"Timothy Zahn - Conquerors 2 - Conquerors' Heritage" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zahn Timothy)

not."

"Thrr-gilag, you will look at me."

With a sigh Thrr-gilag raised his eyes to the faint shape floating in the air before him. Chrr't-ogdano,
Elder of the Kee'rr clan and chief observer here on Base World 12. And if the look on his mostly
transparent face was any indication, he had even less respect for Thrr-gilag's official standing right
now than Ship Commander Zbb-rundgi did. "Don't play word games with me," the Elder bit out. "By
title you may still be speaker of the mission. The position I refer to is that of the Zhirrzh whose
actions allowed the Human prisoner Pheylan Cavanagh to be rescued by his people."

"The blame for that will fall wherever it may," Thrr-gilag said. "Until that time I don't think a certain
degree of respect is too much to ask."

Chrr't-ogdano's tongue flicked out in scorn. "Authority is something that can be assigned; respect is
something one must earn. If you're too young or too drunk with the taste of power to understand that,
then perhaps you shouldn't have been given the speakership in the first place."

Thrr-gilag pressed his tongue against the top of his mouth, choking off the words that wanted to
come out. "I'm sorry if I've disappointed you," he said instead. "I did the best I could."

Some of the hardness faded from Chrr't-ogdano's face. "What has happened has happened," he said,
his voice heavy with resignation. "Only history now can judge your actions."

Which was not to say, of course, that Chrr't-ogdano hadn't already made up his mind about history's
likely evaluation. Or that Ship Commander Zbb-rundgi and the rest of the mission hadn't, either.

And to be honest, Thrr-gilag couldn't really blame them. True, the scheme he'd improvised to
recapture Pheylan Cavanagh had worked out exactly as he'd anticipated, a point he planned to
emphasize when he presented his case before the Overclan Seating. They'd let the Human into the
alien spacecraft and allowed him to activate it, giving the watching Elders valuable information
about its operation. Then, again as anticipated, a sudden, clear look at one of the Elders had
distracted the Human long enough for Thrr-gilag to slash away his restraints and inject a minuscule
amount of tongue poison into his shoulder. New information, a prisoner recaptured with minimal
trouble, it should have been little more than a sidelight to the day's report.

But none of them had known about the Human fighter warcraft poised overhead to strike. And the
fact remained that if the prisoner had been safely under guard in his cell when the enemy swooped
down a few hunbeats later, the rescue might have been thwarted.

Or maybe the Humans would simply have demolished the encampment, raised every Zhirrzh in the
mission to Eldership, and taken Pheylan Cavanagh back anyway.


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Conquerors' Heritage

Thrr-gilag shivered, the edge of his tongue scratching lightly against the inside of his mouth at the
memory. Those fighter warcraft had been unbelievable. Incredibly fast, incredibly maneuverable,
incredibly destructive. In coloration and performance they'd matched perfectly the warcraft that had