Steel eased back from his desk and gazed at the landscape painted around the library's walls. It was a view from the castle towers. Behind the paint, the walls were lined with patterns of mica and quartz and fiber; the echoes gave a vague sense of what you might hear looking out across the stone and emptiness. Combination audiovisuals were rare in the castle, and this one was especially well-done; Steel could feel himself relaxing as he stared at it. He drifted for a moment, letting his imagination roam.
Tines. I like it. If that was the alien's image, then it was the right name for his race. His pitiful advisors — and sometimes even the Flenser Fragment — were still intimidated by the ship from the stars. No question, there was power in that ship beyond anything in the world. But after the first panic, Steel understood that the aliens were not supernaturally gifted. They had simply progressed — in the sense that Woodcarver made so much of — beyond the current state of his world's science. Certainly the alien civilization was a deadly unknown right now. Indeed, it might be capable of burning this world to a cinder. Yet the more Steel saw, the more he realized the intrinsic inferiority of the aliens: What a bizarre abortion they were, a race of intelligent singletons. Every one of them must be raised from nothing, like a wholly newborn pack. Memories could only be passed by voice and writing. Each creature grew and aged and even died as a whole. Despite himself, Steel shivered.
He had come a long way from the first misconceptions, the first fears. For more than a thirty days now he'd been scheming to use the star ship to rule the world. The mantis said that ship was signaling others. That had reduced some of his Servants to incontinence. So. Sooner or later, more ships would arrive. Ruling the world was no longer a practical goal… It was time to aim higher, at goals even the Master had never imagined. Take away their technical advantages and the mantis folk were such finite, fragile beings. They should be easy to conquer. Even they seemed to realize this. Tines, the creature calls us. So it will be. Some day Tines would pace between the stars and rule there.
But in the years till then, life would be very dangerous. Like a newborn pup, all their potential could be destroyed by one small blow. The Movement's survival — the world's survival — would depend upon superior intelligence, imagination, discipline, and treachery. Fortunately, those had always been Steel's great strengths.
Steel dreamed in the candlelight and haze… Intelligence, imagination, discipline, treachery. Done right… could the aliens be persuaded to eliminate all of Steel's enemies… and then bare their throats to him? It was daring, almost beyond reason, but there might be a way. Jefri claimed he could operate the ship's signaler. By himself? Steel doubted it. The alien was thoroughly duped, but not especially competent. Amdiranifani was a different story. He was showing all the genius of his bloodlines. And the principles of loyalty and sacrifice his teachers drilled into him had taken hold, though he was a bit… playful. His obedience didn't have the sharp edge that fear could bring. No matter. As a tool he was useful beyond all others. Amdiranifani understood Jefri, and seemed to understand the alien artifacts even better than the mantis did.
The risk must be taken. He would let the two aboard the ship. They would send his message in place of the automatic distress signal. And what should that first message be? Word for word, it would be the most important, most dangerous thing any pack had ever said.
Three hundred yards away, deep in the experiment wing, a boy and a pack of puppies came across an unexpected piece of good luck: an unlocked door, and a chance to play with Jefri's commset.
The phone was more complex than some. It was intended for hospital and field work, for the remote control of devices as well as for voice talk. By trial and error, the two gradually narrowed the options.
Jefri Olsndot pointed to numbers that had appeared on the side of the device. "I think that means we're matched with some receiver." He glanced nervously at the doorway. Something told him they really shouldn't be here.
"That's the same pattern as on the radio Mr. Steel took," said Amdi. Not even one of his heads was watching the door.
"I bet if we press it here, what we say will come out on his radio. Now he'll know we can help… So what should we do?"
Three of Amdi raced around the room, like dogs that couldn't keep their attention on the conversation. By now, Jefri knew this was the equivalent of a human looking away and humming as he thought. The angle of his gaze was another gesture, in this case a spreading and mischievous smile. "I think we should surprise him. He is always so serious."
"Yeah." Mr. Steel was pretty solemn. But then all the adults were. They reminded him of the older scientists at the High Lab.
