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diff --git a/19370-h/19370-h.htm b/19370-h/19370-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0915044 --- /dev/null +++ b/19370-h/19370-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5290 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Ullr Uprising, by H. Beam Piper + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + .tr {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; margin-top: 5%; margin-bottom: 5%; padding: 2em; background-color: #f6f2f2; color: black; border: solid black 1px;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .blockquot{margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 10%;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Ullr Uprising, by Henry Beam Piper + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Ullr Uprising + +Author: Henry Beam Piper + +Release Date: January 2, 2007 [EBook #19370] +[This file was first posted on September 25, 2006] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ULLR UPRISING *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Sankar Viswanathan, and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<div class="tr"><p class="center">Transcriber's Note:</p> +<p>This etext was produced from Space Science Fiction, February and March, 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p></div> + + + + + +<div class="center"><img src="images/image_01.jpg" alt="Cover page" width="500" height="639" /></div> +<p> </p> + +<div class="center"><img src="images/image_02.jpg" alt="Cover page" width="500" height="650" /></div> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/image_03.jpg" width="500" height="576" alt="Frontispiece" /> +</div> +<p> </p> + +<h1>ULLR UPRISING</h1> +<h3>A STORY IN TWO PARTS</h3> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h2>BY H. BEAM PIPER</h2> +<p> </p> + +<h3>ILLUSTRATED BY ORBAN</h3> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/image_04.jpg" width="400" height="466" alt="Illustration" /> +</div> + +<p class="blockquot"> + "The heathen geeks, they wear no breeks," the Terrans<br />sang. + But on a crazy world like Ullr, clothes didn't<br />make the + fighting man. There both red and yellow<br />meant danger—and + blood! +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>I</h2> +<p>The big armor-tender vibrated, gently and not unpleasantly, as the +contragravity field alternated on and off. Sometimes it rocked +slightly, like a boat on the water, and, in the big screen which +served in lieu of a window at the front of the control-cabin, the +dingy-yellow landscape would seem to tilt a little. The air was +faintly yellow, the sky was yellow with a greenish cast, and the +clouds were green-gray.</p> + +<p>No human had ever set foot on the surface, or breathed the air, of +Niflheim. To have done so would have been instant death; the air was a +mixture of free fluorine and fluoride gasses, the soil was metallic +fluorides, damp with acid rains, and the river was pure hydrofluoric +acid. Even the ordinary spacesuit would have been no protection; the +glass and rubber and plastic would have disintegrated in a matter of +minutes. People came to Niflheim, and worked the mines and uranium +refineries and chemical plants, but they did so inside power-driven +and contragravity-lifted armor, and they lived on artificial +satellites two thousand miles off-planet. Niflheim was worse than +airless; much worse.</p> + +<p>The chief engineer sat at his controls, making the minor lateral +adjustments in the vehicle's position which were not possible to the +automatic controls. At his own panel of instruments, a small man with +grizzled black hair around a bald crown, and a grizzled beard, chewed +nervously at the stump of a dead cigar and listened intently. A large, +plump-faced, young man in soiled khaki shirt and shorts, with +extremely hairy legs, was doodling on his notepad and eating candy out +of a bag. And a black-haired girl in a suit of coveralls three sizes +too big for her, and, apparently, not much of anything else, lounged +with one knee hooked over her chair-arm, staring into the screen at +the distant horizon.</p> + +<p>"I can see them," the girl said, lifting a hand in front of her. "At +two o'clock, about one of my hand's-breaths above the horizon. But +only four of them."</p> + +<p>The man with the grizzled beard put his face into the fur around the +eyepiece of the telescopic-'visor and twisted a dial. "You have good +eyes, Miss Quinton," he complimented. "The fifth's inside the handling +machine. One of the Ullrans. Gorkrink."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The largest of the specks that had appeared on the horizon resolved +itself into a handling-machine, a thing like an oversized +contragravity-tank, with a bull-dozer-blade, a stubby derrick-boom +instead of a gun, and jointed, claw-tipped, arms at the sides. The +smaller dots grew into personal armor—egg-shaped things that sprouted +arms and grab-hooks and pushers in all directions. The man with the +grizzled beard began talking rapidly into his hand-phone, then hung it +up. There was a series of bumps, and the armor-tender, weightless on +contragravity, shook as the handling-machine came aboard.</p> + +<p>"You ever see any nuclear bombing, Miss Quinton?" the young man with +the hairy legs asked, offering her his candybag.</p> + +<p>"Only by telecast, back Solside," Paula Quinton replied, helping +herself. "Test-shots at the Federation Navy proving-ground on Mars. I +never even heard of nuclear bombs being used for mining till I came +here, though."</p> + +<p>"It'll be something to see," he promised. "These volcanoes have been +dormant for, oh, maybe as long as a thousand years; there ought to be +a pretty good head of gas down there. The volcanoes we shot three +months ago yielded a fine flow of lava with all sorts of +metals—nickel, beryllium, vanadium, chromium, iridium, as well as +copper and iron."</p> + +<p>"What sort of gas were you speaking about?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Hydrogen. That's what's going to make the fireworks; it combines +explosively with fluorine. The hydrogen-fluorine combination is what +passes for combustion here: the result is hydrofluoric acid, the local +equivalent of water. The subsurface hydrogen is produced when the acid +filters down through the rock, combines with pure metals underneath."</p> + +<p>The door at the rear of the control-cabin opened, and Juan Murillo, +the seismologist, entered, followed by an assistant, who was not +human. He was a biped, vaguely humanoid, but he had four arms and a +face like a lizard's, and, except for some equipment on belt, he was +entirely naked.</p> + +<p>He spoke rapidly to Murillo, in a squeaking jabber. Murillo turned.</p> + +<p>"Yes, if you wish, Gorkrink," he said, in Lingua Terra. Then he turned +back to Gomes as the Ullran sat down in a chair by the door.</p> + +<p>"Well, she's all yours, Lourenço; shoot the works."</p> + +<p>Gomes stabbed the radio-detonator button in front of him.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Out on the rolling skyline, fifty miles away, a lancelike ray of +blue-white light shot up into the gathering dusk—a clump of five +rays, really, from five deep shafts in an irregular pentagon half a +mile across, blended into one by the distance. An instant later, there +was a blinding flash, like sheet-lightning, and a huge ball of +varicolored fire belched upward, leaving a series of smoke-rings to +float more slowly after it. The fireball flattened, then spread to +form the mushroom-head of a column of incandescent gas that mounted to +overtake it, engorging the smoke-rings as it rose, twisting, writhing, +changing shape, turning to dark smoke in one moment and belching flame +and crackling with lightning the next.</p> + +<p>"In about half an hour," the large young man told Paula Quinton, "the +real fireworks should be starting. What's coming up now is just small +debris from the nuclear blast. When the shock-waves get down far +enough to crack things open, the gas'll come up, and then steam and +ash, and then magma."</p> + +<p>"Well, even this was worth staying over for," the girl said, watching +the screen.</p> + +<p>"You going on to Ullr on the <i>City of Canberra</i>?" Lourenço Gomes +asked. "I wish I were; I have to stay over and make another shot, in a +month or so, and I've had about all of Niflheim I can take, now."</p> + +<p>"When are you going to Terra?" the girl asked him.</p> + +<p>"Terra? I don't know; a year, two years. But I'm going to Ullr on the +next ship—the <i>City of Pretoria</i>—if we get the next blast off in +time. They want me to design some improvements on a couple of +power-reactors at Keegark so I'll probably see you when I get there."</p> + +<p>"Here she comes!" the chief engineer called. "Watch the base of the +column!"</p> + +<p>The pillar of fiery smoke and dust, still boiling up from where the +bombs had gone off far underground, was being violently agitated at +the bottom. A series of new flashes broke out, lifting and spreading +the incandescent radioactive gasses, and then a great gush of flame +rose. A column of pure hydrogen must have rushed up into the vacuum +created by the explosion; the next blast of flame, in a lateral sheet, +came at nearly ten thousand feet above the ground. Then geysers of hot +ash and molten rock spouted upward; some of the white-hot debris +landed almost at the acid river, half-way to the armor-tender.</p> + +<p>"We've started a first-class earthquake, too," Murillo said, looking +at the instruments.</p> + +<p>"About six big cracks opening in the rock-structure. You know, when +this quiets down and cools off, we'll have more ore on the surface +than we can handle in ten years, and more than we could have mined by +ordinary means in fifty."</p> + +<p>"Well, that finishes our work," the large young man said, going to a +kit-bag in the corner of the cabin and getting out a bottle. "Get some +of those plastic cups, over there, somebody; this one calls for a +drink."</p> + +<p>The Ullran, in the background, rose quickly and squeaked +apologetically. Murillo nodded. "Yes, of course, Gorkrink. No need for +you to stay here." The Ullran went out, closing the door behind him.</p> + +<p>"That taboo against Ullrans and Terrans watching each other eat and +drink," Paula Quinton commented. "But you were speaking to him in +Lingua Terra; I didn't know any of them understood it."</p> + +<p>"Gorkrink does," Murillo said, uncorking the bottle and pouring into +the plastic cups. "None of them can speak it, of course, because of +the structure of their vocal organs, any more than we can speak their +languages without artificial aids. But I can talk to him in Lingua +Terra without having to put one of those damn gags in my mouth, and he +can pass my instructions on to the others. He's been a big help; I'll +be sorry to lose him."</p> + +<p>"Lose him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, his year's up; he's going back to Ullr on the <i>Canberra</i>. He's +from Keegark; claims to be a prince, or something. But he's a damn +good worker. Very smart; picks things up the first time you tell him. +I'll recommend him unqualifiedly for any kind of work with +contragravity or mechanized equipment."</p> + +<p>They all had drinks, now, except the chief engineer, who wanted a +rain-check on his.</p> + +<p>"Well, here's to us," Murillo said. "The first A-bomb miners in +history...."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>II</h2> + + +<p>Carlos von Schlichten, General of the troops on Ullr, threw his +cigarette away and set his monocle more firmly in his eye, stepping +forward to let Brigadier-General Themistocles M'zangwe and little +Colonel Hideyoshi O'Leary follow him out of the fort. On the little +hundred-foot-square parade ground in front of the keep, his aircar was +parked, and the soldiers were assembled.</p> + +<p>Ten or twelve of them were Terrans—a couple of lieutenants, +sergeants, gunners, technicians, the sergeant-driver and +corporal-gunner of his own car. The other fifty-odd were Ullrans. They +stood erect on stumpy legs and broad, six-toed feet. They had four +arms apiece, one pair from true shoulders and the other connected to a +pseudo-pelvis midway down the torso. Their skins were slate-gray and +rubbery, speckled with pinhead-sized bits of quartz that had been +formed from perspiration, since their body-tissues were silicone +instead of carbon-hydrogen. Their narrow heads were unpleasantly +saurian; they had small, double-lidded red eyes, and slit-like +nostrils, and wide mouths filled with opalescent teeth. Being +cold-blooded, they needed no clothing, beyond their belts and +equipment, and the emblem of the Chartered Ullr Company painted on +their chests and backs. They had no need for modesty, since all were +of the same gender—true, functional hermaphrodites; any individual +among them could bear young, or fertilize the ova of any other +individual.</p> + +<p>Fifteen years before, when he had come to Ullr as a newly commissioned +colonel in the army of the Ullr Company, it had taken him some time to +adjust. But now his mind disregarded them and went on worrying about +the mysterious disappearance of pet animals from Terran homes; there +must be some connection with the subtle change he had noticed in the +attitudes of the natives, but he couldn't guess what. He didn't like +it, though, any more than the beginning of cannibalism among the wild +Jeel tribesmen. Or the visit of Paula Quinton on Ullr as field-agent +for the Extraterrestrials' Rights Association; now was no time to stir +up trouble among the natives, unless his hunch was wrong.</p> + +<p>He shrugged it aside and climbed into the command-car, followed by +M'zangwe and O'Leary. Sergeant Harry Quong and Corporal Hassan +Bogdanoff took their places in the front seat; the car lifted, turned +to nose into the wind, and rose in a slow spiral.</p> + +<p>"Where now, sir?" Quong asked.</p> + +<p>"Back to Konkrook; to the island."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The nose of the car swung east by south; the cold-jet rotors began +humming, and the hot-jets were cut in. The car turned from the fort +and the mountains and shot away over the foothills toward the coastal +plains. Below were forests, yellow-green with new foliage of the +second growing-season of the equatorial year, veined with narrow dirt +roads and spotted with occasional clearings. Farther east, the dirty +gray woodsmoke of Ullr marked the progress of the charcoal-burnings. +That was the only natural fuel on Ullr; there was too much silica on +Ullr and not enough of anything else; what would be coal-seams on +Terra were strata of silicified wood. And, of course, there was no +petroleum. There was less charcoal being burned now than formerly; the +Ullr Company had been bringing in great quantities of synthetic +thermoconcentrate-fuel, and had been setting up nuclear furnaces and +nuclear-electric power-plants, wherever they gained a foothold on the +planet.</p> + +<p>As planets went, Ullr was no bargain, he thought sourly. At times, he +wished he had never followed the lure of rapid promotion and +fanatically high pay and left the Federation regulars for the army of +the Ullr Company. If he hadn't, he'd probably be a colonel, at five +thousand sols a year, but maybe it would be better to be a middle-aged +colonel on a decent planet than a Company army general at twenty-five +thousand on this combination icebox, furnace, wind-tunnel and +stonepile, where the water tasted like soapsuds and left a crackly +film when it dried; where the temperature ranged, from pole to pole, +between two hundred and fifty and minus a hundred and fifty Fahrenheit +and the Beaufort-scale ran up to thirty; where nothing that ran or +swam or grew was fit for a human to eat.</p> + +<p>Ahead, the city of Konkrook sprawled along the delta of the Konk river +and extended itself inland. The river was dry, now. Except in Spring, +when it was a red-brown torrent, it never ran more than a trickle, and +not at all this late in the Northern Summer. The aircar lost altitude, +and the hot-jet stopped firing. They came gliding in over the suburbs +and the yellow-green parks, over the low one-story dwellings and +shops, the lofty temples and palaces, the fantastically-twisted +towers, following a street that became increasingly mean and squalid +as it neared the industrial district along the waterfront.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Von Schlichten, on the right, glanced idly down, puffing slowly on his +cigarette. Then he stiffened, the muscles around his right eye +clamping tighter on the monocle. Leaning forward, he punched Harry +Quong lightly on the man's right shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; I saw it," the Chinese-Australian driver replied. "Terrans +in trouble; bein' mobbed by geeks. Aircar parked right in the bloody +middle of it."</p> + +<p>The car made a twisting, banking loop and came back, more slowly. Von +Schlichten had the handset of the car's radio, and was punching out +the combination of the Company guardhouse on Gongonk Island; he held +down the signal button until he got an answer.</p> + +<p>"Von Schlichten, in car over Konkrook. Riot on Fourth Avenue, just off +Seventy-second Street." No Terran could possibly remember the names of +Konkrook's streets; even native troops recruited from outside found +the numbers easier to learn and remember. "Geeks mobbing a couple of +Terrans. I'm going down, now, to do what I can to help; send troops in +a hurry. Kragan Rifles. And stand by; my driver'll give it to you as +it happens."</p> + +<p>The voice of somebody at the guardhouse, bawling orders, came out of +the receiver as he tossed the phone forward over Harry Quong's +shoulder; Quong caught it and began speaking rapidly and urgently into +it while he steered with the other hand. Von Schlichten took one of +the five-pound spiked riot-maces out of the rack in front of him.</p> + +<p>Bogdanoff rose into the ball-turret and swung the twin 15-mm.'s +around, cutting loose. Quong brought the car in fast, at about +shoulder-height on the mob. Between them, they left a swath of +mangled, killed, wounded, and stunned natives. Then, spinning the car +around, Quong set it down hard on a clump of rioters as close as +possible to the struggling group around the two Terrans. Von +Schlichten threw back the canopy and jumped out of the car, O'Leary +and M'zangwe behind him.</p> + +<p>There was another aircar, a dark maroon civilian job, at the curb; its +native driver was slumped forward over the controls, a short +crossbow-bolt sticking out of his neck. Backed against the closed door +of a house, a Terran with white hair and a small beard was clubbing +futilely with an empty pistol. He was wounded, and blood was streaming +over his face. His companion, a young woman in a long fur coat, was +laying about her with a native bolo-knife.