to happen,” she persuaded. “I accepted long ago what must be done and have continued to accept it even as I searched for better ways, only to find none. I have the will to carry it through with the least loss of lives for our own side . . . which is the only side I can save.” She met the multiple black orbs of the K’Katta Chief Guardian, the golden gaze of the local War Prince, K’sennshin, even the hazel gray eyes of Ki’en-qua.
He looked back at her steadily. Ki’en-qua’s question was not unexpected, given V’Dan culture. “Will you show at least
one
of us what you have foreseen? You cannot expect even me to believe you without some proof that this task is necessary—and I say that even with you already having proved beyond all doubt your powers and your identity to my people.”
“Yes. But not you, Eternity,” Ia told him. “No one would believe you if you said you trusted me because my existence is tied up too much in the Sh’nai faith of your people.” She glanced to her right, where the Solarican Queen sat, watching her. “Nor you, Queen Surshan. Your people have a . . . unique relationship with another interest group in this whole matter that would also compromise your neutrality.”
Surshan flicked her ears back but did not counter Ia’s veiled argument. The fact that the Solaricans had an understanding with the Feyori was not something openly known. Ia knew Surshan appreciated her tact in not mentioning it.
“Who, then?” Myang asked her. “Certainly not me, or
I’d
come under accusations of ‘undue influence.’”
“Your choice to elevate me to the rank of General was more than enough aid, sir. Actually . . . I would prefer to choose one of the Chinsoiy Leaders. Your minds are not at all like a Human’s,” Ia said, turning to look at the quasi female on the other side of the thick, protectively darkened glass. “If I can show you, and you can understand it well enough, then that will have the highest probability of satisfying most everyone else in the Alliance.”
“Enter you cannot my chambers,” the ambassador stated bluntly, “or die will you. This cannot be allowed.”
“Yes, and that is another reason why the rest
must
remain ignorant,” Ia countered calmly. “My abilities have grown strong enough that I don’t
have
to physically touch anyone anymore to show them what lies ahead in the fields of Time. If most of you remain clueless about what will happen next year, then there can be no accusations of undue influence from me and my abilities.
“I will have
no
accusations that I manipulated the leaders of the Alliance,” she added with some heat behind the words. That question would come up in the future, and she wanted it made clear to these same leaders that she would do nothing of the sort. “My task is merely to show you what no one else can yet see, to tell you the things you need to know, and to advise you on the exact steps needed to salvage a victory from the coming mess.
“But I cannot take those steps
for
you. Not without your permission. And I certainly cannot fight this whole war by myself,” she added in a dry aside. “You must act upon what your own common sense and your compassion for your fellow sentients insist that you do.”
“You spake of thrrree warrrs,” Queen Surshan said. “De Salik, annnd one I prrresume thrrree Terrannn hunndred yearrs into de future. What is dis seconnd warrr?”
“Four, if you count the coming war on my homeworld, but that one doesn’t concern the Alliance since it will happen beyond your reach. The one you speak of involves the Greys. They are coming back, and they will invade Terran space. And yes, I have strategies lined up for dealing with them, even in the face of our extremely inferior, inadequate technology. We
will
stop them if we do things in the right time, in the right way; you have my Prophetic Stamp on that,” Ia told them, forestalling any burgeoning sense of panic. “But first, we
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