The Course of Empire(111)

"Are you the Governor?"



Tully stood so that he loomed over their captor.



"Not hardly," he said. "Jesus, don't you ever watch the news?"



"The news?" The man snorted. "What for? All them fuzzheads look ali—"



Moving quickly and easily, Tully snatched the gun out of the old human's hands. The human's squawk of protest was driven from his lungs as Yaut brought him down. The fraghta's hands moved to break the man's neck.



"Stop, Yaut!" commanded Aille.



Yaut obeyed, but when he looked back his eyes glittered green in the night.



"He is harmless now."



"He raised his weapon to you!" Yaut was seized by anger which bent his body into sharp angles. "He has no respect!"



"He does not know me," Aille said.



"He knows you are Jao. He should respect that, whatever else!"



"Yes," Aille said, his posture sober-reflection, "and yet . . ."



He studied Tully and Aguilera. Both of them returned his gaze with dark, unfathomable expressions. Then, he looked at Kralik. The general's face, too, had that same expression.



There was something critical involved here, Aille realized. He did not understand what it was, but that it was critical he was quite certain. This was one of those rare moments in which association hung in the balance.



"Release him, Yaut," he commanded. Gesturing at Aguilera: "He was the one injured, not me. Let him decide the proper punishment."



Aguilera stared at him, then at Tully. A moment later, they exhaled deeply. Even with the difficulty of assessing their alien postures, Aille did not mistake the sentiment that infused both of them. What a Jao would call relieved-appreciation. Kralik's reaction was more contained, but clearly the same.



It had been the right decision, then. For the first time, ever, he could feel the bonds of association. No tentative shoots, these, but strong lines.



"Oh, hell," Aguilera said. "Just slap the old coot upside the head and—wait!"



Yaut's hand had already begun to swing when the last word brought it to an abrupt halt. He peered quizzically at Aguilera.



"Uh . . . it's just a figure of speech." Aguilera winced. "If you do it, you'll tear his head off." He looked up at Tully. "Do us the honors, would you?"



"Sure," said Tully, smiling crookedly. He rose easily, took two strides over to the old human, and gave him a little swat with the fingers on the top of his bald head.



To Aille's surprise, the old one's eyes filled instantly with water. "Tears," humans called it, normally a sign of great pain or anguish. Yet Tully's blow would hardly have sufficed to crush an insect.



"I've lived in this house my whole life," the old one said, the words coming in short, gasping sobs, "since Marge and me got married. She died, just two years ago—but she died in our bedroom."



"Yeah, I know, old-timer," replied Tully softly. "And by tomorrow, it'll be nothing but cinders. But it's just a house, when all's said and done. And Marge is safely out of it. You better come with us."



He lifted the oldster to his feet, all but shoving Yaut aside to do it. Then, helped Aguilera to his feet also. The wounded man's face glistened in the dimness, bathed in a thin sheen of water, though the rain had not started again. "Even if it was only a lousy popgun, he needs medical attention."



"Take him back, then." Aille said. "I will remain and observe further. Tell the medician I authorize treatment." He glanced at the oldster, understanding that Tully would not relinquish him now. "Both of them, if the other needs attention also."



"I can't." Tully held up his wrist with the gleaming black locator band. "Not unless Yaut goes too."



Yaut fished in his carrying pouch, then threw him the control box. "Go."



Tully's face changed as he stared down at the smooth black rectangle. "But—"



"Either you comprehend vithrik, or you do not," Yaut said. "I have trained you as well as I can. The rest is up to you."



Tully's pale face looked from Aille to Yaut. "I'll be back as soon as I see to Aguilera and the old fellow," he said, almost as though he didn't believe it himself. "I will."



"You are of my personal service," Aille said. "Whatever your beginnings, among Jao, to be so trusted is counted of great honor." Their eyes met in the darkness, the green of Tully's reflecting the light from above.



A long burst of automatic weapon fire came from the next street over. Kralik turned, obviously trying to pinpoint the source.