Webdancers by Brian Herbert Page B

that way. She was not, however, a Mutati. What was she, then? Wondering if her companions knew of her secret identity, the Emir decided she would bear close watching. That one could be dangerous.
    In a careful tone, he said, “We each have our own terrible burdens to bear, Doge Anton. And we must face reality. Our peoples need to put our wasteful, ancient feud to rest.”
    “Mutatis have never shown us anything but aggression,” Anton said, with a glower.
    “That will change, now that I am in charge. The old ways have not been productive or kind to anyone, so I refuse to continue them. Over the centuries, billions and billions of Mutatis and Humans have died due to our ongoing wars. It makes no sense.”
    “War is the biggest polluter of all,” Noah said, somberly.
    “Ah, yes, the famous galactic ecologist. I have heard many things about you, Mr. Watanabe. My father used to speak of you derisively, but he and I never agreed on much of anything.” The Emir smiled, but it didn’t hold, and tears began to stream down his face.
    In a halting tone, as if hardly able to utter the words, Hari’Adab told of the horrendous error Zad Qato had made in the trajectory calculations on a Demolio shot, and how it had destroyed the beautiful Mutati homeworld of Paradij, killing all of its populace. Billions of lives lost due to one miscalculation. As he spoke he trembled, and tears streamed down his face. “I, I’m sorry,” he said, wiping his face.
    The big Tulyan stepped closer to Hari. “I am Eshaz,” he said. “Do not be alarmed, but I must make skin contact with you. Is the back of your neck all right?”
    “The truthing touch.” Hari looked up at the seated Elders. “But they have already done this to me, to Parais, and all of the other Mutatis with me. They have also done the same with HibAdu prisoners we turned over to them.”
    The Tulyan hesitated, looked to his superiors for guidance.
    “Go ahead,” First Elder Kre’n said to Eshaz. “You are especially gifted in this area. Perhaps you will find something we missed.”
    Eshaz touched the back of Hari’s neck, and the Emir felt the coarseness of the reptilian hand on his skin. It remained there for only a few moments, before Eshaz withdrew and announced, “He is being honest with us. The shapeshifter leader bears us no ill will, and he intends to take the Mutati people in a new direction.”
    “If he can save the remains of his race, of course,” the peculiar woman said.
    Hari nodded, trying to be dispassionate.
    “We were aware of the loss of your homeworld,” Noah said.
    “Oh? How?”
    “I have certain … um, paranormal … abilities that permit me to peer into the universe from time to time. Where Paradij used to be, I saw only a debris field floating in space. I did not, however, know how it happened, or why.”
    “It has been said that we live in a universe of magic,” Hari said. “You are, perhaps, one of the primary examples of that.”
    “And an entire race of shapeshifters is another,” the woman said.
    “And you are?” Hari asked, in his most polite tone.
    “Tesh Kori. I’ve noticed you looking at me strangely. Is there a particular reason for that?”
    “Maybe it is a defect of my personality. If I have offended you, I apologize most sincerely.”
    “It’s not that, not at all.” She exchanged glances with Eshaz, then added, “You have discerned something about me. Please, share with everyone here what it is.”
    “Are you certain you want me to do that?” Hari looked around at the Humans and Tulyans in the great chamber.
    “I have nothing to hide from them. These are my friends. And if Eshaz’s report on you is correct, you might become one of them yourself.”
    “We shall see about that.” He smiled. “For one thing, I see that you are a woman of considerable charm. In my experience, I must tell you that charming people are to be watched more closely than others.”
    “Because they can be manipulative, you mean?”