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Von Schlichten's mace had a spiked ball-head, and a four-inch spike in +front of that. He smashed the ball down on the back of one Ullran's +head, and jabbed another in the rump with the spike.</p> + +<p>"<i>Zak! Zak!</i>" he yelled, in pidgin-Ullran. "<i>Jik-jik</i>, you +lizard-faced Creator's blunder!"</p> + +<p>The Ullran whirled, swinging a blade somewhere between a big +butcher-knife and a small machete. His mouth was open, and there was +froth on his lips.</p> + +<p>"<i>Znidd suddabit!</i>" he shrieked.</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten parried the cut on the steel shaft of his mace. +"<i>Suddabit</i> yourself!" he shouted back, ramming the spike-end into the +opal-filled mouth. "And <i>znidd</i> you, too," he added, recovering and +slamming the ball-head down on the narrow saurian skull. The Ullran +went down, spurting a yellow fluid about the consistency of gun-oil.</p> + +<p>Ahead, one of the natives had caught the wounded Terran with both +lower hands, and was raising a dagger with his upper right. The girl +in the fur coat swung wildly, slashing the knife-arm, then chopped +down on the creature's neck.</p> + +<p>Another of them closed with the girl, grabbing her right arm with all +four hands and biting at her; she screamed and kicked her attacker in +the groin, where an Ullran is, if anything, even more vulnerable than +a Terran. The native howled hideously, and von Schlichten, jumping +over a couple of corpses, shoved the muzzle of his pistol into the +creature's open mouth and pulled the trigger, blowing its head apart +like a rotten pumpkin and splashing both himself and the girl with +yellow blood and rancid-looking gray-green brains.</p> + +<p>O'Leary, jumping forward after von Schlichten, stuck his dagger into +the neck of a rioter and left it there, then caught the girl around +the waist with his free arm. M'zangwe dropped his mace and swung the +frail-looking man onto his back. Together, they struggled back to the +command-car, von Schlichten covering the retreat with his pistol. +Another rioter was aiming one of the long-barreled native air-rifles, +holding the ten-inch globe of the air-chamber in both lower hands. Von +Schlichten shot him, and the native literally blew to pieces.</p> + +<p>For an instant, he wondered how the small bursting-charge of a 10-mm. +explosive pistol-bullet could accomplish such havoc, and assumed that +the native had been carrying a bomb in his belt. Then another +explosion tossed fragmentary corpses nearby, and another and another. +Glancing quickly over his shoulder, he saw four combat-cars coming in, +firing with 40-mm. auto-cannon and 15-mm. machine-guns. They swept +between the hovels on one side and the warehouses on the other, +strafing the mob, darted up to a thousand feet, looped, and came +swooping back, and this time there were three long blue-gray +troop-carriers behind them.</p> + +<p>These landed in the hastily-cleared street and began disgorging native +Company soldiers—Kragan mercenaries, he noted with satisfaction. They +carried a modified version of the regular Terran Federation infantry +rifle, stocked and sighted to conform to their physical peculiarities, +with long, thorn-like, triangular bayonets. One platoon ran forward, +dropped to one knee, and began firing rapidly into what was left of +the mob. Four-handed soldiers can deliver a simply astonishing volume +of fire, particularly when armed with auto-rifles having twenty-shot +drop-out magazines which can be changed with the lower hands without +lowering the weapon.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>There was a clatter of shod hoofs, and a company of King Jaikark of +Konkrook's cavalry came trotting up on their six-legged, +lizard-headed, quartz-speckled, mounts. Some of these charged into +side alleys, joyfully lancing and cutting-down fleeing rioters, while +others dismounted, three tossing their reins to a fourth, and went to +work with their crossbows. Von Schlichten, who ordinarily entertained +a dim opinion of the King of Konkrook's soldiery, admitted, +grudgingly, that it was smart work; four hands were a big help in +using a crossbow, too.</p> + +<p>A Terran captain of native infantry came over, saluting.</p> + +<p>"Are you and your people all right, general?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten glanced at the front seat of his car, where Harry +Quong, a pistol in his right hand, was still talking into the +radio-phone, and Hassan Bogdanoff was putting fresh belts into his +guns. Then he saw that they had gotten the wounded man into the car. +The girl, having dropped her bolo, was leaning against the side of the +car.</p> + +<p>"We seem to be, Captain Pedolsky. Very smart work; you must have those +vehicles of yours on hyperspace-drive.... How is he, colonel?"</p> + +<p>"We'd better get him to the hospital, right away," O'Leary replied. "I +think he has a concussion."</p> + +<p>"Harry, call the hospital. Tell them what the score is, and tell them +we're bringing the casualty in to their top landing stage.... Why, +we'll make out very nicely, captain. You'd better stay around with +your Kragans and make sure that these geeks of King Jaikark's don't +let the riot flare up again and get away from them. And don't let them +get the impression that they can maintain order around here without +our help; the Company would like to see that attitude discouraged."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; I understand." Captain Pedolsky opened the pouch on his +belt and took out the false palate and tongue-clicker without which no +Terran could do more than mouth a crude and barely comprehensible +pidgin-Ullran. Stuffing the gadget into his mouth, he turned and began +jabbering orders.</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten helped the girl into the car, placing her on his right. +The wounded civilian was propped up in the left corner of the seat, +and Colonel O'Leary and Brigadier-General M'zangwe took the +jump-seats. The driver put on the contragravity-field, and the car +lifted up.</p> + +<p>"Them, see if there's a flask and a drinking-cup in the door pocket +next you," he said. "I think Miss Quinton could use a drink."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The girl turned. Even in her present disheveled condition, she was +beautiful—a trifle on the petite side, with black hair and black eyes +that quirled up oddly at the outer corners. Her nails were +black-lacquered and spotted with little gold stars, evidently a new +feminine fad from Terra.</p> + +<p>"I certainly could, general.... How did you know my name?"</p> + +<p>"You've been on Ullr for the last three months; ever since the <i>City +of Canberra</i> got in from Niflheim. On Ullr, there aren't enough of us +that everybody doesn't know all about everybody else. You're Dr. Paula +Quinton; you're an extraterrestrial sociographer, and you're a +field-agent for the Extraterrestrials' Rights Association, like +Mohammed Ferriera, here." He took the cup and flask from Themistocles +M'zangwe and poured her a drink. "Take this easy, now; Baldur +honey-rum, a hundred and fifty proof."</p> + +<p>He watched her sip the stuff cautiously, cough over the first +mouthful, and then get the rest of it down.</p> + +<p>"More?" When she shook her head, he stoppered the flask and relieved +her of the cup. "What were you doing in that district, anyhow?" he +wanted to know. "I'd have thought Mohammed Ferriera would have had +more sense than to take you there, or go there, himself, for that +matter," he added quickly.</p> + +<p>"We went to visit a friend of his, a native named Keeluk, who seems to +be a sort of combination clergyman and labor-leader," she replied. +"I'm going to observe labor conditions at the North Pole mines in a +short while, and Mr. Keeluk was going to give me letters of +introduction to friends of his at Skilk. We talked with Mr. Keeluk for +a while, and when we came out, we found that our driver had been +killed and a mob had gathered. Of course, we were carrying pistols; +they're part of this survival-kit you make everybody carry, along with +the emergency-rations and the water desilicator. Mr. Ferriera's wasn't +loaded, but mine was. When they rushed us, I shot a couple of them, +and then picked up that big knife.... I never in my life saw anything +as beautiful as you coming through that mob swinging that warclub!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The aircar swung out over Konkrook Channel and headed toward the +blue-gray Company buildings on Gongonk Island, and the Company +airport.</p> + +<p>"Just what happened, while you and Mr. Ferriera were in Keeluk's +house, Miss Quinton?" O'Leary asked, trying not to sound official. +"Was Keeluk with you all the time? Or did he go out for a while, say +fifteen or twenty minutes before you left?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, he did." Paula Quinton looked surprised. "How did you guess +it? You see, a dog started barking, behind the house, and he excused +himself and...."</p> + +<p>"A dog?" von Schlichten almost shouted. The other officers echoed him.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes...." Paula Quinton's eyes widened. "But there are no dogs on +Ullr, except a few owned by Terrans. And wasn't there something +about ...?"</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten had the radio-phone and was calling the command car at +the scene of the riot. The sergeant-driver answered.</p> + +<p>"Von Schlichten here; my compliments to Captain Pedolsky, and tell him +he's to make immediate and thorough search of the house in front of +which the incident occurred, and adjoining houses. For his +information, that's Keeluk's house. Tell him to look for traces of +Governor-General Harrington's collie, or any of the other terrestrial +animals that have been disappearing—that goat, for instance, or those +rabbits. And I want Keeluk brought in, alive and in condition to be +interrogated."</p> + +<p>"But, what ...?" the girl began, her voice puzzled.</p> + +<p>"That's why you were attacked," he told her. "Keeluk was afraid to let +you get away from there alive to report hearing that dog, so he went +out and had a gang of thugs rounded up to kill you."</p> + +<p>"But he was only gone five minutes."</p> + +<p>"In five minutes, I can put all the troops in Konkrook into action. +Keeluk doesn't have radio or TV—we hope—but he has his forces +concentrated, and he has a pretty good staff."</p> + +<p>"But Mr. Keeluk's a friend of ours. He knows what our Association is +trying to do for his people...."</p> + +<p>"So he shows his appreciation by setting that mob on you. Look, he has +a lot of influence in that section. When you were attacked, why wasn't +he out trying to quiet the mob?"</p> + +<p>"When they jumped you, you tried to get back into the house," M'zangwe +put in. "And you found the door barred against you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but...." The girl looked troubled; M'zangwe had guessed right. +"But what's all the excitement about the dog? What is it, the sacred +totem-animal of the Ullr Company?"</p> + +<p>"It's just a big brown collie named Stalin. But somebody stole it, and +Keeluk was keeping it. We want to know why. We don't like geek +mysteries—not when they lead to murderous attacks on Terrans, at +least."</p> + +<p>It seemed to satisfy her, as the aircar let down on the hospital +landing stage. But it didn't satisfy von Schlichten. He could smell +trouble brewing. Just what could the geeks do with a dog? Nothing, so +far as he could tell—but they didn't go in for such behaviour without +what they considered good reason. Good for them, that is!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>III</h2> + + +<p>Governor-General Sidney Harrington had a ruddy outdoors-man's face and +a ragged gray mustache; in his old tweed coat spotted with pipe ashes, +he might have been any of a dozen-odd country-gentlemen of von +Schlichten's boyhood in the Argentine. His face was composed enough +for the part, too. But beyond him in the governor's office, +Lieutenant-Governor Eric Blount matched von Schlichten's frown, his +sandy-haired and younger face puckered in worry.</p> + +<p>"We picked up a few of Keeluk's goon-gang," von Schlichten was +reporting. "But I doubt if they'll tell us anything we don't already +know. The dog was gone, but we found where it had been kept; at least +one of the rabbits had been there, too. No trace of the goat. Anyhow, +the riot's been put down. The Kragans and some of King Jaikark's +infantry are patrolling the section. Jaikark's troops are busy making +mass arrests. Either more slaves for the King's court favorites or +else our Prime Minister Gurgurk wants to use them for patronage."</p> + +<p>Blount nodded. "Gurgurk's building quite a political organization, +lately. He must be about ready to shove Jaikark off the throne."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Gurgurk wouldn't dare try anything like that," Harrington said. +"He knows we wouldn't let him get away with it."</p> + +<p>"Then why's he subsidizing this Mad Prophet Rakkeed?" Blount wanted to +know. "Rakkeed is preaching a holy war against all Terrans and against +Jaikark. Gurgurk subsidizes Rakkeed, and...."</p> + +<p>"You haven't any proof of that," the governor protested.</p> + +<p>Blount shrugged, his face looking grim. Von Schlichten knew how he +felt. They couldn't prove it, but both knew that Rakkeed had been +getting funds from the hands of Gurgurk. The prophet had been stepping +up his crusade against the Terrans, and Gurgurk wasn't the only one +backing him. The Prime Minister probably figured on using Rakkeed to +stir up an outbreak; then Gurgurk could step in, after Jaikark was +killed, put down the revolt he helped incite, and claim to be the best +friend of the Company. But the question was whether Rakkeed could be +used that way. He was becoming more of a menace than Gurgurk could +ever be. Everywhere they turned, Rakkeed was at the bottom of their +trouble—just in this case, where Keeluk was one of Rakkeed's +followers.</p> + +<p>His power seemed to be growing, too. There were rumors that he had +been entertained at the palace in Keegark, just as he was usually +entertained by the big shipowning nobles here at Konkrook; come to +think of it, the last time here, he'd been guest of the Keegarkan +ambassador. He went all over Ullr, crusading, traveling coolie-class +in disguise on Company ships, according to their best information.</p> + +<p>Blount sighed heavily. "This damned dog business worries me."</p> + +<p>"Worries me, too," Harrington said. "I'm fond of that mutt, and God +only knows what sort of stuff he's been getting to eat."</p> + +<p>"I'm a lot more worried about why Keeluk was hiding him, and why he +was willing to murder the only two Terrans on Konkrook who trust him, +to prevent our finding out he had Stalin," Blount struck in.</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten chain-lit another cigarette and stubbed out the old +one. "Maybe Keeluk turned him over to Rakkeed to kill before a +congregation of his followers—killing us in effigy. Or maybe they +figure we worship Stalin, and getting him would give them power over +us. I wish I knew a little more about Ullran psychology."</p> + +<p>"One thing," Blount said. "It doesn't take any Ullran psychologist to +know about eighty per cent of them hate us poisonously."</p> + +<p>"Oh, rubbish!" Harrington blew the exclamation out around his pipe +stem with a gush of smoke. "A few fanatics hate us, but nine-tenths of +them have benefitted enormously from us."</p> + +<p>"And hate us more deeply with each new benefit," Blount added. "They +resent everything we've done for them."</p> + +<p>"Yes, this spaceport proposition of King Orgzild of Keegark looks like +it, doesn't it?" Harrington retorted. "He hates us so much he's +offered us a spaceport at his city...."</p> + +<p>"At what cost?" Blount asked. "He takes the land from some noble he +executes for treason and gives it to us—together with forced labor. +We furnish everything else. We get a port we don't need, and he gets +all the business it'll bring. In fact, considering that Rakkeed is a +welcome guest there, I wonder if he isn't fomenting trouble here at +Konkrook to make us move our main base to Keegark. He's so sure we'll +accept already that he's started building two new power-reactors to +handle the additional demand from increased business."</p> + +<p>"Where's he getting the plutonium?" von Schlichten asked, +suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"He just bought four tons of it from us, off the <i>City of Pretoria</i>," +Harrington replied.</p> + +<p>"A hell of a lot of plutonium," Blount said. "I wonder if he has any +idea of what else plutonium can be used for?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, God, I hope not!" Harrington exclaimed. "Bosh! What about those +letters Keeluk gave the Quinton girl?"</p> + +<p>"All addressed to rabidly anti-Terran Rakkeed disciples," von +Schlichten replied. "We couldn't find any indication of a cipher, but +the gossip about Keeluk's friends might have had code-meanings. I'll +have to advise her to have nothing to do with any of the people +Keeluk gave her letters to."</p> + +<p>"Think she'll listen to you? These Extraterrestrial Rights Association +people are a lot of blasted fanatics, themselves. They think we're a +gang of bloody-fisted, flint-hearted imperialists."</p> + +<p>"Oh, they're not as bad as all that. Old Mohammed Ferriera's always +been decent enough. And the Association's really done a lot of good in +other places."</p> + +<p>A calculating look came into Harrington's eye. "She was going to +Skilk, eh? And you're going there yourself, to investigate some of +this Rakkeed worry of Eric's. Why not invite her along, and maybe you +can plant a couple of ideas where they'll do the most good. We all +know there are a lot of things at the polar mines that would look bad +to anybody who didn't understand. And with all this trouble being +stirred up now...."</p> + +<p>It was his first admission that there <i>was</i> trouble, but von +Schlichten let it pass. "Her company wouldn't be any heavy cross to +bear," he replied. "I won't guarantee anything, of course...."</p> + +<p>The intercom-speaker on the table whistled, and Harrington flipped a +switch and spoke into the box. "Governor," a voice replied out of it, +"there's a geek procession just landed from a water-barge in front, +coming up the roadway to Company House. A platoon of Jaikark's +Household Guards with a royal litter, Spear of State, gift-litter, +nobles and such."</p> + +<p>"Gurgurk with indemnity for the riot, eh? Let them in, give them an +honor guard of Kragans, but keep their own gun-toters outside. Take them +to Reception Hall until I signal from Audience Hall, then herd them in." +He flipped back the switch and turned back. "We'll have to let them wait +or they'll think we're worried. But you see—everything's going along +normal lines."</p> + +<p>Blount nodded, but his face showed disbelief. And von Schlichten +grumbled unhappily to himself, without knowing why, until they finally +went out to the big Audience Hall to meet the delegation.