Free Asgard's Conquerors by Brian Stableford Page B

our people in the city for some time after the
invasion, but we have not picked up any transmissions for some time. With your
permission, we will summarize briefly what we now know about the
invaders."
    Valdavia inclined his head, gesturing that she should continue. The
colonel simply raised a blonde eyebrow. She was well into her tough-guy
routine. 1125-Camina promptly passed the buck to 994-Tulyar.
    "The invaders came from beneath the city," he said.
"They emerged from at least five different points in levels two and three,
using doorways of whose existence we had been quite ignorant. We infer that the
invaders must have been grouping in levels three and four for some time before
the attack; it is possible that they were there even before Mr. Rousseau first
penetrated to the lower levels, and that the attack was in no way a response to
that penetration.
    "There is one remarkable coincidence, of whose significance we
are uncertain. If you will look at these. . . ."
    He took some flimsies from a bag beneath the table. They were
photographs, presumably taken in the aftermath of the battle for Skychain City
and transmitted before communication was closed down.
    The invaders looked human.
    Of all the starfaring races in the community, about half a dozen are
near enough to human for at least some of their members to pass. Humans are
pretty various, of course, so it only has to be the case that some members of a
near- human race could be mistaken for some humans for us to be able to speak
of there being a coincidence. The invaders in the photographs were all
white-skinned—rather pasty- faced, in fact—and they all had light-coloured
hair. Their features were a little on the Neanderthal side, with heavy
brow-ridges and Eskimo-type noses, but they could have walked the streets of a
dozen Earthly cities without attracting too much notice, and on a multiracial
microworld anyone would have been happy to shake hands with them.
    I realised that my newfound interestingness was not entirely
determined by my experience in the levels.
    "The people who once inhabited levels one, two, and
    three were
humanoid," I pointed out. "We've always known that. There's no reason
to be particularly surprised."
    "Perhaps not," said the Tetron. "It is possible that the
coincidence can now be turned to our advantage. Colonel . Lear could certainly
be mistaken for one of the aliens, and so could you, Star-Captain Rousseau.
This may assist in the gathering of intelligence. It might conceivably be the
case that the invaders would be more ready to make contact with a race which
resembles them so very closely than with the Tetrax, who unhappily do
not."
    It's difficult to import subtle inflections into pan-galactic parole,
but he managed to make the word "unhappily" sound ironically
insincere. What he was implying was that the invaders were barbarians just like
us, and would probably have more in common with us than with civilized and
cultured folk like the Tetrax.
    "Is that why we're here—to make contact?" asked Susarma Lear,
bluntly, in parole that sounded coarse even by human standards.
    1125-Camina intervened, quickly but smoothly. "It is our
considered opinion that your group should attempt to make contact only if the
circumstances seem very favourable. Our own diplomats, aided by members of
several races who resemble the invaders closely, are making overt attempts to
open a dialogue. Mr. Valdavia will be able to assist us, and he has kindly offered
to do so. What we ask of you, if you are willing to help, is that you should
help us to reopen channels of communication with the Tetrax in the city. We
need the information which they have been gathering since our links were cut,
and it appears that we will need them to act as intermediaries in communicating
with the invaders."
    I was trying hard to read between the lines, to judge how
    anxious she
was, and about what. I thought her words overlaid a real sense of urgency, and
I guessed that what was