But theory was one thing. A group of nervous Elders worried for their survival was something else entirely. And to be fair, as far as Thrr-gilag knew, the theory had never been tested.

"The observers on Study World Eighteen," Chrr't-ogdano said. "Remember the report? They felt the pain of the Human Elderdeath weapons."

"But they were still anchored at their cuttings watching the Humans," Thrr-gilag reminded him. "But you have a point. Very well. Inform Ship Commander Zbb-rundgi that I've reversed my decision and that the pyramid is to be taken back home. And tell him we'll leave as soon as it's aboard."

"I obey," Chrr't-ogdano said, looking more than a little relieved.

He vanished. Alone again, Thrr-gilag stood up, pressing the edge of his tongue hard against the inside of his mouth as he draped the restraint suit across his shoulders. So here they were again: the Zhirrzh at war with yet another new alien race. Aliens who, like all the others who had gone before them, had attacked them on sight. Aliens with powerful explosive missiles and small but vicious fighter warcraft, who used Elderdeath weapons with a free hand. Aliens who owned twenty-four worlds, against eighteen worlds of their own, who held at least eight other alien races under their domination.

Aliens who wielded the terrifying weapon Pheylan Cavanagh had described for him. The awful killing device called CIRCE.

2

Fortunately, he didn't have to wonder in similar darkness. Ship Commander Zbb-rundgi had quietly instructed everyone aboard—unofficially, of course—to ostracize the young upstart searcher who had allowed the Human prisoner to escape and, probably more important, had treated the ship commander's advice with perceived contempt. But neither Nzz-oonaz nor Svv-selic seemed interested in taking the order seriously, and they kept Thrr-gilag up-to-date on the progress of the Zhirrzh expeditionary forces currently in Human space.