</p> + +<p>Governor-General Sidney Harrington, on the comfortably-upholstered +bench on the dais of the Audience Hall, didn't look particularly +regal. But then, to a Terran, any of the kings of Ullr would have +looked like a freak birth in a lizard-house at a zoo; it was hard to +guess what impression Harrington would make on the Ullran psychology.</p> + +<p>He took the false palate and tongue-clicker, officially designated as +an "enunciator, Ullran" and, colloquially, as a geek-speaker, out of +his coat pocket and shoved it into his mouth. Von Schlichten and +Blount put in theirs, and Harrington pressed the floor-button with his +toe. After a brief interval, the wide doors at the other end of the +hall slid open, and the Konkrookan notables, attended by a dozen +Company native-officers and a guard of Kragan Rifles, entered. The +honor-guard advanced in two columns; between them marched an unclad +and heavily armed native carrying an ornate spear with a three-foot +blade upright in front of him with all four hands. It was the +Konkrookan Spear of State; it represented the proxy-presence of King +Jaikark. Behind it stalked Gurgurk, the Konkrookan equivalent of Prime +Minister or Grand Vizier; he wore a gold helmet and a thing like a +string-vest made of gold wire, and carried a long sword with a +two-hand grip, a pair of Terran automatics built for a hand with +six-four-knuckled fingers, and a pair of matched daggers. He was +considerably past the Ullran prime of life—seventy or eighty, to +judge from the worn appearance of his opal teeth, the color of his +skin, and the predominantly reddish tint of his quartz-speckles. The +retinue of nobles behind Gurgurk ran through the whole spectrum, from +a princeling who was almost oyster-gray to the Keegarkan Ambassador, +who was even blacker and more red-speckled than Gurgurk.</p> + +<p>Four slaves brought up in the rear, carrying an ornately inlaid box on +poles. When the spear-bearer reached the exact middle of the hall, he +halted and grounded his regalia-weapon with a thump. Gurgurk came up +and halted a couple of paces behind and to the left of the spear, and +most of the other nobles drew up in two curved lines some ten paces to +the rear; the ambassador and another noble came up and planted +themselves beside Gurgurk.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The Governor-General rose slowly and descended from the dais, +advancing to within ten paces of the Spear, von Schlichten and Blount +accompanying him.</p> + +<p>"Welcome, Gurgurk," Harrington gibbered through his false palate. "The +Company is honored by this visit."</p> + +<p>"I come in the name of my royal master, His Sublime and Ineffable +Majesty, Jaikark the Seventeenth, King of Konkrook and of all the +lands of the Konk Isthmus," Gurgurk squeaked and clicked. "I have the +honor to bring with me the Lord Ambassador of King Orgzild of Keegark +to the court of my royal master."</p> + +<p>"And I," the ambassador said, after being suitably welcomed, "am +honored to be accompanied by Prince Gorkrink, special envoy from my +master, His Royal and Imperial Majesty King Orgzild, who is in your +city to receive the shipment of power-metal my royal master has been +honored to be permitted to purchase from the Company."</p> + +<p>More protocol about welcoming Gorkrink. Then Gurgurk cleared his +throat with a series of barking sounds.</p> + +<p>"My royal master, His Sublime and Ineffable Majesty, is prostrated +with grief," he stated solemnly. "Were his sorrow not so overwhelming, +he would have come in His Own Sacred Person to express the pain and +shame which he feels that people of the Company should be set upon and +endangered in the streets of the royal city."</p> + +<p>"The soldiers of His Sublime and Ineffable Majesty came most promptly +to the aid of the troops of the Company, did they not, General von +Schlichten?" Harrington asked, solemn-faced.</p> + +<p>"Within minutes, Your Excellency," von Schlichten replied gravely. +"Their promptness, valor and efficiency were most exemplary."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Gurgurk spoke at length, expressing himself as delighted, on behalf of +his royal master, at hearing such high praise from so distinguished a +soldier. Eric Blount contributed a short speech, beseeching the gods +that the deep and beautiful friendship existing between the Chartered +Ullr Company and His Sublime etcetera would continue unimpaired. The +Keegarkan Ambassador spoke his piece, expressing on behalf of King +Orgzild the deepest regret that the people of the Company should be so +molested, and managing to hint that things like that simply didn't +happen at Keegark.</p> + +<p>The Prince Gorkrink then spoke briefly, in sympathy. Von Schlichten +noticed that a few of his more recent quartz-specks were slightly +greenish in tinge, a sure sign that he had, not long ago, been exposed +to the fluorine-tainted air which men and geeks alike breathed on +Niflheim. When a geek prince hired out as a laborer for a year on +Niflheim, he did so for only one purpose—to learn Terran +technologies.</p> + +<p>Gurgurk then announced that so enormous a crime against the friends of +His Sublime etcetera had not been allowed to go unpunished, signalling +behind him with one of his lower hands for the box to be brought +forward. The slaves carried it to the front, set it down, and opened +it, taking from it a rug which they spread on the floor. On this, from +the box, they placed twenty-four newly severed opal-grinning heads, in +four neat rows. They had all been freshly scrubbed and polished, but +they still smelled like crushed cockroaches.</p> + +<p>The three Terrans looked at them gravely. A double-dozen heads was +standard payment for an attack in which no Terran had been killed. +Ostensibly, they were the heads of the ringleaders; in practice, they +were usually lopped from the first two-dozen prisoners or overage +slaves at hand, without regard for whether the victims had ever heard +of the crime they were expiating.</p> + +<p>There was another long speech from Gurgurk, with the nobles behind him +murmuring antiphonal agreement—standard procedure, for which there +was a standard pun, geek chorus—and a speech of response from Sid +Harrington. Standing stiffly through the whole rigamarole, von +Schlichten waited for it to end, as, finally, it did.</p> + +<p>They walked back from the door, whence they had escorted the +delegation, and stood looking down at the saurian heads on the rug. +Harrington raised his voice and called to a Kragan sergeant whose +chevrons were painted on all four arms.</p> + +<p>"Take this carrion out and stuff it in the incinerator," he ordered.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Wait a minute," von Schlichten told the sergeant. Then he disgorged +and pouched his geek-speaker. "See that head, there?" he asked, +rolling it over with his toe. "I killed that geek, myself, with my +pistol. And Hid O'Leary stuck a knife in that one." He walked around +the rug, turning heads over with his foot. "This was a cut-rate +head-payment; they just slashed off two-dozen heads at the scene of +the riot. Six months ago, Gurgurk wouldn't have tried to pull anything +like this. Now he's laughing up his non-existent sleeve at us."</p> + +<p>"That's what I've been preaching, all along," Eric Blount took up +after him. "These geeks need having the fear of Terra thrown into +them."</p> + +<p>"Oh, nonsense, Eric; you're just as bad as Carlos, here!" Harrington +tut-tuted. "Next, you'll be saying that we ought to depose Jaikark +and take control ourselves."</p> + +<p>"Well, what's wrong with that, for an idea?" von Schlichten demanded.</p> + +<p>"My God!" Harrington exploded. "Don't let me hear that kind of talk +again! We're not <i>conquistadores</i>: we're employees of a business +concern, here to make money honestly, by exchanging goods and services +with these people...."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>He turned and walked away, out of the Audience Hall, leaving von +Schlichten and Blount to watch the removal of the geek-heads.</p> + +<p>"You know, I went a little too far," von Schlichten confessed. "Or too +fast, rather."</p> + +<p>"We can't go too slowly, though," Blount replied.</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten nodded seriously. "Did you notice the green specks in +the hide of that Prince Gorkrink?" he asked. "He's just come back from +Niflheim. Probably on the <i>Canberra</i>, three months ago."</p> + +<p>"And he's here to get that plutonium, and ship it to Keegark on the +<i>Oom Paul Kruger</i>," Blount considered. "I wonder just what he learned, +on Niflheim."</p> + +<p>"I wonder just what's going on at Keegark," von Schlichten said. +"Orgzild's pulled down a regular First-Century-model iron curtain. You +know, four of our best native Intelligence operatives have been +murdered in Keegark in the last three months, and six more have just +vanished there."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm going there in a few days, myself, to talk to Orgzild about +this spaceport deal," Blount said. "I'll have a talk with Hendrik +Lemoyne and Colonel MacKinnon. And I'll see what I can find out for +myself."</p> + +<p>"Well, let's go have a drink," von Schlichten suggested.</p> + +<p>But he kept remembering the falsehood of Gurgurk's indemnity. When the +Ullrans started making a mockery of such things, it was no time for +Harrington's trusting policies. The smell of trouble was suddenly +stronger in his nostrils.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>IV</h2> + + +<p>Von Schlichten and Blount entered the bar together. Going to a +bartending machine, von Schlichten dialed the cocktail they had +decided upon and inserted his key to charge the drinks to his account, +filling a four-portion jug.</p> + +<p>As they turned away, they almost collided with Hideyoshi O'Leary and +Paula Quinton. The girl wore a long-sleeved gown to conceal a bandage +on her right wrist, and her face was rather heavily powdered in spots; +otherwise she looked none the worse for recent experiences. Von +Schlichten invited her and her escort to join him and Blount. Colonel +O'Leary was carrying a cocktail jug and a couple of glasses; finding a +table out of the worst of the noise, they all sat down together.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you think it's a joke, our being nearly murdered by the +people we came to help," Paula began, a trifle defensively.</p> + +<p>"Not a very funny joke," von Schlichten told her. "It's been played on +us till it's lost its humor."</p> + +<p>"Yes, geek ingratitude's an old story to all of us," Blount agreed. +"You stay on this planet very long and you'll see what I mean."</p> + +<p>"You call them that, too?" she asked, as though disappointed in him. +"Maybe if you stopped calling them geeks, they wouldn't resent you the +way they do. You know, that's a nasty name; in the First Century +Pre-Atomic, it designated a degraded person who performed some sort of +revolting public exhibition...."</p> + +<p>"As far as that goes, you know what the geek name for a Terran is?" +Blount asked. "<i>Suddabit</i>."</p> + +<p>She looked puzzled for a moment, then slipped in her enunciator. Even +in the absence of any native, she used her handkerchief to mask the +act.</p> + +<p>"Suddabit," she said, distinctly. "Sud-da-a-<i>bit</i>." Taking out the +geek-speaker, she put it away. "Why, that's exactly how they'd +pronounce it!"</p> + +<p>"And don't tell me you haven't heard it before," O'Leary said. "The +geeks were screaming it at you, over on Seventy-second Street, this +afternoon. <i>Znidd suddabit</i>; kill the Terrans. That's Rakkeed the +Prophet's whole gospel."</p> + +<p>"So you see," Eric Blount rammed home the moral, "this is just another +case of nobody with any right to call anybody else's kettle black.... +Cigarette?"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Thank you." She leaned toward the lighter-flame O'Leary had snapped +into being. "I suspect that of being a principle you'd like me to bear +in mind at the Polar mines, when I see, let's say, some laborer being +beaten by a couple of overseers with three foot lengths of +three-quarter-inch steel cable."</p> + +<p>"If you think the natives who work at the mines feel themselves +ill-treated, you might propose closing them down entirely and see what +the native reaction would be," von Schlichten told her. +"Independently-hired free workers can make themselves rich, by native +standards, in a couple of seasons; many of the serfs pick up enough +money from us in incentive-pay to buy their freedom after one season."</p> + +<p>"Well, if the Company's doing so much good on this planet, how is it +that this native, Rakkeed, the one you call the Mad Prophet, is able +to find such a following?" Paula demanded. "There must be something +wrong somewhere."</p> + +<p>"That's a fair question," Blount replied, inverting a cocktail jug +over his glass to extract the last few drops. "When we came to Ullr, +we found a culture roughly like that of Europe during the Seventh +Century Pre-Atomic. We initiated a technological and economic +revolution here, and such revolutions have their casualties, too. A +number of classes and groups got squeezed pretty badly, like the +horse-breeders and harness-manufacturers on Terra by the invention of +the automobile, or the coal and hydroelectric interests when direct +conversion of nuclear energy to electric current was developed, or the +railroads and steamship lines at the time of the discovery of the +contragravity-field. Naturally, there's a lot of ill-feeling on the +part of merchants and artisans who weren't able or willing to adapt +themselves to changing conditions; they're all backing Rakkeed and +yelling '<i>Znidd suddabit!</i>' now. But it is a fact, which not even +Rakkeed can successfully deny, that we've raised the general living +standard of this planet by about two hundred per cent."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Both jugs were empty. Colonel O'Leary, as befitted his junior rank, +picked them up; after a good-natured wrangled with von Schlichten, +Blount handed the colonel his credit-key.</p> + +<p>"The merchants in the North don't like us; beside spoiling the +caravan-trade, we're spoiling their local business, because the +landowning barons, who used to deal with them, are now dealing +directly with us. At Skilk, King Firkked's afraid his feudal nobility +is going to force a Runnymede on him, so he's been currying favor with +the urban merchants; that makes him as pro-Rakkeed and as anti-Terran +as they are. At Krink, King Jonkvank has the support of his barons, +but he's afraid of his urban bourgeoisie, and we pay him a handsome +subsidy, so he's pro-Terran and anti-Rakkeed. At Skilk, Rakkeed comes +and goes openly; at Krink he has a price on his head."</p> + +<p>"Jonkvank is not one of the assets we boast about too loudly," +Hideyoshi O'Leary said, pausing on his way from the table. "He's as +bloody-minded an old murderer as you'd care not to meet in a dark +alley."</p> + +<p>"We can turn our backs on him and not expect a knife between our +shoulders, anyhow," von Schlichten said. "And we can believe, oh, up +to eighty per cent of what he tells us, and that's sixty per cent +better than any of the other native princes, except King Kankad, of +course. The Kragans are the only real friends we have on this planet." +He thought for a moment. "Miss Quinton, are you doing sociographic +research-work here, in addition to your Ex-Rights work?" he asked. +"Well, let me advise you to pay some attention to the Kragans."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but they're just a parasite-race on the Terrans," Dr. Paula +Quinton objected. "You find races like that all through the explored +Galaxy—pathetic cultural mongrels."</p> + +<p>Both men laughed heartily. Colonel O'Leary, returning with the jugs, +wanted to know what he'd missed. Blount told him.</p> + +<p>"Ha! She's been reading that thing of Stanley-Browne's," he said.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with Stanley-Browne?" Paula demanded.</p> + +<p>"Stanley-Browne is one author you can depend on," O'Leary assured her. +"If you read it in Stanley-Browne, it's wrong. You know, I don't think +she's run into many Kragans. We ought to take her over and introduce +her to King Kankad."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Von Schlichten allowed himself to be smitten by an idea. "By Allah, so +we had!" he exclaimed. "Look, you're going to Skilk, in the next week, +aren't you? Well, do you think you could get all your end-jobs cleared +up here and be ready to leave by 0800 Tuesday? That's four days from +today."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I could. Why?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm going to Skilk, myself, with the armed troopship +<i>Aldebaran</i>. We're stopping at King Kankad's Town to pick up a +battalion of Kragan Rifles for duty at the Polar mines, where you're +going. Suppose we leave here in my command-car, go to Kankad's Town, +and wait there till the <i>Aldebaran</i> gets in. That would give us about +two to three hours. If you think the Kragans are 'pathetic cultural +mongrels', what you'll see there will open your eyes. And I might add +that the nearest Stanley-Browne ever came to seeing Kankad's Town was +from the air, once, at a distance of more than four miles."</p> + +<p>"Well, general, I'll take you up," she said. "But I warn you; if this +is some scheme to indoctrinate me with the Ullr Company's side of the +case and blind me to unjust exploitation of the natives here, I don't +propagandize very easily."</p> + +<p>"Fair enough, as long as you don't let fear of being propagandized +blind you to the good we're doing here, or impair your ability to +observe and draw accurate conclusions. Just stay scientific about it +and I'll be satisfied. Now, let's take time out for lubrication," he +said, filling her glass and passing the jug.</p> + +<p>Two hours and five cocktails later, they were still at the table, and +they had taught Paula Quinton some twenty verses of <i>The Heathen +Geeks, They Wear No Breeks</i>, including the four printable ones.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Four days later they stood together as the aircar passed over the +Kraggork Swamps—pleasantly close together, von Schlichten realized. +For the moment, he could almost forget the queer, intangible tension +that had been growing steadily, and the feeling that things were +nearing a breaking point of some kind.</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten was scanning the horizon ahead. He pulled over a pair +of fifty-power binoculars on a swinging arm and put them where she +could use them.