CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Brashieel rose carefully and inclined his head as the old nest-killer called Hohrass entered his nest place. It was not the full salute of a Protector, for he did not cover his eyes, but Brashieel knew this Hohrass was a Great Lord of his own . . . people.
It had taken many twelve-days to decide to apply that term to these nest-killers, yet he had little choice. He had come to know them—some of them, at least—and that, he now knew, was the worst thing which could happen to a Protector.
He should have ended in honor. Should have spent himself, made them kill him, before this horror could be inflicted upon him. But they were cruel, these nest-killers, cruel in their kindness, for they had not let him end. For just a moment, he considered attacking Hohrass, but the old nest-killer was far stronger. He would simply overpower him, and it would be shameful to neither kill his foe nor make his foe kill him.
"I greet you, Brashieel." The voice came from a speaker on the wall, rendering Hohrass's words into the tongue of Aku'Ultan.
"I greet you, Hohrass," he returned, and heard the same speaker make meaningless sounds to his—visitor? Gaoler?
"I bring you sad tidings," Hohrass said, speaking slowly to let whatever wonder translated do its work. "Our Protectors have met yours in combat. Five higher twelves of your ships have perished."
Brashieel gaped at him. He had seen the power of their warships, but this—! His shock shamed him, yet he could not hide it, and his eyes were dark with pain. His crest drooped, and his fine, dark muzzle scales stood out against his suddenly pallid skin.
"I am sorry to tell you this," Hohrass continued after a twelfth-segment, "but it is important that we speak of it."
"How?" Brashieel asked finally. "Have your Protectors gathered in such numbers so quickly?"
"No," Hohrass softly. "We used scarcely a double twelve of ships."
"Impossible! You lie to me, Hohrass! Not even a double twelve of your demon ships could do so much!"
"I speak truth," Hohrass returned. "I have records to prove my words, records sent to us over three twelves of your light-years."
Brashieel's legs folded under him, despite every effort to stand, and his eyes were blind with horror. If Hohrass spoke the truth, if a mere double twelve of their ships could destroy a full half of the Great Visit and report it over such distances so quickly, the Nest was doomed. Fire would consume the great Nest Place, devour the Creche of the People. The Aku'Ultan would perish, for they had waked a demon more terrible even than the Great Nest-Killers.
They had awakened Tarhish Himself, and His Furnace would take them all.
"Brashieel. Brashieel!" The quiet voice intruded into his horror, and the old nest-killer touched his shoulder. "Brashieel, I must speak with you. It is important—to my Nest and to your own."
"Why?" Brashieel moaned. "End me now, Hohrass. Show me that mercy."
"No." Hohrass knelt on his two legs to bring their eyes level. "I cannot do that, Brashieel. You must live. We must speak not as nest-killers, but as one Protector to another."
"What is there to speak of?" Brashieel asked dully. "You will do as you must in the service of your Nest, and mine will end."
"No, Brashieel. It need not be that way."
"It must," Brashieel groaned. "It is the Way. You are mightier than we, and the Aku'Ultan will end at last."
"We do not wish to end the Aku'Ultan," Hohrass said, and Brashieel stared at him in stark disbelief.
"That cannot be true," he said flatly.
"Then pretend. Pretend for just a twelfth-segment that we do not wish your ending if our own Nest can live. If we prove we can destroy your greatest Great Visit yet tell your Nest Lord we do not wish to end the Aku'Ultan, will he leave our Nest in peace? Can there not be an end to the nest-killing?"
"I . . . do not think I can pretend that."
"Try, Brashieel. Try hard."
"I—" Brashieel's head spun with the strangeness of the thought.
"I do not know if I can pretend that," he said finally, "and it would not matter if I could. I have tried to think upon the things your Nynnhuursag has said to me, and almost I can understand them. But I am no longer a Protector, Hohrass. I have failed to end, which cannot be, yet it is. I have spoken with nest-killers, and that, too, cannot be. Because these things have been, I no longer know what I am, but I am no longer as others of the Nest. It does not matter what such as I pretend; what matters is what the Lord of the Nest knows, and he knows the Great Fear, the Purpose, and the Way. He will not stop what he is. If he could, he would not be the Nest Lord."
"I am sorry, Brashieel," Hohrass said, and Brashieel believed him. "I am sorry this has happened to you, yet perhaps you are wrong. If other Protectors join you as our prisoners, if you speak together and with us, if you learn that what I tell you is truth—that we do not wish to end the Aku'Ultan—would you be prepared to tell others of the Nest what you have learned?"
"We would never have the chance. We would be ended by the Nest, and rightly ended. We would be nest-killers to our own if we did your will."
"Perhaps," Hohrass said, "and perhaps not." He sighed and rose. "Again, I am sorry—truly sorry—to torment you with such questions, yet I must. I ask you to think painful things, to consider that there may be truths beyond even the Great Fear, and I know these thoughts hurt you. But you must think them, Brashieel of the Aku'Ultan, for if you cannot—if, indeed, the Nest cannot leave us in peace—then we will have no choice. For untold higher twelves of years, your Protectors have ravaged our suns, killed our planets, slain our Nests. This cannot continue. Understand that we share that much of the Great Fear with the Protectors of the Nest of Aku'Ultan. We truly do not wish to end the Aku'Ultan, but there has been enough ending of others. We will not allow it to continue. It may take us great twelves of years, but we will stop it."
Brashieel stared up at him, too sick with horror even to feel hate, and Hohrass's mouth moved in one of his people's incomprehensible expressions.
"We would have you and your people live, Brashieel. Not because we love you, for we have cause to hate you, and many of us do. Yes, and fear you. But we would not have your ending upon our hands, and that is why we hurt you with such thoughts. We must learn whether or not we can allow your Nest to live. Forgive us, if you can, but whether you can forgive or not, we have no choice."
And with that, Hohrass left the nest place, and Brashieel was alone with the agony of his thoughts.