to each other and their commands to their tools. You have spoken to me in a straightforward fashion, as dedicated engineers should, about the fragility of life and the resources of community and the claim of life upon its own home. But I must ask you other questions now.”
D’seun focused his attention completely on P’tesk. “P’tesk, have we found any new life here? Any life we did not ourselves spread?”
“No, Ambassador,” said P’tesk. “Except for our life base, the winds are clean. The living highlands do not really measure up to that name—none of the ones we’ve observed anyway.”
“T’vosh.” D’seun switched his focus to the youngest engineer. “Have we seen signs of mining or sifting for the hard elements?”
“No, Ambassador,” T’vosh answered quickly. “And among the transmissions, we have heard no plans for such.”
“No plans that we understand.”
The last was spoken by Tr’es. D’seun did not let himself swell in frustration. It was a good point. Besides, Tr’es’s birth city was Ca’aed, as was T’sha’s. She would have to be handled carefully in the time to come.
“None that we understand, yes.” D’seun dipped his muzzle. “Our understanding is far from perfect. Our ability to separate image and message and tool command is not complete, although we have made great strides. The New People may be making plans for legitimate use of this world.” His gaze swept the assembly. “But they have not done it yet. When has a mere plan, an unfulfilled intent, ever been grounds to withhold a resource?” He let them think about that for a minute. “Most importantly”—he spread his wings wide—“nothing has prevented them from detecting the life base. Nothing has prevented them from finding us. They have made no move to challenge our claims or to contact us as one family contacts another when there is a dispute over resources.” Let those words sink through their pores; let their minds turn that over. “There is nothing, nothing, in the laws of life and balance which prevents us from moving forward and laying legitimate claim to this empty, pure world.”
Whistles of agreement, notes of encouragement bathed D’seun. This would work. He had them convinced. “Despite this, for reasons of her own, the ambassador of Ca’aed”—he glanced at Tr’es—“is doing all she can to delay the transformation of this world, and she is citing the presence of the New People as her reason.”
Tr’es was not intimidated, not yet. “How could she do otherwise?” Tr’es asked. “They are here. Ambassador T’sha is both cautious and pious.”
“Ambassador T’sha has acquired the body of Gaith Village for the people of Ca’aed,” replied D’seun. “She has indentured all Gaith’s engineers to the resurrection of the village. She hopes to exact many promises for herself and her city, even while the new rot spreads on the winds.”
Silence, deep and shocked, filled the chamber, broken only by the slight rustling as the engineers inflated and deflated uneasily.
“Surely there is a misunderstanding,” stammered Tr’es. “This cannot be the stated goal.”
“It is not the stated goal,” said D’seun softly. “But. I fear it is the true goal. I grieve with you and your city, Engineer Tr’es, but power has turned many a soul sour. This is why the teachers warn us so stringently against greed. Through greed we turn the very needs of life against each other.”
Tr’es covered her eyes with her wing in confusion and denial. D’seun said nothing, just let the silence settle in ever more deeply. At last, Tr’es lifted her muzzle. “What are we to do?”