</p> + +<p>"Right ahead, there; just a little to the left. See that brown-gray +spot on the landward edge of the swamp? That's King Kankad's Town. +It's been there for thousands of years, and it's always been Kankad's +Town. You might say, even the same Kankad. The Kragan kings have +always provided their own heirs, by self-fertilization. The offspring +is an exact duplicate of the single parent. The present Kankad speaks +of his heir as 'Little Me,' which is a fairly accurate way of putting +it."</p> + +<p>He knew what she was seeing through the glasses—a massive butte of +flint, jutting out into the swamp on the end of a sharp ridge, with a +city on top of it. All the buildings were multi-storied, some piling +upward from the top and some clinging to the sides. The high +watchtower at the front now carried a telecast-director, aimed at an +automatic relay-station on an unmanned orbiter two thousand miles +off-planet.</p> + +<p>"They're either swamp-people who moved up onto that rock, or they're +mountaineers who came out that far along the ridges and stopped," she +said. "Which?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody's ever tried to find out. Maybe if you stay on Ullr long +enough, you can. That ought to be good for about eight to ten honorary +doctorates. And maybe a hundred sols a year in book royalties."</p> + +<p>"Maybe I'll just do that, general.... What's that, on the little +island over there?" she asked, shifting the glasses. "A clump of +flat-roofed buildings. Under a red-and-yellow danger-flag."</p> + +<p>"That's Dynamite Island; the Kragans have an explosives-plant there. +They make nitroglycerine, like all the thalassic peoples; they also +make TNT and propellants. Learned that from us, of course. They also +manufacture most of their own firearms, some of them pretty +extreme—up to 25-mm. for shoulder rifles. Don't ever fire one; it'd +break every bone in your body."</p> + +<p>"Are they that much stronger than us?"</p> + +<p>He shook his head. "Just denser; heavier. They're about equal to us in +weight-lifting. They can't run, or jump, as well as we can. We often +come out here for games with the Kragans, where the geeks can't watch +us. And that reminds me—you're right about that being a term of +derogation, because I don't believe I've ever knowingly spoken of a +Kragan as a geek, and in fact they've picked up the word from us and +apply it to all non-Kragans. But as I was saying, our baseball team +has to give theirs a handicap, but their football team can beat the +daylights out of ours. In a tug-of-war, we have to put two men on our +end for every one of theirs. But they don't even try to play tennis +with us."</p> + +<p>"Don't the other natives make their own firearms?"</p> + +<p>"No, and we're not going to teach them how!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The aircar came in, circling slowly over the town on the big rock, and +let down on the roof of the castle-like building from which the +watchtower rose. There were a dozen or so individuals waiting for +them—the five Terrans, three men and two women, from the telecast +station, and the rest Kragans. One of these, dark-skinned but with +speckles no darker than light amber, armed only with a heavy dagger, +came over and clapped von Schlichten on the shoulder, grinning +opalescently.</p> + +<p>"Greetings, Von!" he squawked in Kragan, then, seeing Paula, switched +over to the customary language of the Takkad Sea country. "It makes +happiness to see you. How long will you stay with us?"</p> + +<p>"Till the <i>Aldebaran</i> gets in from Konkrook, to pick up the Rifles," +von Schlichten replied, in Lingua Terra. He looked at his watch. "Two +hours and a half.... Kankad, this is Paula Quinton; Paula, King +Kankad."</p> + +<p>He took out his geek-speaker and crammed it into his mouth. Before any +other race on Ullr, that would have been the most shocking sort of bad +manners, without the token-concealment of the handkerchief. Kankad +took it as a matter of course. At some length, von Schlichten +explained the nature of Paula's sociographic work, her connection with +the Extraterrestrials' Rights Association, and her intention of going +to the Arctic mines. Kankad nodded.</p> + +<p>"You were right," he said. "I wouldn't have understood all that in +your language. If I had read it, maybe, but not if I heard it." He put +his upper right hand on Paula's shoulder and uttered a clicking +approximation of her name. He turned and introduced another Kragan, +about his own age, who wore the equipment and insignia of a Company +native-major and was freshly painted with the Company emblem. "This is +Kormork. He and I have borne young to each other. Kormork, you watch +over Paula Quinton." He managed, on the second try, to make it more or +less recognizable. "Bring her back safe. Or else find yourself a good +place to hide."</p> + +<p>Kankad introduced the rest of his people, and von Schlichten +introduced the Terrans from the telecast-station. Then Kankad looked +at the watch he was wearing on his lower left wrist.</p> + +<p>"We will have plenty of time, before the ship comes, to show Paula the +town," he suggested. "Von, you know better than I do what she would +like to see."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>He led the way past a pair of long 90-mm. guns to a stone stairway. +Von Schlichten explained, as they went down, that the guns of King +Kankad's town were the only artillery above 75-mm. on Ullr in +non-Terran hands. They climbed into an open machine-gun carrier and +strapped themselves to their seats, and for two hours King Kankad +showed her the sights of the town. They visited the school, where +young Kragans were being taught to read Lingua Terra and studied from +textbooks printed in Johannesburg and Sydney and Buenos Aires. Kankad +showed her the repair-shops, where two-score descendants of Kragan +river-chieftains were working on contragravity equipment, under the +supervision of a Scottish-Afrikaner and his Malay-Portuguese wife; +the small-arms factory, where very respectable copies of Terran rifles +and pistols and auto-weapons were being turned out; the machine-shop; +the physics and chemistry labs; the hospital; the ammunition-loading +plant; the battery of 155-mm. Long Toms, built in Kankad's own shops, +which covered the road up the sloping rock-spine behind the city; the +printing-shop and book-bindery; the observatory, with a big telescope +and an ingenious orrery of the Beta Hydrae system; the nuclear-power +plant, part of the original price for giving up brigandage.</p> + +<p>Half an hour before the ship from Konkrook was due, they had arrived +at the airport, where a gang of Kragans were clearing a berth for the +<i>Aldebaran</i>. From somewhere, Kankad produced two cold bottles of Cape +Town beer for Paula and von Schlichten, and a bowl of some boiling-hot +black liquid for himself. Von Schlichten and Paula lit cigarettes; +between sips of his bubbling hell brew, Kankad gnawed on the stalk of +some swamp-plant. Paula seemed as much surprised at Kankad's disregard +for the eating taboo as she had been at von Schlichten's open flouting +of the convention of concealment when he had put in his geek-speaker.</p> + +<p>"This is the only place on Ullr where this happens," von Schlichten +told her. "Here, or in the field when Terran and Kragan soldiers are +together. There aren't any taboos between us and the Kragans."</p> + +<p>"No," Kankad said. "We cannot eat each others' food, and because our +bodies are different, we cannot be the fathers of each others' young. +But we have been battle-comrades, and work-sharers, and we have +learned from each other, my people more from yours than yours from +mine. Before you came, my people were like children, shooting arrows +at little animals on the beach, and climbing among the rocks at +dare-me-and-I-do, and playing war with toy weapons. But we are growing +up, and it will not be long before we will stand beside you, as the +grown son stands beside his parent, and when that day comes, you will +not be ashamed of us."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was easy to forget that Kankad had four arms and a rubbery, +quartz-speckled skin, and a face like a lizard's.</p> + +<p>"I want Little Me, when he's old enough to travel, to visit your +world," Kankad said. "And some of the other young ones. And when +Little Me is old enough to take over the rule of our people, I would +like to go to Terra, myself."</p> + +<p>"You're going," von Schlichten assured him. "Some day, when I return, +I'll see that you make the trip with me."</p> + +<p>"Wonderful, Von!" Kankad was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, +it was in Kragan, and quickly. "If we live so long, old friend. There +is trouble coming, though even my spies cannot find what that trouble +is. And two days ago in Keegark, two of my people died trying to learn +it. I ask you—be careful!"</p> + +<p>Then he switched hastily back to the language Paula could understand, +apologizing. It gave von Schlichten time to wipe the worry from his +face before she turned back to him, though it was worse news than he +had expected. If Kankad thought things were bad enough to add his own +spies to those of the Company, things couldn't be much worse. In fact, +anything that brought whatever it was out into the open would be +better.</p> + +<p>He was still fretting over it as they said their good-byes to Kankad +and boarded the <i>Aldebaran</i> for Skilk.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>V</h2> + + +<p>The last clatter of silverware and dishes ceased as the native +servants finished clearing the table. There was a remaining clatter of +cups and saucers; liqueur-glasses tinkled, and an occasional +cigarette-lighter clicked. At the head table, the voices seemed +louder.</p> + +<p>"... don't like it a millisol's worth," Brigadier-General Barney +Mordkovitz, the Skilk military CO, was saying to the lady on his +right. "They're too confounded meek. Nowadays, nobody yells '<i>Znidd +suddabit!</i>' at you. They just stand and look at you like a farmer +looking at a turkey the week before Christmas, and that I don't like!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, bosh!" Jules Keaveney, the Skilk Resident-Agent, at the head of +the table, exclaimed. "If they don't bow and scrape to you and get off +the sidewalk to let you pass, you say they're insolent and need a +lesson. If they do, you say they're plotting insurrection."</p> + +<p>"What I said," Mordkovitz repeated, "was that I expect a certain +amount of disorder, and a certain minimum show of hostility toward us +from some of these geeks, to conform to what I know to be our +unpopularity with many of them. When I don't find it, I want to know +why."</p> + +<p>"I'm inclined," von Schlichten came to his subordinate's support, "to +agree. This sudden absence of overt hostility is disquieting. Colonel +Cheng-Li," he called on the local Intelligence officer and +Constabulary chief. "This fellow Rakkeed was here, about a month ago. +Was there any noticeable disorder at that time? Anti-Terran +demonstrations, attacks on Company property or personnel, shooting at +aircars, that sort of thing?"</p> + +<p>"No more than usual, general. In fact, it was when Rakkeed came here +that the condition General Mordkovitz was speaking of began to become +conspicuous."</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten nodded. "And I might say that Lieutenant-Governor +Blount has reported from Keegark, where he is now, that the same +unnatural absence of hostility exists there."</p> + +<p>"Well, of course, general," Keaveney said patronizingly, "King Orgzild +has things under pretty tight control at Keegark. He'd not allow a few +fanatics to do anything to prejudice these spaceport negotiations."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"I wonder if the idea back of that spaceport proposition isn't to get +us concentrated at Keegark, where Orgzild could wipe us all out in one +surprise blow," somebody down the table suggested, and others nodded.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Orgzild wouldn't be crazy enough to try anything like that," +Commander Dirk Prinsloo, of the <i>Aldebaran</i>, declared. "He'd get away +with it for just twelve months—the time it would take to get the news +to Terra and for a Federation Space Navy task-force to get here. And +then, there'd be little bits of radioactive geek floating around this +system as far out as the orbit of Beta Hydrae VII."</p> + +<p>"That's quite true," von Schlichten agreed. "The point is, does +Orgzild know it? I doubt if he even believes there is a Terra."</p> + +<p>"Then where in Space does he think we come from?" Keaveney demanded.</p> + +<p>"I believe he thinks Niflheim is our home world," von Schlichten +replied. "Or, rather, the string of orbiters and artificial satellites +around Niflheim. Where he thinks Niflheim is, I wouldn't even try to +guess."</p> + +<p>"Yes. After he'd wiped us out, he might even consider the idea of an +invasion of Niflheim with captured contragravity ships," Hideyoshi +O'Leary chuckled. "That would be a big laugh—if any of us were alive, +then, to do any laughing."</p> + +<p>"You don't really believe that, general?" Keaveney asked. His tone was +still derisive, but under the derision was uncertainty. After all, +von Schlichten had been on Ullr for fifteen years, to his two.</p> + +<p>"Any question of geek psychology is wide open as far as I'm concerned; +the longer I stay here, the less I understand it." Von Schlichten +finished his brandy and got out cigarette-case and lighter. "I have an +idea of the sort of garbled reports these spies of his who spend a +year on Niflheim as laborers bring back."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"You know the line Rakkeed's been taking, of course," Colonel Cheng-Li +put in. "He as much as says that Niflheim's our home, and that the +farms where we raise food, here, and those evergreen plantings on Konk +Isthmus and between here and Grank are the beginning of an attempt to +drive all native life from this planet and make it over for +ourselves."</p> + +<p>"And that savage didn't think an idea like that up for himself; he got +it from somebody like Orgzild," the black-bearded brigadier-general +added. "You know, the main base off Niflheim is practically +self-supporting, with hyproponic-gardens and animal-tissue culture +vats. And it's enough bigger than one of the <i>City</i> ships to pass for +a little world. Yes; somebody like Orgzild, or King Firkked, here, +could easily pick up the idea that that's our home planet."</p> + +<p>"The Company ought to let us stockpile nuclear weapons here, just to +be on the safe side," another officer, farther down the table, said.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm not exactly in favor of that," von Schlichten replied. +"It's the same principle as not allowing guards who have to go in +among the convicts to carry firearms. If somebody like Orgzild got +hold of a nuclear bomb, even a little old First-Century H-bomb, he +could use it for a model and construct a hundred like it, with all the +plutonium we've been handing out for power reactors. And there are too +few of us, and we're concentrated in too few places, to last long if +that happened. What this planet needs, though, is a visit by a +fifty-odd-ship task-force of the Space Navy, just to show the geeks +what we have back of us. After a show like that, there'd be a lot less +<i>znidd suddabit</i> around here."</p> + +<p>"General, I deplore that sort of talk," Keaveney said. "I hear too +much of this mailed-fist-and-rattling-sabre stuff from some of the +junior officers here, without your giving countenance and +encouragement to it. We're here to earn dividends for the +stockholders of the Ullr Company, and we can only do that by gaining +the friendship, respect and confidence of the natives...."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Mr. Keaveney," Paula Quinton spoke. "I doubt if even you would +seriously accuse the Extraterrestrials Rights Association of favoring +what you call a mailed fist and rattling sabre policy. We've done +everything in our power to help these people, and if anybody should +have their friendship, we should. Well, only five days ago, in +Konkrook, Mr. Mohammed Ferriera and I were attacked by a mob, our +native aircar driver was murdered, and if it hadn't been for General +von Schlichten and his soldiers, we'd have lost our own lives. Mr. +Ferriera is still hospitalized as a result of injuries he received. It +seems that General von Schlichten and his Kragans aren't trying to get +friendship and confidence; they're willing to settle for respect, in +the only way they can get it—by hitting harder and quicker than the +natives can."</p> + +<p>Somebody down the table—one of the military, of course—said, "Hear, +hear!" Von Schlichten came as close as a man wearing a monocle can to +winking at Paula. Good girl, he thought; she's started playing on the +Army team, and about time!</p> + +<p>"Well, of course...." Keaveney began. Then he stopped, as a Terran +sergeant came up to the table and bent over Barney Mordkovitz' +shoulder, whispering urgently. The black-bearded brigadier rose +immediately, taking his belt from the back of his chair and putting it +on. Motioning the sergeant to accompany, he spoke briefly to Keaveney +and then came around the table to where von Schlichten sat, the +Resident-Agent accompanying him.</p> + +<p>"Message just came in from Konkrook, general," he said softly. +"Governor Harrington's dead."</p> + +<p>It took von Schlichten all of a second to grasp what had been said. +"Good God! When? How?"</p> + +<p>"Here's all we know, sir," the sergeant said, giving him a radioprint +slip. "Came in ten minutes ago."</p> + +<p>It was an all-station priority telecast. Governor-General Harrington +had died suddenly, in his room, at 2210; there were no details. He +glanced at his watch; it was 2243. Konkrook and Skilk were in the same +time-zone; that was fast work. He handed the slip to Mordkovitz, who +gave it to Keaveney.</p> + +<p>"You from the telecast station, sergeant?" he asked. "All right, in +that case, let's go."</p> + +<p>As he hurried from the banquet-room, he could hear Keaveney tapping on +his wine-glass.</p> + +<p>"Everybody, please! Let me have your attention! There has just come in +a piece of the most tragic news...."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>A woman captain met him just inside the door of the big soundproofed +room of the telecast station, next to the Administration Building.</p> + +<p>"We have a wavelength open to Konkrook, general," she said. "In booth +three."</p> + +<p>Another girl, a tech-sergeant, was in the booth; on the screen was the +image of a third young woman, a lieutenant, at Konkrook station. The +sergeant rose and started to leave the booth.</p> + +<p>"Stick around, sergeant," von Schlichten told her. "I'll want you to +take over when I'm through." He sat down in front of the combination +visiscreen and pickup. "Now, lieutenant; just what happened?" he +asked. "How did he die?"</p> + +<p>"We think it was poison, general. General M'zangwe has ordered autopsy +and chemical analysis. If you can wait about ten minutes, he'll be +able to talk to you, himself."