The sigil exploded into a shower of golden light, then solidified into venerated Meku himself, kochanau over all Pluthrak. His noble face with its impressive vai camiti gazed into the image tank as though he could see Aille. But this was a recorded message, transmitted through the framepoint via drone during the last solar cycle.
"Offspring," he said, "Narvo has lodged a complaint with the Naukra Krith Ludh—that you refuse appropriate orders and are now conducting independent and unsupported action instead. They are demanding that you be declared kroudh. And now we are given to understand—also by the Naukra—that you had earlier sent a message on your own behalf declaring yourself kroudh."
Meku had adopted a stance of admonishing-caution, modified with a thread of interest. "We have investigated the situation, as best we can from a distance, and feel that, though your stance may be correct, we cannot at present support insult at this level against Narvo. If you wish to persist, we will not contest the registration of your kroudh status, thus freeing you to do what you feel necessary." His eyes took up an odd glint . . . anticipation, perhaps?
"We did not send you to Terra to be cautious," he said, "but neither should you spend yourself unwisely. Some choices, however intriguing, can never be amended. Their final cost may be more than you wish to bear."
Admonishing-caution was now replaced, in that smooth and silky manner that was always Meku's style, with assessment-of-opportunity. "Be aware, also, that the Bond of Ebezon is already moving, without waiting for the Naukra to deliberate. A Harrier task force is on its way to Terra. Quite a large one, we believe. We are not certain, but we suspect the Bond has been seeking for some time to intervene in the Terran situation. If so, the possibilities are vast. Consult closely with your fraghta, of course, but also follow your own sense of things. This flow seems . . . very powerful."
The transmission ended. The tank dissolved into random flashes of golden light that darted like insects before flickering out.
"The choice lies before you, then," Yaut said, his body curiously in flux, now bereaved, now proud, now aggravated, as though the fraghta were too overwhelmed to know what precisely he felt. "The prudent path would be to accede to Oppuk, follow his orders and conduct the remainder of this operation as custom dictates. If you do so, I am almost certain the Naukra would remove your kroudh status. It seems clear enough—the Bond already intervening!—that many are unhappy with Narvo's conduct here."
Aille turned to him, skin once again prickling with anticipation. "I do not think—not really—that is what Meku wants. You heard him yourself: The possibilities are vast. Not only in terms of finally forcing association on Narvo, but, what may be even more important, in terms of the war with the Ekhat. What if we can stop them, using these new tactics? Think of the gain! To be able to save worlds, instead of simply revenging them."
"Duty—caution, at least—dictates that I advise you differently," Yaut said, slowly. "But in the end, you are ava, root kochan, while I am only vau, subsidiary. It is not bred in me to abandon you, if you decide to go on."
"Send a message back," Aille said, "and route it to Oppuk as well. I accept kroudh status. What I do from this point forward no longer reflects on Pluthrak." He gazed at the empty tank. "I act for myself alone."
"And for this world," Yaut said, "though I doubt they will understand the honor you do them this day."
* * *
In that, at least, Yaut proved to be wrong.
Perhaps. It was hard to say. The manner in which Terrans expressed their appreciation of honor was most peculiar to the Jao way of looking at things.
After the signal techs returned, they suggested that Aille might want to see something else. Quickly, the two techs changed the settings for the holo tank to relay the images that were being transmitted on the human communications web. What Terrans called "television."
Aille and Yaut stared at the images. Gigantic masses of humans thronging in many cities—on no planet but Terra could such immense mobs be assembled—and engaging in the most bizarre rituals.
The Binnat tech explained. "President Stockwell sent out instructions and counsel some time ago to all human authorities and communications centers. The human comm web ever since has been spending all its time reporting on the current situation. Shortly thereafter, these assemblies began taking place."
"If you can call something like this an 'assembly,' " snorted the other tech. "I am reminded more of the swarms of fish on my home planet during spawning season."