Quiet Invasion(37)

D’seun felt satisfaction form deep in his bones. “Ambassador T’sha is coming here herself to inspect the claims of the New People. We must make sure she is given no reason to doubt that this world is free for us to use.” He focused his attention on each of his engineers in turn. “She must have no opportunity to question what we do here.” He pulled his muzzle back and drew in his wings. “I will make no move without your agreement. You are not indentured, and I do not lead without consensus. We will take a poll now. Vote as your soul’s understanding moves you. Let me hear from those in agreement.”

One by one, his engineers whistled their assent. Even Tr’es whistled agreement, low but strong.

“I thank you,” said D’seun softly. “Soon, all your families will have cause to thank you as well. We can move forward with our work now, without doubt or hindrance. Enjoy, my friends. Soon promises will be made in your names and on the backs of your skills.”

More wordless songs of delight and triumph rang out. D’seun swelled to his fullest extent to take in every note and nuance. It was then he realized that his headset had remained silent. Br’sei had not added his vote.

Sudden suspicion flowed into him. “To work, to work, my colleagues, my friends. We do not have time to waste!”

His happy words sent them all scattering to their tasks. Not one of them commented as he flew out into the clear air to claim a kite. He too had work to do, and they were all aware of it.

Right now, his work was to find Engineer Br’sei.

Br’sei glided around the side of the living highland. His bones tightened nervously, barely allowing him the lift he needed to fly, even down here in the thick air near the crust.

You are being ridiculous. He forced himself to relax and gained a little height. You have grown things that are a thousand times more terrifying than these New People.

But nothing stranger.

In truth, he was here only because Ambassador D’seun demurred every single time Br’sei suggested they place close surveillance on the New People. D’seun worried about being seen, about the New People raising a peremptory challenge to their presence if they were seen. The ambassador seemed completely disinterested in the New People’s explorations of the crust. Even now, when their activities had increased so markedly.

If the New People had a legitimate claim on this world, it could be disastrous, but it must be known. Br’sei listened to D’seun’s stirring words through his headset and heard the enthusiastic agreement of his colleagues. Grim silence settled within him. D’seun spoke, D’seun inspired, but D’seun did not know. Br’sei, on the other hand, had to know.

So Br’sei flitted around the highland, weaving in and out of its stony ripples to spy on the New People and see what could be seen.

Below him, Br’sei saw the flat, wing-shaped carriers that the New People used to take themselves from place to place. They had smooth hides and glistening windows and were unbelievably clumsy. However, they seemed to serve their purpose well enough. Grace may have been sacrificed for durability.

No New People walked the surface between the transports. Perhaps they were dormant now. Br’sei dipped a little closer, equal parts of fear and excitement swelling his body.

Then, he saw movement on the ground. Two lumps of what he had first taken for crust moved toward the transports. From their shadow rose what looked like one of the People’s own constructors.

Br’sei backwinged, holding his position and watching. The constructor and its accompanying tools glided between the transports as if sniffing at their sides, seeking what? He spoke to his headset, but it could pick up nothing from them, no exchange, no projection, nothing but silence.

At last, the tools retreated to a deep crevice in the highland wall. Br’sei dived after them, bunching himself up tightly to fit between the stone walls where they hid.

The tools made no move as he came within their perceptual range. Now he could see that the one was indeed a constructor. It had the umbrella, the deeply grooved cortex and the manipulator arms. The other two had only eyes and locomotors. Overseers? Recorders maybe?

“What is your purpose?” asked Br’sei in the most common command language.

No reply. Br’sei repeated the question in four of the other command languages he knew, also with no result.

Frustration tightened Br’sei’s bones. “Who made your purpose? Engineer D’han? Engineer T’oth?” Neither name elicited any reaction. The tools stayed as they were, unmoving, unresponsive. Br’sei’s crest ruffled. A tool should at least respond to its user’s name. “Engineer P’tesk? Engineer—”