</p> + +<p>"Call him. In the meantime, give me everything you know."</p> + +<p>"Well, at about 2210, the Kragan guard-sergeant on that floor heard +ten pistol-shots, as fast as they could be fired semi-auto, in the +governor's room. The door was locked, but he shot it off with his own +pistol and went in. He found Governor Harrington on the floor, wearing +only his gown, holding an empty pistol. He was in convulsions, +frothing at the mouth, in horrible pain. Evidently he'd fired his +pistol, which he kept on his desk, to call help; all the bullets had +gone into the ceiling. One of the medics got there in five minutes, +just as he was dying. He'd written his diary up to noon of today, and +broken off in the middle of a word. There was a bottle and an +overturned glass on his desk. The Constabulary got there a few minutes +later, and then Brigadier-General M'zangwe took charge. A white rat, +given fifteen drops from the whiskey-bottle, died with the same +symptoms in about ninety seconds."</p> + +<p>"Who had access to the whiskey-bottle?"</p> + +<p>"A geek servant, who takes care of the room. He was caught, an hour +earlier, trying to slip off the island without a pass; they were +holding him at the guardhouse when Governor Harrington died. He's now +being questioned by the Kragans." The girl's face was bleakly +remorseless. "I hope they do plenty to him!"</p> + +<p>"I hope they don't kill him before he talks."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Wait a moment, general; we have General M'zangwe, now," the girl +said. "I'll switch you over."</p> + +<p>The screen broke into a kaleidoscopic jumble of color, then cleared; +the chocolate-brown face of M'zangwe was looking out of it.</p> + +<p>"I heard what happened, how they found him, and about that geek +chamber-valet being arrested," von Schlichten said. "Did you get +anything out of him?"</p> + +<p>"He's admitted putting poison in the bottle, but he claims it was his +own idea. But he's one of Father Keeluk's parishioners, so...."</p> + +<p>"Keeluk! God damn, so that was it!" von Schlichten almost shouted. +"Now I know what he wanted with Stalin, and that goat, and those +rabbits! Of course they'd need terrestrial animals, to find out what +would poison a Terran! Who's in charge at Konkrook now?"</p> + +<p>"Not much of anybody. Laviola, the Fiscal Secretary, and Hans +Meyerstein, the Banking Cartel's lawyer, and Howlett, the Personnel +Chief, and Buhrmann, the Commercial Secretary, have made up a sort of +quadrumvirate and are trying to run things. I don't know what would +happen if anything came up suddenly...." A blue-gray uniformed arm, +with a major's cuff-braid, came into the screen, handing a slip of +paper to M'zangwe; he took it, glanced at it, and swore. Von +Schlichten waited until he had read it through.</p> + +<p>"Well, something has, all right," the African said. "Just got a call +from Jaikark's palace—a revolt's broken out, presumably headed by +Gurgurk; Household Guards either mutinied or wiped out by the +mutineers, all but those twenty Kragan Rifles we loaned Jaikark. They, +and about a dozen of Jaikark's courtiers and their personal retainers, +are holding the approaches to the King's apartments. The +native-lieutenant in charge of the Kragans just radioed in; says the +situation is desperate."</p> + +<p>"When a Kragan says that, he means damn near hopeless. Is this being +recorded?" When M'zangwe nodded, he continued. "All right. Use the +recording for your authority and take charge. I'm declaring martial +rule at Konkrook, as of now, 2258. Tell Eric Blount what's happened, +and what you've done, as soon as you can get in touch with him at +Keegark. I'm leaving for Konkrook at once! I ought to get in by 0800.</p> + +<p>"Now, as to the trouble at the Palace. Don't commit more than one +company of Kragans and ten airjeeps and four combat-cars, and tell +them to evacuate Jaikark and his followers and our Kragans to Gongonk +Island. And alert your whole force. These geek palace revolutions are +always synchronized with street-rioting, and this thing seems to have +been synchronized with Sid Harrington's death, too. Get our Kragans +out if you can't save anybody else from the Palace, but sacrificing +thirty or forty men to save twenty is no kind of business. And keep +sending reports; I can pick them up on my car radio as I come down." +He turned to the girl Sergeant. "Keep on this; there'll be more coming +in."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>He rose and left the booth. If we can pull Jaikark's bacon off the +fire, he was thinking, the Company can dictate its own terms to him +afterward; if Jaikark's killed, we'll have Gurgurk's head off for it, +and then take over Konkrook. In either case, it'll be a long step +toward getting rid of all these geek despots. And with Eric Blount as +Governor-General....</p> + +<p>The inner door of the soundproofed telecast-room burst open, three men +hurried inside, and it slammed shut behind them. In the brief +interval, there had been firing audible from outside. One of the men +had a pistol in his right hand, and with his left arm he supported a +companion, whose shoulder was mangled and dripped blood. The third man +had a burp-gun in his hands. All were in civilian dress—shorts and +light jackets. The man with the pistol holstered it and helped his +injured companion into a chair. The burp-gunner advanced into the +room, looked around, saw von Schlichten, and addressed him.</p> + +<p>"General! The geeks turned on us!" he cried. "The Tenth North Ullr's +mutinied; they're running wild all over the place. They've taken their +barracks and supply-buildings, and the lorry-hangars and the +maintenance-yard; they're headed this way in a mob. Some of the Zirk +Cavalry's joined them."</p> + +<p>"Have any ammo left for that burp-gun? Come on, then; let's see what +it's like at Company House," von Schlichten said. "Captain Malavez, +you know what to do about defending this station. Get busy doing it. +And have that girl in booth three tell Konkrook what's happened here, +and say that I won't be coming down, as I planned, just yet."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/image_05.jpg" width="400" height="569" alt="Illustration" /> +</div> + +<p>He opened the door, and the rattle of shots outside became audible +again. The civilian with the burp-gun knew better than to let a +general go out first; elbowing von Schlichten out of the way, he +crouched over his weapon and dashed outside. Drawing his pistol, von +Schlichten followed, pulling the door shut after him.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Darkness had fallen, while he had been inside; now the whole Company +Reservation was ablaze with electric lights. Somebody at the +power-plant had thrown on the emergency lights. There was a confused +mass of gray-skinned figures in front of Company House, reflected +light twinkling on steel over them; from the direction of the +native-troops barracks more natives were coming on the run. On the +roof of a building across the street, two machine-guns were already +firing into the mob. From up the street, a hundred-odd saurian-faced +native soldiers were coming at the double, bayonets fixed and rifles +at high port; with them ran-several Terrans. Motioning his companion +to follow, von Schlichten ran to meet them, falling in beside a Terran +captain who ran in front.</p> + +<p>"What's the score, captain?" he asked the panting captain.</p> + +<p>"Tenth North Ullr and the Fifth Cavalry have mutinied; so have these +rag-tag Auxiliaries. That mob down there's part of them." He was +puffing under the double effort of running and talking. "Whole thing +blew up in seconds; no chance to communicate with anybody...."</p> + +<p>A Terran woman, in black slacks and an orange sweater, ran across the +street in front of them, pursued by a group of enlisted "men" of the +Tenth North Ullr Native Infantry, all shrieking "<i>Znidd suddabit!</i>" +The fugitive ran into a doorway across the street; before her pursuers +were aware of their danger, the Kragans had swept over them. There was +no shooting; the slim, cruel-bladed bayonets did the work. From behind +him, as he ran, von Schlichten could hear Kragan voices in a new cry: +"<i>Znidd geek! Znidd geek!</i>"</p> + +<p>The mob were swarming up onto the steps and into the semi-rotunda of +the storm-porch. There was shooting, which told him that some of the +humans who had been at the banquet were still alive. He wondered, +half-sick, how many, and whether they could hold out till he could +clear the doorway, and, most of all, he found himself thinking of +Paula Quinton. Skidding to a stop within fifty yards of the mob, he +flung out his arms crucifix-wise to halt the Kragans. Behind, he could +hear the Terrans and native-officers shouting commands to form front.</p> + +<p>"Give them one clip, reload, and then give them the bayonet!" he +ordered. "Shove them off the steps and then clear the porch!"</p> + +<p>The hundred rifles let go all at once; and for five seconds they +poured a deafening two thousand rounds into the mutineers. There was +some fire in reply; a Zirk corporal narrowly missed him with a pistol; +he saw the captain's head fly apart when an explosive rifle-bullet hit +him, and half a dozen Kragans went down.</p> + +<p>"Reload! Set your safeties!" von Schlichten bellowed. "Charge!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Under human officers, the North Ullr Native Infantry would have stood +firm. Even under their native-officers and sergeants, they should not +have broken as they did, but the best of these had paid for their +loyalty to the Company with their lives. At that, the Skilkan +peasantry who made up the Tenth Infantry, and the Zirk cavalrymen, +tried briefly to fight as individuals, shrieking "<i>Znidd suddabit!</i>" +until the Kragans were upon them, stabbing and shooting. They drove +the rioters from the steps or killed them there, they wiped out those +who had gotten into the semicircle of the storm-porch. The inside +doors, von Schlichten saw, were open, but beyond them were Terrans and +a dozen or so Kragans. Hideyoshi O'Leary and Barney Mordkovitz seemed +to be in command of these.</p> + +<p>"We had about thirty seconds' warning," Mordkovitz reported, "and the +Kragans in the hall bought us another sixty seconds. Of course, we all +had our pistols...."</p> + +<p>"Hey! These storm-doors are wedged!" somebody discovered. "Those +goddam geek servants ...!"</p> + +<p>"Yeah; kill any of them you catch," somebody else advised. "If we +could have gotten these doors closed...."</p> + +<p>The mob, driven from the steps, was trying to re-form and renew the +attack. From up the street, the machine-guns, silent during the +bayonet-fight, began hammering again. The mob surged forward to get +out of their fire, and were met by a rifle-blast and a hedge of +bayonets at the steps; they surged back, and the machine-guns flailed +them again. They started to rush the building from whence the +automatic-fire came, and there was a fusilade and a shriek of "<i>Znidd +geek!</i>" from up the street. They turned and fled in the direction from +whence they had come, bullets scourging them from three directions at +once.</p> + +<p>For a moment, von Schlichten and the three Terrans and eighty-odd +Kragans who had survived the fight stood on the steps, weapons poised, +seeking more enemies. The machine-guns up the street stuttered a few +short bursts and were silent. From behind, the beleaguered Terrans and +their Kragan guards were emerging. He saw Jules Keaveney and his wife; +Commander Prinsloo of the <i>Aldebaran</i>; Harry Quong and Bogdanoff. Ah, +there she was! He heaved a breath of relief and waved to her.</p> + +<p>The Kragans were already setting about their after-battle chores. A +couple of hundred more Kragans, led by Native-Major Kormork, the +co-parent of young with King Kankad, came up at the double and stopped +in front of Company House.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"We were in quarters, aboard the <i>Aldebaran</i> and in the guest-house at +the airport," Kormork reported. "We were attacked, fifteen minutes +ago, by a mob. We took ten minutes beating them off, and five more +getting here. I sent Native-Captain Zeerjeek and the rest of the force +to re-take the supply-depot and the shops and lorry hangars, which had +been taken, and relieve the military airport, which is under attack."</p> + +<p>"Good enough. I hope you didn't spread yourself out too thin. What's +the situation at the commercial airport?"</p> + +<p>"The two ships, the <i>Aldebaran</i> and the freighter <i>Northern Star</i>, are +both safe," Kormork replied. "I saw them go on contragravity and rise +to about a hundred feet."</p> + +<p>"Whose crowd is that you have?" he asked the Terran lieutenant who had +taken over command of the first force of Kragans.</p> + +<p>"Company 6, Eighteenth Rifles, sir. We were on duty at the guardhouse; +fighting broke out in the direction of the native barracks. A couple +of runners from Captain Retief of Company 4 came in with word that he +was being attacked by mutineers from the Tenth N.U.N.I., but that he +was holding them back. So Captain Charbonneau, who was killed a few +minutes ago, left a Terran lieutenant and a Kragan native-lieutenant +and a couple of native-sergeants and thirty Kragans to hold the +guardhouse, and brought the rest of us here."</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten nodded. "You'd pass the military airport and the +power-plant, wouldn't you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. The military airport's holding out, and I saw the +red-and-yellow danger-lights on the fence around the power-plant."</p> + +<p>That meant the power-plant was, for the time, safe; somebody'd turned +twenty thousand volts into the fence.</p> + +<p>"All right. I'm setting up my command post at the telecast station, +where the communication equipment is." He turned to the crowd that had +come out onto the porch from inside. "Where's Colonel Cheng-Li?"</p> + +<p>"Here, general." The Intelligence and Constabulary officer pushed +through the crowd. "I was on the phone, talking to the military +airport, the commercial airport, ordnance depot, spaceport, ship-docks +and power plant. All answer. I'm afraid Pop Goode, at the city +power-plant, is done for; nobody answers there, but the TV-pickup is +still on in the load-dispatcher's room, and the place is full of +geeks. Colonel Jarman's coming here with a lorry to get combat-car +crews; he's short-handed. Port-Captain Leavitt has all the native +labor at the airport and spaceport herded into a repair dock; he's +keeping them covered with the forward 90-mm. gun of the <i>Northern +Star</i>. Lorry-hangars, repair-shops and maintenance-yards don't +answer."</p> + +<p>"That's what I was going to ask you. Good enough. Harry Quong, Hassan +Bogdanoff!"</p> + +<p>His command-car crew front-and-centered.</p> + +<p>"I want you to take Colonel O'Leary up, as soon as my car's brought +here.... Hid, you go up and see what's going on. Drop flares where +there isn't any light. And take a look at the native-labor camp and +the equipment-park, south of the reservation.... Kormork, you take all +your gang, and half these soldiers from the Eighteenth, here, and help +clear the native-troops barracks. And don't bother taking any +prisoners; we can't spare personnel to guard them."</p> + +<p>Kormork grinned. The taking of prisoners had always been one of those +irrational Terran customs which no Ullran regarded with favor, or even +comprehension.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>VI</h2> + + +<p>There was fresh intelligence from Konkrook, by the time he returned +to the telecast station. Mutiny had broken out there among the +laborers and native troops, who outnumbered the Terrans and their +Kragan mercenaries on Gongonk Island by five thousand to five hundred +and fifteen hundred respectively. The attempt to relieve Jaikark's +palace had been called off before the relief-force could be sent; +there was heavy and confused fighting all over the island, and most of +the combat contragravity and about half the Kragan Rifles had had to +be committed to defend the Company farms across the Channel, on the +mainland, south of the city. There had also been an urgent call for +help from Colonel Rodolfo MacKinnon, in command of Company troops at +the Keegark Residency.</p> + +<p>He called Keegark; a girl, apparently one of the civilian telecast +technicians, answered.</p> + +<p>"We must have help, General von Schlichten," she told him. "The native +troops, all but two hundred Kragans, have mutinied. They have +everything here except Company House—docks, airport, everything. +We're trying to hold out, but there are thousands of them."</p> + +<p>"What happened to Eric Blount and your Resident-Agent, Mr. Lemoyne?"</p> + +<p>"We don't know. They were at the Palace, talking to King Orgzild. +We've tried to call the Palace, but we can't get through. General, we +must have help...."</p> + +<p>A call came in, a few minutes later, from Krink, five hundred miles to +the north-east across the mountains; the Resident-Agent there, one +Francis Xavier Shapiro, reported rioting in the city and an attempted +palace-revolution against King Jonkvank, and that the Residency was +under attack. By way of variety, it was the army of King Jonkvank that +had mutinied; the Sixth North Ullr Native Infantry and the two +companies of Zirk cavalry at Krink were still loyal, along with the +Kragans.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>There was a pattern to all this. Von Schlichten stood staring at the +big map, on the wall, showing the Takkad Sea area at the Equatorial +Zone, and the country north of it to the Pole, the area of Ullr +occupied by the Company. He was almost beginning to discern the +underlying logic of the past half-hour's events when Keaveney, the +Skilk Resident, blundered into him in a half-daze.</p> + +<p>"Sorry, general; didn't see you." His face was ashen, and his jowls +sagged. "My God, it's happening all over Ullr! Why, it's the end of +all of us!"</p> + +<p>"It's not quite that bad, Mr. Keaveney." He looked at his watch. It +was now nearly an hour since the native troops here at Skilk had +mutinied. Insurrections like this usually succeeded or failed in the +first hour. "If we all do our part, we'll come out of it all right," +he told Keaveney, more cheerfully than he felt, then turned to ask +Brigadier-General Mordkovitz how the fighting was going at the +native-troops barracks.</p> + +<p>"Not badly, general. Colonel Jarman's got some contragravity up and +working. They blew out all four of the Tenth N.U.N.I.'s barracks; the +Tenth and the Zirks are trying to defend the cavalry barracks. Some of +our Kragans managed to slip around behind the cavalry stables. They're +leading out hipposaurs, and sniping at the rear of the cavalry +barracks."