Star Trek: Typhon Pact: Seize the Fire - By Michael A. Martin Page 0,6
appear to enjoy explaining things. Please, allow me to indulge you.”
She answered with a good-natured snort. “Very well, First Myrmidon. First, do you understand the rarity of worlds capable of supporting large-scale warrior-caste reproduction?”
“I understand the fact, if not the reason.” Such subjects had never been included in Gog’resssh’s training. All he had ever known was the highly structured life of a combat soldier, the uncompromising discipline and relentless chaos of warfare, and the extensive, all but ceaseless preparation that such a martial existence required.
“Then we are equals in this matter, First Myrmidon. Despite the extensive study my caste has lavished on this matter we cannot yet satisfactorily explain why so far only Sazssgrerrn, out of all the worlds in Gorn space, has nurtured the eggs of our warrior caste.”
“That is interesting, I suppose. But it doesn’t answer my question: have you found any worlds as yet that might take Sazssgrerrn’s place?”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. We must conduct experiments first before we can answer that question definitively.”
“What sort of experiments?”
Z’shezhira looked down uncomfortably at the metal grillwork of the deck beneath her bare footclaws. “Perhaps I have said too much.”
“Nonsense. You were merely giving a recuperating patient a measure of hope. Please, tell me of these experiments.”
Z’shezhira’s head bobbed forward and back in a gesture of assent. “All right. Before the machine-mammal crisis diverted us, the S’alath’s crew had discovered a number of ancient technological artifacts. Items that may provide the key to a technological solution to the Sazssgrerrn dilemma.”
“What sort of technological solution?”
“Worldsculpting. Ecoshaping. The wholesale changing of a planetary biosphere. The idea is to find the world that represents the closest analog to Sazssgrerrn, and then apply this technology to it.”
“You sound as though you believe you have tamed the power of the Egg Bringer S’Yahazah herself,” Gog’resssh said with an awed growl.
The scales from Z’shezhira’s snout to the crests between her wide-set golden eyes reddened, as though the praise embarrassed her. “I would not go quite that far, First Myrmidon. But the technology does hold great promise. Hopes are high throughout the technological and political castes.”
The political caste, Gog’resssh thought with distaste as she explained some of the technical particulars at too great a depth for his tastes. Politics. The vice of the bloodless weaklings who saw fit to diversify the crècheworld holdings of every caste save the only one that is indispensable to the Hegemony’s security. S’Yahazah’s cloaca, even the lowly laborer caste has incubation facilities on at least a half-dozen worlds.
The political caste obviously feared the warrior caste. That had been so ever since the warriors of the Black Crest had attempted—and failed—to seize the reins of power within the Hegemony almost eight Gornar suncircuits ago. Those would-be insurrectionists had failed, and now the political caste had finally exacted its patient vengeance by keeping the warrior caste vulnerable to a single calamitous extinction event. Gog’resssh’s mind had hearkened back to the one and only time he’d met the legendary Captain S’alath, this vessel’s namesake. S’alath had told him that while he stood vigil at one of the first Gorn-human territory negotiations that had followed his initial encounter with K’irrk, he had picked up a human aphorism: “Don’t put all your eggs in a single basket.”
The political caste had allowed all the warrior caste’s eggs to remain in one basket. And catastrophe had been the result.
Banishing those thoughts lest he grow visibly angry enough to frighten Z’shezhira out of the infirmary, Gog’resssh tried instead to concentrate on what the female was telling him, in her caste’s typical loquacious fashion. According to her, the warrior caste’s future might not be so bleak as he had feared. Hope sparked within Gog’resssh’s belly; it was his first experience with hope since he’d learned of his abysmal failure at Sazssgrerrn.
“Your captain must take this vessel to your best candidate world now,” Gog’resssh said. “He must apply this new technology there immediately. He must use it to pull my caste back from the brink of oblivion.”
Z’shezhira raised a restraining manus, its three delicate yet sharp claws extended in a gesture of warning. “Much testing remains to be done first. Worlds similar enough to Sazssgrerrn to be good ecoshaping candidates are too rare to risk ruining. We must run a great many simulations before we can deploy the technology safely.”
The spark of hope quickly fanned itself into white-hot impatience. “How long a wait do you foresee?”
She made a noncommittal gesture with both sets of claws. “Adequate testing could require a good many Gornar