Thrawn Ascendancy Book 3: Lesser Evil
- Автор: Зан Тимоти
- Год: 2021
- Язык: английский
- Год: Random House
- ISBN: 9781473596580
- Жанр: Боевая фантастика
Электронная книга - «Thrawn Ascendancy Book 3: Lesser Evil». Краткое содержание книги:
“I believe they and the Nikardun are both client species of your employer Jixtus,” Thrawn said. “Having pushed the people here on Sunrise into destroying their civilization, the Agbui tried to do the same to the Chiss Ascendancy. But we were able to see through their intrigues and turn back their influence.”
He gestured in the direction of the recently liberated mines. “But the true genius was the successful attempt to make us believe Sunrise’s nyix mines were the ultimate goal of their destruction. Certainly the metal is valuable, but the true prize was the Magys and her ability to touch the Beyond.”
“The Magys was the prize?” Qilori asked, trying to make sense out of the whole thing. “I’m not following you.”
“It’s not difficult to understand,” Thrawn said. “Those who perpetrated the deception hoped that combining the Magys’s abilities with those of a navigator might expand the navigator’s view of the near future and permit them to thus use the combination in warfare.”
“I see,” Qilori said, his winglets rippling slowly as the tangled plan slowly started to make sense. “Only they didn’t expect the Magys to escape Sunrise’s civil war and travel to Rapacc.”
“Exactly,” Thrawn said, sounding pleased that Qilori was finally up to speed. “Or else they didn’t recognize her value until after the refugee ships were already gone. Once they did, they faced a dilemma. The only military forces close enough for a quick reaction were the Nikardun, so they were the ones sent to hunt down the refugees. But Yiv was only a tool, and his masters didn’t want him to know the true nature of the person they were seeking. Thus when the Nikardun forces found Rapacc, they merely blockaded the system and awaited further orders instead of invading and capturing her.”
“I see,” Qilori said again. There was more complexity woven into Jixtus’s plan than he’d ever realized. “So after Yiv was defeated, Jixtus sent the Kiljis to Rapacc to get her?”
“Yes,” Thrawn said, giving Qilori a small smile. “Only they, like the Nikardun before them, would have failed … because from the time of the Springhawk’s first visit to Sunrise until the time your Kilji warships arrived at Rapacc a few days ago, the Magys has been with me.”
Qilori’s winglets went rigid. “With you?”
“Indeed,” Thrawn said, and there was no mistaking the satisfaction in his voice. “Earlier today the mine workers told the Magys that their enslavers repeatedly conducted large-scale searches of the planet hunting for her.” He waved a hand out across the valley. “The true irony is that the search was not only futile but unnecessary.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Magys isn’t the only one of her people who can touch the Beyond,” Thrawn said. “There are others among them who could rise to her same position and ability if necessary.”
“Amazing,” Qilori said. “So all the Grysks needed to do was look for others with the Magys’s ability instead of hunting for her specifically?”
“The Grysks?” Thrawn turned a puzzled look on him. “The Grysks aren’t the ones behind this scheme, Qilori. It’s being controlled by Generalirius Nakirre and the Kiljis.”
Qilori’s winglets went rigid. “What?”
“Jixtus may think he’s running the operation,” Thrawn said. “He may even be giving the orders. But those orders aren’t ultimately coming from him.”
“That wasn’t what I heard aboard the Anvil,” Qilori objected, forcing his winglets to slow down. “General Crofyp always said that he was acting under Grysk command.”
“Really,” Thrawn said sounding amused. “He said this in your presence, did he? Knowing full well your relationship to Jixtus, and that you would report everything to him?”
Qilori looked over his shoulder at the mining compound, his winglets slowing with the sheer strain of trying to follow this zigzag of revelations. Jixtus had always seemed to be in complete control. Had that been a lie? Had Crofyp actually been telling the truth back at Rapacc?
Worse, had it been a lie that Jixtus himself truly believed?
“Why do you think the crew of Kilji ships are called vassals?” Thrawn continued, his voice now gone quiet. “Why do you think the controls are so simple and so well laid out that Paccian commandos could quickly learn how to fire the ship’s weapons? The Kiljis aren’t concerned about quality or expertise, but only in those whom they can successfully control.”
“They call themselves the enlightened,” Qilori murmured.
“And they say their vassals are likewise,” Thrawn said. “No, Qilori of Uandualon. Jixtus is also of the enlightened. But unlike the Kilji vassals, he doesn’t know it.”
For a moment the only sounds were those of the forest and breeze. Qilori gazed across the valley, watching the darkness creep across the landscape.
Enlightenment. The Kiljis had talked about that a lot during the time he’d been aboard the Anvil. They’d boasted about how superior their path was, and about how one day they would bring that path to everyone in the Chaos.
But surely Jixtus wouldn’t have fallen for their schemes or their enlightenment. Would he?
He frowned as something caught his eye. Halfway down the valley, in the center of a cluster of what looked like dull-roofed prefabricated huts, something was glinting in the last ray of sunlight where it peeked through a gap in the western hills. Three somethings, actually, their faint shimmer reaching upward from the cluster.
A worship hall spire? A stray tendril of silk from some horrifyingly huge local spider?
A three-lobe hyperspace transmitter antenna?
“At any rate, it’s time for me to retire for the night,” Thrawn said, sliding off the outcropping and giving a small stretch. His right hand brushed the belted weapon at his side, as if reassuring himself it was still there as he sent one final gaze around the area. “I suggest you don’t stay out much longer,” he added. “As Uingali warned, there may be predators that roam the darkness. I’ll speak with you again in the morning.”
With a final nod, he walked past Qilori and headed off toward the buildings where the Paccosh had set up their headquarters and their barracks. Qilori watched until he was out of sight, then turned back to the valley. The brief triple glint had vanished, and the twilight was fading rapidly, but it was still light enough for him to see that there was a path leading down from the mining compound in the general direction of the huts.
He stepped to the edge of the trees to try for a better look. If that was in fact a hyperspace transmitter, and if he could get to it, he might be able to send Jixtus a message. Too late tonight, of course, but maybe in the morning. There was a faint crunch of dried leaves from somewhere behind him—
And without warning his arm was caught in a solid, metallic grip. Even as he opened his mouth to shriek a second hand locked itself across his mouth and winglets, stifling the scream into a muffled gasp. A second later he was dragged through a gap in the outer line of trees into the forest.
“Be silent,” a voice muttered in his ear. “Be silent, and live.”
There was no way to verbally agree to the order with his mouth covered, but Qilori managed a microscopic nod of acceptance. In the failing light a second person moved into view in front of him.
Qilori felt himself wilt with relief. He’d feared his assailants were Paccosh or some kind of local militia. Instead, they were a pair of armored Grysks who had somehow escaped the Paccian slaughter. The one holding him must have felt the loosening of his arm muscles as his panic faded and cautiously released his dual grips. “I am Qilori of Uandualon,” Qilori identified himself, keeping his voice low.