</p> + +<p>"That'll give us some cavalry of our own; a lot of these Kragans are +good riders.... How about the repair-shops and maintenance-yard and +lorry-hangars? I don't want these geeks getting hold of that equipment +and using it against us."</p> + +<p>"Kormork's outfit are trying to take back the lorry-hangars. Jarman's +got a couple of airjeeps and a combat-car helping them."</p> + +<p>"... won't be one of us left by this time tomorrow," Keaveney was +wailing, to Paula Quinton and another woman. "And the Company is +finished!"</p> + +<p>Colonel Cheng-Li, the Intelligence officer, approached Keaveney and +tried to quiet him. At the same time, a woman in black slacks and an +orange sweater—the one whose pursuers had been overrun by the Kragans +at the beginning of the fighting—approached von Schlichten.</p> + +<p>"General; King Kankad's calling," she said. "He's on the screen in +booth four."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Kankad's face was looking out of the screen at him, with Phil +Yamazaki, the telecast operator at Kankad's Town, standing behind him.</p> + +<p>"Von!" The Kragan spoke almost as though in physical pain. "What can I +do to help? I have twenty thousand of my people here who are capable +of bearing arms, all with firearms, but I have transport for only five +hundred. Where shall I send them?"</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten thought quickly. Keegark was finished; the Residency +stood in the middle of the city, surrounded by two hundred thousand of +King Orgzild's troops and subjects. Sending Kankad's five hundred +warriors and his meager contragravity there would be the same as +shovelling them into a furnace. The people at Keegark would have to be +written off, like the twenty Kragans at Jaikark's palace.</p> + +<p>"Send them to Konkrook," he decided. "Them M'zangwe's in command, +there; he'll need help to hold the Company farms. Maybe he can find +additional transport for you. I'll call him."</p> + +<p>"I'll send off what force I can, at once," Kankad promised. "How does +it go with you at Skilk?"</p> + +<p>"We're holding, so far," he replied.</p> + +<p>Captain Inez Malavez, the woman officer in charge of the station, put +her head into the booth.</p> + +<p>"General! Immediate-urgency message from Colonel O'Leary," she said. +"Native laborers from the mine-labor camp are pouring into the +mine-equipment park. Colonel O'Leary's used all his rockets and +mg-ammunition trying to stop them."</p> + +<p>"Call you back, later," von Schlichten told Kankad. "I'll see what +Them M'zangwe can do about transport; get what force you can started +for Konkrook at once."</p> + +<p>He left the booth. "Barney!" he called. "General Mordkovitz! Who's the +ranking officer in direct contact with the Eighteenth Rifles? Major +Falkenberg?"</p> + +<p>"That's right."</p> + +<p>"Well, tell him to get as many of his Kragans as he can spare down to +the equipment-park." He turned to Inez Malavez. "You call Jarman; tell +him what O'Leary reported, and tell him to get cracking on it. Tell +him not to let those geeks get any of that equipment onto +contragravity; knock it down as fast as they try to lift out with it. +And tell him to see what he can do in the way of troop-carriers or +lorries, to get Falkenberg's Rifles to the equipment-park.... How's +business at the lorry-hangars and maintenance-yard?"</p> + +<p>"Kormork's still working on that," the girl captain told him. "Nothing +definite, yet."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>In one corner of the big room, somebody had thumbtacked a +ten-foot-square map of the Company area to the floor. Paula Quinton +and Mrs. Jules Keaveney were on their knees beside it, pushing out +handfuls of little pink and white pills that somebody had brought in +two bottles from the dispensary across the road, each using a +billiard-bridge. The girl in the orange sweater had a handful of +scribbled notes, and was telling them where to push the pills. There +were other objects on the map, too—pistol-cartridges, and +cigarettes, and foil-wrapped food-concentrate wafers. Paula, seeing +him, straightened.</p> + +<p>"The pink are ours, general," she said. "The white are the geeks." Von +Schlichten suppressed a grin; that was the second time he'd heard her +use that word, this evening. "The cigarettes are airjeeps, the +cartridges are combat-cars, and the wafers are lorries or +troop-carriers."</p> + +<p>"Not exactly regulation map-markers, but I've seen stranger things +used.... Captain Malavez!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir?" The girl captain, rushing past, her hands full of +teleprint-sheets, stopped in mid-stride.</p> + +<p>"What we need," he told her, "is a big TV-screen, and a pickup mounted +on some sort of a contragravity vehicle at about two to five thousand +feet directly overhead, to give us an image of the whole area. Can +do?"</p> + +<p>"Can try, sir. We have an eight-foot circular screen that ought to do +all right for two thousand feet. I'll implement that at once."</p> + +<p>Going into a temporarily idle telecast booth, he called Konkrook, and +finally got Themistocles M'zangwe on the screen.</p> + +<p>"How is it, now?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Getting a little better," the Graeco-African replied. "Half an hour +ago, we were shooting geeks out the windows, here; now we have them +contained between the spaceport and the native-troops and labor +barracks, and down the east side of the island to the farms. We have +the wire around the farms on the island electrified, and we're using +almost all our combat contragravity to keep the farms on the mainland +clear." He hesitated for a moment. "Did you hear about Eric Blount and +Lemoyne?"</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten shook his head.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"The whole party that were at Orgzild's palace were massacred. Some of +them were lucky enough to get killed fighting. The geeks took Eric and +Hendrik alive; rolled them in a puddle of thermoconcentrate fuel and +set fire to them. When we can spare the contragravity, we're going to +drop something on the Kee-geek embassy, over in town."</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten grimaced, but he'd expected something like it. He told +M'zangwe about King Kankad's offer. "His crowd ought to be coming in +in a couple of hours. What can you scrape up to send to Kankad's Town +to airlift Kragans in?"</p> + +<p>"Well, we have three hundred-and-fifty-foot gun-cutters, one 90-mm. +apiece. The <i>Elmoran</i>, the <i>Gaucho</i>, and the <i>Bushranger</i>. But they're +not much as transports, and we need them here pretty badly. Then, we +have five fertilizer and charcoal scows, and a lot of heavy transport +lorries, and two one-eighty-foot pickup boats."</p> + +<p>"How about the <i>Piet Joubert?</i>" von Schlichten asked. "She was due in +Konkrook from the east about 1300 today, wasn't she?"</p> + +<p>M'zangwe swore. "She got in, all right. But the geeks boarded her at +the dock, within twenty minutes after things started. They tried to +lift out with her, and the Channel Battery shot her down into Konkrook +Channel, off the Fifty-sixth Street docks."</p> + +<p>"Well, you couldn't let the geeks have her, to use against us. What do +you hear from the other ships?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Procyon's</i> at Grank; we haven't had any reports of any kind from +there, which doesn't look so good. The <i>Northern Lights</i> is at Grank, +too. The <i>Oom Paid Kruger</i> should have been at Bwork, in the east, +when the gun went off. And the <i>Jan Smuts</i> and the <i>Christiaan De +Wett</i> were both at Keegark; we can assume Orgzild has both of them."</p> + +<p>"All right. I'm sending <i>Aldebaran</i> to Kankad's, to pick up more +reenforcements for you."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Leaving the booth, he heard, above the clatter of +communications-machines and the hubbub of voices, Jules Keaveney +arguing contentiously. Evidently Colonel Cheng-Li's efforts to drag +the Resident out of his despondency had been an excessive success.</p> + +<p>"But it's crazy! Not just here; everywhere on Ullr!" Keaveney was +saying. "How did they do it? They have no telecast equipment."</p> + +<p>"You have me stopped, Jules," Mordkovitz was replying. "I know a lot +of rich geeks have receiving sets, but no sending sets."</p> + +<p>The pattern that had been tantalizing von Schlichten took visible +shape in his mind. For a moment, he shelved the matter of the +<i>Aldebaran</i>.</p> + +<p>"They didn't need sending equipment, Barney," he said. "They used +ours. Sid Harrington was poisoned in Konkrook. The news, of course, +was sent out at once, as the geeks knew it would be, to every +residency and trading-station on Ullr, and that was the signal they'd +agreed upon, probably months in advance!"</p> + +<p>"Well, what was our Intelligence doing; sleeping?" Keaveney demanded +angrily.</p> + +<p>"No; they were writing reports for your civil administration blokes to +stuff in the wastebasket, and being called mailed-fist-and-rattling-sabre +alarmists for their pains." He turned away from Keaveney. "Barney, where +is Dirk Prinsloo?"</p> + +<p>"Aboard his ship. He hitched a ride to the airport with Jarman, when +he was here picking up air-crews."</p> + +<p>"Call him. Tell him to take the <i>Aldebaran</i> to Kankad's Town, at once; +as soon as he arrives there, which ought to be about 1100, he's to +pick up all the Kragans he can pack aboard and take them to Konkrook. +From then on, he'll be under Them M'zangwe's orders."</p> + +<p>"To Konkrook?" Keaveney fairly howled. "Are you nuts? Don't you think +we need reenforcements here, too?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do. I'm going to try to get them," von Schlichten told him. +"Now pipe down and get out of people's way."</p> + +<p>He crossed the room, to where two Kragans, a male sergeant, and the +ubiquitous girl in the orange sweater were struggling to get a big +circular TV-screen up, then turned to look at the situation-map. A +girl tech-sergeant was keeping Paula Quinton and Mrs. Jules Keaveney +informed.</p> + +<p>"Start pushing geeks out of the Fifth Zirk Cavalry barracks," the +sergeant was saying. "The one at the north end, and the one next to +it; they're both on fire, now." She tossed a slip into the wastebasket +beside her and glanced at the next slip. "And more pink pills back of +the barracks and stables, and move them a little to the north-west; +Kragans as skirmishers, to intercept geeks trying to slip away from +the cavalry barracks."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>A young Kragan with his lower left arm in a sling and a daub of +antiseptic plaster over the back of his head came up and gave him a +radioprint slip. Guido Karamessinis, the Resident-Agent at Grank, had +reported, at last. The city, he said, was quiet, but King Yoorkerk's +troops had seized the Company airport and docks, taken the <i>Procyon</i> +and the <i>Northern Lights</i> and put guards aboard them, and were +surrounding the Residency. He wanted to know what to do.</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten managed to get him on the screen, after awhile.</p> + +<p>"It looks as though Yoorkerk's trying to play both sides at once," he +told the Grank Resident. "If the rebellion's put down, he'll come +forward as your friend and protector; if we're wiped out elsewhere, +he'll yell '<i>Znidd suddabit!</i>' and swamp you. Don't antagonize him; we +can't afford to fight this war on any more fronts than we are now. +We'll try to do something to get you unfrozen, before long."</p> + +<p>He called Krink again. A girl with red-gold hair and a dusting of +freckles across her nose answered.</p> + +<p>"How are you making out?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"So far, fine, general. We're in complete control of the Company area, +and all our native-troops, not just the Kragans, are with us. +Jonkvank's pushed the mutineers out of his palace, and we're keeping +open a couple of streets between there and here. We airlifted all our +Kragans and half the Sixth N.U.N.I. to the Palace, and we have the +Zirks patrolling the streets on 'saur-back. Now, we have our lorries +and troop-carriers out picking up elements of Jonkvank's loyal troops +outside town."</p> + +<p>"Who's doing the rioting, then?"</p> + +<p>She named three of Jonkvank's regiments. "And the city hoodlums, and +priests from the temples of one sect that followed Rakkeed, and the +whole passel of Skilkan fifth columnists."</p> + +<p>"How long do you think it'd take, with the equipment you have, to +airlift all of Jonkvank's loyal troops into the city?"</p> + +<p>"Not before this time tomorrow."</p> + +<p>"All right. Are you in radio communication with Jonkvank now?"</p> + +<p>"Full telecast, audio-visual," the girl replied. "Just a minute, +general."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>He put in his geek-speaker. Within a few minutes, a saurian Ullran +face was looking out of it at him; a harsh-lined, elderly, face, with +an old scar, quartz-crusted, along one side.</p> + +<p>"Your Majesty," von Schlichten greeted him.</p> + +<p>Jonkvank pronounced something intended to correspond to von +Schlichten's name. "We have image-met under sad circumstances, +general," he said.</p> + +<p>"Sad for both of us, King Jonkvank; we must help one another. I am +told that your soldiers in Krink have risen against you, and that your +loyal troops are far from the city."</p> + +<p>"Yes. That was the work of my War Minister, Hurkkirk, who was in the +pay of King Firkked of Skilk, may Jeels devour him alive! I have +Hurkkirk's head here somewhere. I can have it found, if you want to +see it."</p> + +<p>"Dead-traitors' heads do not interest me, King Jonkvank," von +Schlichten replied, in what he estimated that the Krinkan king would +interpret as a tone of cold-blooded cruelty. "There are too many +traitors' heads still on traitors' shoulders.... What regiments are +loyal to you, and where are they now?"</p> + +<p>Jonkvank began naming regiments and locating them, all at minor +provincial towns at least a hundred miles from Krink.</p> + +<p>"Hurkkirk did his work well; I'm afraid you killed him too +mercifully," von Schlichten said. "Well, I'm sending the <i>Northern +Star</i> to Krink. She can only bring in one regiment at a trip, the way +they're scattered; which one do you want first?"</p> + +<p>Jonkvank's mouth, until now compressed grimly, parted in a gleaming +smile. He made an exclamation of pleasure which sounded rather like a +boy running along a picket fence with a stick.</p> + +<p>"Good, general! Good!" he cried. "The first should be the regiment +Murderers, at Furnk; they all have rifles like your soldiers. Have +them brought to the Great Square, at the Palace here. And then, the +regiment Fear-Makers, at Jeelznidd, and the regiment Corpse-Reapers, +at...."</p> + +<p>"Let that go until the Murderers are in," von Schlichten advised. +"They're at Furnk, you say? I'll send the <i>Northern Star</i> there, +directly."</p> + +<p>"Oh, good, general! I will not soon forget this! And, as soon as the +work is finished here, I will send soldiers to help you at Skilk. +There shall be a great pile of the heads of those who had part in this +wickedness, both here and there!"</p> + +<p>"Good. Now, if you will pardon me, I'll go to give the necessary +orders...."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>As he left the booth, he saw Hideyoshi O'Leary in front of the +situation-map, and hailed him.</p> + +<p>"Harry and Hassan are getting the car re-ammoed; they dropped me off +here. Want to come up with us and see the show?" O'Leary asked, as he +saw the general.</p> + +<p>"No, I want you to go to Krink, as soon as Harry brings the car here +again." He told O'Leary what he intended doing. "You'll probably have +to go around ahead of the <i>Star</i> and alert these regiments. And as +soon as things stabilize at Krink, prod Jonkvank into airlifting +troops here. You're authorized, in my name, to promise Jonkvank that +he can assume political control at Skilk, after we've stuffed +Firkked's head in the dustbin."</p> + +<p>Jules Keaveney, who always seemed to be where he wasn't wanted, heard +that and fairly screamed.</p> + +<p>"General von Schlichten! That is a political decision! You have no +authority to make promises like that; that is a matter for the +Governor-General, at least!"</p> + +<p>"Well, as of now, and until a successor to Sid Harrington can be sent +here from Terra, I'm Governor-General," von Schlichten told him, +mentally thanking Keaveney for reminding him of the necessity for such +a step. "Captain Malavez! You will send out an all-station telecast, +immediately: Military Commander-in-Chief Carlos von Schlichten, being +informed of the deaths of both Governor-General Harrington and +Lieutenant-Governor Blount, assumes the duties of Governor-General, as +of 0001 today." He turned to Keaveney. "Does that satisfy you?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>"No, it doesn't. You have no authority to assume a civil position of +any sort, let alone the very highest position...."</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten unbuttoned his holster and took out his authority, +letting Keaveney look in to the muzzle of it.</p> + +<p>"Here it is," he said. "If you're wise, don't make me appeal to it."</p> + +<p>Keaveney shrugged. "I can't argue with that," he said. "But I don't +fancy the Ullr Company is going to be impressed by it."</p> + +<p>"The Ullr Company," von Schlichten replied, "is six and a half parsecs +away. It takes a ship six months to get from here to Terra, and +another six months to get back. A radio message takes a little over +twenty-one years, each way." He holstered the pistol again.</p> + +<p>"That brings up another question, general," one of Keaveney's +subordinates said. "Can we hold out long enough for help to get here +from Terra?"</p> + +<p>"By the time help could reach us from Terra," von Schlichten replied, +"we'll either have this revolt crushed, or there won't be a live +Terran left on Ullr." He felt a brief sadistic pleasure as he watched +Keaveney's face sag in horror. "On this planet, there's not more than +a three months' supply of any sort of food a human can eat. And the +ships that'll be coming in until word of our plight can get to Terra +won't bring enough to keep us going. We need the farms and livestock +and the animal-tissue culture plant at Konkrook, and the farms at +Krink and on the plateau back of Skilk, and we need peace and native +labor to work them."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Nobody seemed to have anything to say after that, for awhile. Then +Keaveney suggested that the next ship was due in from Niflheim in +three months, and that it could be used to evacuate all the Terrans on +Ullr.</p> + +<p>"And I'll personally shoot any able-bodied Terran who tries to board +that ship," von Schlichten promised. "Get this through your heads, all +of you. We are going to break this rebellion, and we are going to hold +Ullr for the Company and the Terran Federation." He looked around him. +"Now, get back to work, all of you," he told the group that had formed +around him and Keaveney. "Miss Quinton, you just heard me order my +adjutant, Colonel O'Leary, on detached duty to Krink. I want you to +take over for him. You'll have rank and authority as colonel for the +duration of this war."</p> + +<p>She was thunderstruck. "But I know absolutely nothing about military +matters. There must be a hundred people here who are better qualified +than I am...."</p> + +<p>"There are, and they all have jobs, and I'd have to find replacements +for them, and replacements for the replacements. You won't leave any +vacancy to be filled. And you'll learn, fast enough." He went over to +the situation-map again, and looked at the arrangements of pink and +white pills. "First of all, I want you to call Jarman, at the military +airport, and have an airjeep and driver sent around here for me. I'm +going up and have a look around. Barney, keep the show going while I'm +out, and tell Colonel Quinton what it's all about."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>VII</h2> + + +<p>He looked at his watch, as the light airjeep let down into the street. +Oh-one-fifteen—two hours and a half since the mutiny at the +native-troops barracks had broken out. The Company reservation was +still ablaze with lights, and over the roof of the hospital and +dispensary and test-lab he could see the glare of the burning +barracks. There was more fire-glare to the south, in the direction of +the mine-equipment park and the mine-labor camp, and from that +direction the bulk of the firing was to be heard.</p> + +<p>The driver, a young lieutenant, slid back the duraglass canopy for him +to climb in, then snapped it into place when he had strapped himself +into his seat, and hit the controls.</p> + +<p>They lifted up, the driver turning the nose of the airjeep in the +direction of the flames and explosions and magnesium-lights to the +south and tapping his booster-button gently. The vehicle shot forward +and came floating in over the scene of the fighting. The situation-map +at the improvised headquarters had shown a mixture of pink and white +pills in the mine-equipment park; something was going to have to be +done about the lag in correcting it, for the area was entirely in the +hands of loyal Company troops, and the mob of laborers and mutinous +soldiers had been pushed back into the temporary camp where the +workers had been gathered to await transportation to the Arctic. As he +had feared, the rioting workers, many of whom were trained to handle +contragravity equipment, had managed to lift up a number of +dump-trucks and power-shovels and bulldozers, intending to use them as +improvised air-tanks, but Jarman's combat-cars had gotten on the job +promptly and all of these had been shot down and were lying in +wreckage, mostly among the rows of parked mining-equipment.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>From the labor-camp, a surprising volume of fire was being directed +against the attack which had already started from the retaken +equipment-park.</p> + +<p>Hovering above the fighting, aloof from it, he saw six long +troop-carriers land and disgorge Kragan Rifles who had been released +by the liquidation of resistance at the native-troops barracks. A +little later, two air-tanks floated in, and then two more, going off +contragravity and lumbering forward on treads to fire their 90-mm. +rifles. At the same time, combat-cars swooped in, banging away with +their lighter auto-cannon and launching rockets. The titanium +prefab-huts, set up to house the laborers and intended to be taken +north with them for their stay on the polar desert, were simply wiped +away. Among the wreckage, resistance was being blown out like the +lights of a candelabrum.</p> + +<p>He took up the hand-phone and called HQ.</p> + +<p>"Von Schlichten; what's the wavelength of the officer in command at +the equipment-park?"</p> + +<p>A voice at the telecast station furnished it; he punched it out.</p> + +<p>"Von Schlichten, right overhead. That you, Major Falkenberg? Nice +going, major; how are your casualties?"</p> + +<p>"Not too bad. Twenty or thirty Kragans and loyal Skilkans, and eight +Terrans killed; about as many wounded."</p> + +<p>"Pretty good, considering what you're running into. Get many of your +Kragans mounted on those hipposaurs?"</p> + +<p>"About a hundred; a lot of 'saurs got shot, while we were leading them +out from the stables."</p> + +<p>"Well, I can see geeks streaming away from the labor-camp, out the +south end, going in the direction of the river. Use what cavalry you +have on them, and what contragravity you can spare. I'll drop a few +flares to show their position and direction."</p> + +<p>Anticipating him, the driver turned the airjeep and started toward the +dry Hoork River. Von Schlichten nodded approval and told him to +release flares when over the fugitives.</p> + +<p>"Right," Falkenberg replied. "I'll get on it at once, general."</p> + +<p>"And start moving that mine-equipment up into the Company area. Some +of it we can put into the air; the rest we can use to build +barricades. None of it do we want the geeks getting hold of, and the +equipment-park's outside our practical perimeter. I'll send people to +help you move it."</p> + +<p>"No need to do that, sir; I have about a hundred and fifty loyal North +Ullrans—foremen, technicians, overseers—who can handle it."</p> + +<p>"All right. Use your own judgment. Put the stuff back of the +native-troops barracks, and between the power-plant and the Company +office-buildings, and anywhere else you can." The lieutenant nudged +him and pushed a couple of buttons on the dashboard. "Here go the +flares, now."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Immediately, a couple of airjeeps pounced in, to strafe the fleeing +enemy. Somebody must have already been issuing orders on another +wavelength; a number of Kragans, riding hipposaurs, were galloping +into the light of the flares.</p> + +<p>"Now, let's have a look at the native barracks and the +maintenance-yards," he said. "And then, we'll make a circuit around +the Reservation, about two-three miles out. I'm not happy about where +Firkked's army is."</p> + +<p>The driver looked at him. "I've been worrying about that, too, sir," +he said. "I can't understand why he hasn't jumped us, already. I know +it takes time to get one of these geek armies on the road, but...."</p> + +<p>"He's hoping our native-troops and the mine laborers will be able to +wipe us out, themselves," von Schlichten said.</p> + +<p>There was nothing going on in the area between the native barracks +and the mountains except some sporadic firing as small patrols of +Kragans clashed with clumps of fleeing mutineers. All the barracks, +even those of the Rifles, were burning; the red-and-yellow +danger-lights around the power-plant and the water-works and the +explosives magazines were still on. Most of the floodlights were still +on, and there was still some fighting around the maintenance-yard. It +looked as though the survivors of the Tenth N.U.N.I. were in a few +small pockets which were being squeezed out.</p> + +<p>There was nothing at all going on north of the Reservation; the +countryside, by day a checkerboard of walled fields and small +villages, was dark, except for a dim light, here and there, where the +occupants of some farmhouse had been awakened by the noise of battle.</p> + +<p>Then, two miles east of the Reservation, he caught a new sound—the +flowing, riverlike, murmur of something vast on the move.</p> + +<p>"Hear that, lieutenant?" he asked. "Head for it, at about a thousand +feet. When we're directly above it, let go some flares."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir." The younger man had lowered his voice to a whisper.</p> + +<p>"That's geeks; headed for the Reservation."</p> + +<p>"Maybe Firkked's army," von Schlichten thought aloud. "Or maybe a city +mob."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The noises were growing clearer, louder. He picked up the phone and +punched the wavelength of the military airport.</p> + +<p>"Von Schlichten; my compliments to Colonel Jarman. Tell him there's a +geek mob, or possibly Firkked's regulars, on the main highway from +Skilk, two miles east of the Reservation. Get some combat +contragravity over here, at once. We'll light them up for you. And +tell Colonel Jarman to start flying patrols up and down along the +Hoork River; this may not be the only gang that's coming out to see +us."</p> + +<p>The sounds were directly below, now—the scuffing of horny-soled feet +on the dirt road, the clink and rattle of slung weapons, the clicking +and squeaking of Ullran voices.</p> + +<p>The lieutenant said: "Here go the flares, sir."</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten shut his eyes, then opened them slowly. The driver, +upon releasing the flares, had nosed up, banked, turned, and was +coming in again, down the road toward the advancing column. Von +Schlichten peered into his all-armament sight, his foot on the +machine-gun pedal and his fingers on the rocket buttons. The highway +below was jammed with geeks, and they were all stopped dead and +staring upward, as though hypnotized by the lights. It was obviously a +mob. A second later, they had recovered and were shooting—not at the +airjeep, but at the four globes of blazing magnesium. Then he had the +close-packed mass of non-humanity in his sights; he tramped the pedal +and began punching buttons. He still had four rockets left by the time +the mob was behind him.</p> + +<p>"All right, let's take another pass at them. Same direction."</p> + +<p>The driver put the airjeep into a quick loop and came out of it in +front of the mob, who now had their backs turned and were staring in +the direction in which they had last seen the vehicle. Again, von +Schlichten plowed them with rockets and harrowed them with his guns. +Some of the Skilkans were trying to get over the high fences on either +side of the road—really stockades of petrified tree-trunks. Others +were firing, and this time they were shooting at the airjeep. It took +one hit from a heavy shellosaur-rifle, and immediately the driver +banked and turned away from the road, heading back.</p> + +<p>"Dammit, why did you do that?" von Schlichten demanded, lifting his +foot from the gun-pedal. "Are you afraid of the kind of popguns those +geeks are using?"</p> + +<p>"I am not afraid to risk my vehicle, or myself, sir," the lieutenant +replied, with the extreme formality of a very junior officer chewing +out a very senior one. "I am, however, afraid to risk my passenger. +Generals are not expendable, sir."</p> + +<p>He was right, of course. Von Schlichten admitted it. "I'm too old to +play cowboy, like this," he said. "Back to the Reservation; telecast +station."</p> + +<p>Looking back over his shoulder, he saw eight or ten more flares +alight, and the ground-flashes of exploding shells and rockets; the +air above the road was sparkling with gun-flames. Jarman must have had +some contragravity ready to be sent off on the instant.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>While he had been out, somebody had gotten a TV-pickup mounted on a +contragravity-lifter and run up to two thousand feet, on the end of a +steel-tough tensilon mooring-line. The big circular screen was lit, +showing the whole Company Reservation, with the surrounding +countryside foreshortened by perspective to the distant lights of +Skilk. The map had been taken up from the floor, and a big +terrain-board had been brought in from the Chief Engineer's office and +set up in its place. In front of the screen, Paula Quinton, Barney +Mordkovitz, Colonel Cheng-Li, and, conspicuously silent, Jules +Keaveney, sat drinking coffee and munching sandwiches. Half a dozen +Terrans, of both sexes, were working furiously to get the markers +which replaced the pink and white pills placed on the board, and one +of Captain Inez Malavez' non-coms, with a headset, was getting combat +reports directly from the switchboard. Everything was clicking like +well-oiled machinery.</p> + +<p>On the TV-screen, the Residency area was ablaze with light, and so +were the ship-docks, the airport and spaceport, the shops, and the +maintenance-yard. On the terrain-board, the latter was now marked as +completely in Company hands. The ruins of the native-troops barracks +were still burning, and there was a twinkle of orange-red here and +there among the ruins of the labor-camp. Much of the equipment for the +Polar mines had already been shifted into defensible ground. The rest +of the circle was dark, except for the distant lights of Skilk, where +the nuclear power plant was apparently still functioning in native +hands.</p> + +<p>Then, without warning, a spot of white light blazed into being +south-east of the Company area and south-west of Skilk, followed by +another and another. Instantly, von Schlichten glanced up at the row +of smaller screens, and on one of them saw the view as picked up by a +patrolling airjeep.</p> + +<p>The army of King Firkked of Skilk had finally put in its appearance, +about three miles south of the Reservation. The Skilkan regulars had +been marching in formation, some on the road and some along parallel +lanes and paths. They had the look of trained and disciplined troops, +but they had made the same mistake as the rabble that had been shot up +on the north side of the Reservation. Unused to attack from the air, +they had all halted in place and were gaping open-mouthed, their opal +teeth gleaming in the white flare-light.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>In the big screen, it could be seen that Colonel Jarman had thrown +most of his available contragravity at them, including the combat-cars +that had already started to form the second wave of the attack on the +mob to the north. Other flares bloomed in the darkness, and the fiery +trails of rockets curved downward to end in yellow flashes on the +ground.</p> + +<p>The airjeep with the pickup circled back; the troops on the road and +in the adjoining fields had broken. The former were caught between the +fences which made Ullran roads such deathtraps when under air-attack. +The latter had dispersed, and were running away, individually and by +squads; at first, it looked like a panic, but he could see officers +signalling to the larger groups of fugitives to open out, apparently +directing the flight. By this time, there were ten or twelve +combat-cars and about twenty airjeeps at work. In the moving view from +the pickup-jeep, he saw what looked like a 90-mm. rocket land in the +middle of a company that was still trying to defend itself with +small-arms fire on the road, wiping out about half of them.</p> + +<p>"The next time they're air-struck, they won't stay bunched," +Mordkovitz stated. "A lot of them didn't stay bunched this time, if +you noticed. And they'll keep out from between the fences."</p> + +<p>In the large screen, a quick succession of gun-flashes leaped up from +the direction of the Hoork River; shells began bursting over the scene +of the attack. The screen tuned to the pickup on the airjeep went +dead; in the big screen, there was a twinkling of falling fire. Almost +at once, thirty or forty rocket-trails converged on the gun-position, +and, for a moment, explosions burned like a bonfire.</p> + +<p>"They had a 75-mm. at the rear of the column," somebody called from +the big switchboard. "Lieutenant Kalanang's jeep was hit; Lieutenant +Vermaas is cutting in his pickup on the same wavelength."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The small screen lighted again. In the big screen, a cluster of +magnesium-lights then appeared above where the Skilkan gun had been; +in the small screen, there was a stubbled grain-field, pocked with +craters, and the bodies of fifteen or twenty natives, all rather badly +mangled. An overturned and apparently destroyed 75-mm. gun lay on its +side.</p> + +<p>"As far as we know, that was the only 75-mm. gun Firkked had," Colonel +Cheng-Li said. "He has at least six, possibly ten, 40-mm's. It's a +wonder we haven't seen anything of them."</p> + +<p>"Well, there's no way of being sure," Jules Keaveney said, "but I have +an idea they're all at or around the Palace. Firkked knows about how +much contragravity we have. He's probably wondering why we aren't +bombing him, now."</p> + +<p>"He doesn't know we've sold the Palace to King Jonkvank for an army," +von Schlichten said. "And that reminds me; how much contragravity +could Firkked scrape together, for an attack on us? I've been +expecting a geek Luftwaffe over here, at any moment."</p> + +<p>Colonel Cheng-Li studied the smoking tip of his cigarette for a +moment. "Well, Firkked owns, personally, three ten-passenger aircars, +a thing like a troop-carrier that he transports some of his courtiers +around in, four airjeeps armed with a pair of 15-mm. machine-guns +apiece, and two big lorries. There are possibly two hundred vehicles +of all types in Skilk and the country around, but some of them are in +the hands of natives friendly to us."</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten nodded. "And there'll be oodles of +thermoconcentrate-fuel, and blasting explosives. Colonel Quinton, +suppose you call Ed Wallingsby, the Chief Engineer, right away; have +him commissioned colonel. Tell him to get to work making this place +secure against air-attack, to consult with Colonel Jarman, and to get +those geeks Leavitt has penned in the repair-dock at the airport and +use them to dig slit-trenches and fill sandbags and so on. He can use +Kragan limited-duty wounded to guard them.... Mr. Keaveney, you'll +begin setting up something in the way of an ARP-organization. You'll +have to get along on what nobody else wants. You will also consult +with Colonel Jarman, and with Colonel Wallingsby. Better get started +on it now. Just think of everything around here that could go wrong in +case of an air attack, and try to do something about it in advance."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>VIII</h2> + + +<p>At 0245, an attack developed on the north-western corner of the +Reservation, in the direction of the explosives magazines. It turned +out to be relatively trivial. Remnants of the mob that had been broken +up by air attack on the road had gotten together and were making +rushes in small bands, keeping well spread out. Beating them off took +considerable ammunition, but it was accomplished with negligible +casualties to the defenders. They finally stopped coming around +daylight.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, Themistocles M'zangwe called from Konkrook. "About +six hundred of Kankad's people have gotten in, already, in the +damnedest collection of vehicles you ever saw," he reported. "Kankad +must be using every scrap of contragravity he has; it's a regular +airborne Dunkirk-in-reverse. Kankad sent word that he's coming here in +person, as soon as he has things organized at his place. And the +geeks, here, have scraped together an air-force of their +own—farm-lorries, aircars, that sort of thing—and they're using them +to bomb us here and at the mainland farm, mostly with nitroglycerine. +We've shot down about twenty of them, but they're still coming. They +tried a boat-attack across the Channel. We've been doing some bombing, +ourselves; we made a down-payment for Eric Blount and Hendrik Lemoyne. +Took a fifty-ton tank off a fuel-lorry, fitted it with a detonator, +filled it with thermoconcentrate, and ferried it over on the Elmoran +and dumped it on the Keegarkan Embassy. It must have landed in the +middle of the central court; in about fifteen seconds, flames were +coming out every window in the place." His face became less jovial. +"We had something pretty bad happen here, too," he said. "That +Konkrook Fencibles rabble of Prince Jaizerd's mutinied, along with the +others; they got into the hospital and butchered everybody in the +place, patients and staff. The Kragans got there too late to save +anybody, but they wiped out the Fencibles. Jaizerd himself was the +only one they took alive, and he didn't stay that way very long."</p> + +<p>"How are you making out with your Civil Administration crowd?"</p> + +<p>M'zangwe grimaced. "I haven't had to put any of them under actual +arrest, so far, but we've had to keep Buhrmann away from the +communications equipment by force. He wanted to call you up and chew +you out for not evacuating everybody in the North to Konkrook."</p> + +<p>"Is he crazy?"</p> + +<p>"No, just scared. He says you're going to get everybody on Ullr +massacred by detail, when you could save Konkrook by bringing them all +here."</p> + +<p>"You tell him I'm going to hold this planet, not just one city. Tell +him I have a sense of my duty to the Company and its stockholders, if +he hasn't; put it in those terms and he may understand you."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>By 0330, it was daylight; the attacks against the north-west corner of the +perimeter stopped entirely. Wallingsby had the three-hundred-odd Skilkan +laborers at work; he had gathered up all the tarpaulin he could find, and +had the two sewing-machines in the tentmaker's shop running on sandbags. +Jules Keaveney, to von Schlichten's agreeable surprise, had taken hold of +his ARP assignment, and was doing an efficient job in organizing for +fire-fighting, damage-control and first aid. Colonel Jarman had his +airjeeps and combat-cars working in ever-widening circles over the +countryside, shooting up everything in sight that even looked like +contragravity equipment. Some of these patrols had to be recalled, around +1030, when sporadic nuisance-sniping began from the side of the mountain +to the west. And, along with everything else, Paula Quinton managed to get +a complete digest prepared of the situation elsewhere in the +Terran-occupied parts of the planet.</p> + +<p>The situation at Konkrook was brightening steadily. The second wave of +Kankad's improvised airlift, reenforced by contragravity from +Konkrook, had come in; there were now close to two thousand fresh +Kragans on Gongonk Island and the mainland farms, Kankad himself with +them. The <i>Aldebaran</i> had reached Kankad's Town, and was loading +another thousand Kragans.... There was nothing more from Keegark. A +message from Colonel MacKinnon had come in at dawn, to the effect that +the geeks had penetrated his last defenses and that he was about to +blow up the Residency; thereafter Keegark went off the air.... By +0730, the <i>Northern Star</i> had landed the regiment Murderers, armed +with first-quality Terran infantry-rifles and a few machine-guns and +bazookas, at the Palace at Krink, and by 0845 she had returned with +another regiment, the Jeel-Feeders. The three-street lane connecting +the Palace and the Residency had been widened to six, and then to +eight.... Guido Karamessinis, at Grank, was still at uneasy peace with +King Yoorkerk, who was still undecided whether the rebels or the +Company were going to be the eventual victors, and afraid to take any +irrevocable step in either direction.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>At 1100, Paula Quinton and Barney Mordkovitz virtually ordered him to +get some sleep. He went to his quarters at Company House, downed a +spaceship-captain's-size drink of honey-rum, and slept until 1600. As +he dressed and shaved, he could hear, through the open window, the +slow sputter of small-arms-fire, punctuated by the occasional +<i>whump-whump-whump</i> of 40-mm. auto-cannon or the hammering of a +machine-gun.</p> + +<p>Returning to his command-post at the telecast station, the +terrain-board showed that the perimeter of defense had been pushed out +in a bulge at the north-west corner; the TV-screen pictured a crude +breastwork of petrified tree-trunks, sandbags, mining machinery, +packing-cases and odds-and-ends, upon which Wallingsby's native +laborers were working under guard while a skirmish-line of Kragans had +been thrown out another four or five hundred yards and were exchanging +potshots with Skilkans on the gullied hillside.</p> + +<p>"Where's Colonel Quinton?" he asked. "She ought to be taking a turn in +the sack, now."</p> + +<p>"She's taking one," Major Falkenberg told him. "General Mordkovitz +chased her off to bed a couple of hours ago, called me in to take her +place, and then went out to replace me. Colonel Guilliford's in the +hospital; got hit about thirteen hundred. They're afraid he's going to +lose a leg."</p> + +<p>More reports came in. The entire garrison of the small Residency at +Kwurk, the most northern of the eastern shore Free Cities, had arrived +at Kankad's Town in two hundred-foot contragravity scows and five +aircars. Two of the aircars arrived half an hour behind the rest of +the refugee flotilla, having turned off at Keegark to pay their +respects to King Orgzild. They reported the Keegark Residency in +ruins, its central buildings vanished in a huge crater; the <i>Jan +Smuts</i> and the <i>Christiaan De Wett</i> were still in the Company docks, +both apparently damaged by the blast which had destroyed the +Residency. One of the aircars had rocketed and machine-gunned some +Keegarkans who appeared to be trying to repair them; the other blew up +King Orgzild's nitroglycerine plant. Von Schlichten called Konkrook +and ordered a bombing-mission against Keegark organized, to make sure +the two ships stayed out of service.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The <i>Northern Star</i> was still bringing loyal troops into Krink. King +Jonkvank, whom von Schlichten called, was highly elated.</p> + +<p>"We are killing traitors wherever we find them!" he exulted. "The city +is yellow with their blood; their heads are piled everywhere! How is +it with you at Skilk? Do the heads fall?"</p> + +<p>"We have killed many, also," von Schlichten boasted. "And tonight, we +will kill more; we are preparing bombs of great destruction, which we +will rain down upon Skilk until there is not one stone left upon +another, or one infant of a day's age left alive!"</p> + +<p>Jonkvank reacted as he was intended to. "Oh, no, general; don't do all +that!" he exclaimed. "You promised me that I should have Skilk, on the +word of a Terran. Are you going to give me a city of ruins and +corpses? Ruins are no good to anybody, and I am not a Jeel, to eat +corpses."</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten shrugged. "When you are strong, you can flog your +enemies with a whip; when you are weak, all you can do is kill them. +If I had five thousand more troops, here...."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I will send troops, as soon as I can," Jonkvank hastened to +promise. "All my best regiments. But, now that we have stopped this +sinful rebellion, here, I can't take chances that it will break out +again as soon as I strip the city of troops."</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten nodded. Jonkvank's argument made sense; he would have +taken a similar position, himself.</p> + +<p>"Well, get as many as you can over here, as soon as possible," he +said. "We'll try to do as little damage to Skilk as we can, but...."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>At 1830, Paula joined him for her breakfast, while he sat in front of +the big screen, eating his dinner. There had been light ground-action +along the southern end of the perimeter—King Firkked's regulars, +reinforced by Zirk tribesmen and levies of townspeople, all of whom +seemed to have firearms, were filtering in through the ruins of the +labor-camp and the wreckage of the equipment-park—and there was +renewed sniping from the mountainside. The long afternoon of the +northern Autumn dragged on; finally, at 2200, the sun set, and it was +not fully dark for another hour. For some time, there was an ominous +quiet, and then, at 0030, the enemy began attacking in force, driving +herds of livestock—lumbering six-legged brutes bred by the North +Ullrans for food—to test the defenses for electrified wire and +landmines. Most of these were shot down or blown up, but a few got as +far as the wire, which, by now, had been strung and electrified +completely around the perimeter.</p> + +<p>Behind them came parties of Skilkan regulars with long-handled +insulated cutters; a couple of cuts were made in the wire, and a +section of it went dead. The line, at this point, had been rather +thinly held; the defenders immediately called for air-support, and +Jarman ordered fifteen of his remaining twenty airjeeps and five +combat-cars into the fight. No sooner were they committed than the +radar on the commercial airport control-tower picked up air vehicles +approaching from the north, and the air-raid sirens began howling and +the searchlights went on.</p> + +<p>The contragravity which had been sent to support the ground-defense at +the south side of the Reservation turned to meet this new threat, and +everything else available, including the four heavy air-tanks, lifted +up. Meanwhile, guns began firing from the ground and from rooftops.</p> + +<p>There had been four aircars, ordinary passenger vehicles equipped with +machine-guns on improvised mounts, and ten big lorries converted into +bombers, in the attack. All the lorries, and all but one of the +makeshift fighter-escort, were shot down, but not before explosive and +thermoconcentrate bombs were dumped all over the place. One lorry +emptied its load of thermoconcentrate-bombs on the control-building at +the airport, starting a raging fire and putting the radar out of +commission. A repair-shop at ordnance-depot was set on fire, and a +quantity of small-arms and machine-gun ammunition piled outside for +transportation to the outer defenses blew up. An explosive bomb landed +on the roof of the building between Company House and the telecast +station, blowing a hole in the roof and demolishing the upper floor. +And another load of thermoconcentrate, missing the power-plant, set +fire to the dry grass between it and the ruins of the native-troops +barracks.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Before the air-attack had been broken up, the soldiers of King Firkked +and their irregular supporters were swarming through the dead section +of wire. They had four or five big farm-tractors, nuclear-powered but +unequipped with contragravity-generators, which they were using like +ground-tanks of the First Century. This attack penetrated to the +middle of the Reservation before it was stopped and the attackers +either killed or driven out; for the first time since daybreak, the +red-and-yellow lights came on around the power-plant.</p> + +<p>As soon as the combined air and ground attack was beaten off, von +Schlichten ordered all his available contragravity up, flying patrols +around the Reservation and retaliatory bombing missions against Skilk, +and began bombarding the city with his 90-mm. guns. A number of fires +broke out, and at about 0200 a huge expanding globe of orange-red +flame soared up from the city.</p> + +<p>"There goes Firkked's thermoconcentrate stock," he said to Paula, who +was standing beside him in front of the screen.</p> + +<p>Half an hour later, he discovered that he had been over-optimistic. +Much of the enemy's supply of Terran thermoconcentrate had been +destroyed, but enough remained to pelt the Reservation and the Company +buildings with incendiaries, when a second and more severe air-attack +developed, consisting of forty or fifty makeshift lorry-bombers and +fifteen aircars.</p> + +<p>Like the first, the second air-attack was beaten off, or, more +exactly, down. Most of the enemy contragravity was destroyed; at least +two dozen vehicles crashed inside the Reservation. As in the first +instance, there was a simultaneous ground attack from the southern +side, with a demonstration-attack at the north end. It was full +daylight before the last of the attackers was either killed or driven +out.</p> + +<p>Five minutes later, the <i>Northern Star</i> came bulking over the +mountains from the west.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>IX</h2> + + +<p>Von Schlichten raced for the telecast station, to receive a call from +a Colonel Khalid ib'n Talal, aboard the approaching ship.</p> + +<p>"I've one of Jonkvank's regiments, the Jeel-Feeders, armed with Terran +9-mm. rifles and a few bazookas; I have a company of our Zirks, with +their mounts, and a battalion of the Sixth N.U.N.I.; I also have four +90-mm. guns, Terran-manned," he reported. "What's the situation, +general, and where do you want me to land?"</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten described the situation succinctly, in an ancient and +unprintable military cliche. "Try landing south of the Reservation, a +little west of the ruins of the labor-camp," he advised. "The bulk of +Firkked's army is in that section, and I want them run out as soon as +possible. We'll give you all the contragravity and fire support we +can."</p> + +<p>The <i>Northern Star</i> let down slowly, firing her guns and dropping +bombs; as she descended, rifle-fire spurted from all her lower-deck +portholes. There was cheering, human and Ullran, from inside the +battered defense-perimeter; combat-cars, airjeeps, and improvised +bombers lifted out to strafe the Skilkans on the ground, and the four +air-tanks moved out to take position and open fire with their +90-mm.'s, helping to flush King Firkked's regulars and auxiliaries out +of the gullies and ruins and drive them south along the mountain, away +from where the ship would land and also away from the city of Skilk. +The <i>Northern Star</i> set down quickly, and troops and artillery began +to be unloaded, joining in the fighting.</p> + +<p>It was five hundred miles to Krink; three hours after lifting out, the +<i>Northern Star</i> was back again, with two more of King Jonkvank's +infantry regiments, and by 1300, when the fourth load arrived from +Krink, the fighting was entirely on the eastern bank of the dry Hoork +River. This last contingent of reenforcements was landed in the +eastern suburbs of Skilk and began fighting their way into the city +from the rear.</p> + +<p>It was evident, however, that the pacification of Skilk would not be +accomplished as rapidly as von Schlichten wished—street fighting, +against a determined enemy, is notoriously slow work—and he decided +to risk the <i>Northern Star</i> in an attack against the Palace itself, +and, over the objections of Paula Quinton, Jules Keaveney, and Barney +Mordkovitz, to lead the attack in person.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Inside the city, he found that the Zirk cavalry from Krink had thrust +up one of the broader streets to within a thousand yards of the +Palace, and, supported by infantry, contragravity, and a couple of +air-tanks, were pounding and hacking at a mass of Skilkans whose +uniform lack of costume prevented distinguishing between soldiery and +townsfolk. Very few of these, he observed, seemed to be using +firearms; with his glasses, he could see them shooting with long +Northern air-rifles and a few Takkad Sea crossbows. Either weapon +would shoot clear through a Terran or half-way through an Ullran at +fifty yards, but at over two hundred they were almost harmless. There +were a few fires still burning from the bombardment of the night +before—Ullran, and particularly North Ullran, cities did not burn +well—and the blaze which had consumed the bulk of Firkked's stock of +thermoconcentrate fuel had long ago burned out, leaving an area of six +or eight blocks blackened and lifeless.</p> + +<p>The ship let down, while the six combat-cars which had accompanied her +buzzed the Palace roof, strafing it to keep it clear, and the Kragans +aboard fired with their rifles. She came to rest on seven-eights +weight reduction, and even before the gangplanks were run out, the +Kragans were dropping to the flat roof, running to stairhead +penthouses and tossing grenades into them.</p> + +<p>The taking of the Palace was a gruesome business. Knowing exactly how +much mercy they would have shown had they been storming the Residency, +Firkked's soldiers and courtiers fought desperately and had to be +exterminated, floor by floor, room by room, hallway by hallway. They +had to fight for every inch downward.</p> + +<p>Driving down from above, von Schlichten and his Kragans slithered over +floors increasingly greasy with yellow Ullran blood. He had picked up +a broadsword at the foot of the first stairway down; a little later, +he tossed it aside in favor of another, better balanced and with a +better guard. There was a furious battle at the doorways of the Throne +Room; finally, climbing over the bodies of their own dead and the +enemy's, they were inside.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Here there was no question of quarter whatever, at least as long as +Firkked lived; North Ullran nobles did not surrender under the eyes of +their king, and North Ullran kings did not surrender their thrones +alive. There was also a tradition, of which von Schlichten was +mindful, that a king must only be killed by his conqueror, in personal +combat, with steel.</p> + +<p>With a wedge of Kragan bayonets around him and the picked-up +broadsword in his hand, he fought his way to the throne, where Firkked +waited, a sword in one of his upper hands, his Spear of State in the +other, and a dagger in either lower hand. With his left hand, von +Schlichten detached the bayonet from the rifle of one of his followers +and went forward, trying not to think of the absurdity of a man of the +Sixth Century A.E., the representative of a civilized Chartered +Company, dueling to the death with swords with a barbarian king for a +throne he had promised to another barbarian, or of what could happen +on Ullr if he allowed this four-armed monstrosity to kill him.</p> + +<p>It was not as bad as it looked, however. The ornate Spear of State, +in spite of its long, cruel-looking blade, was not an especially good +combat-weapon, at least for one hand, and Firkked seemed confused by +the very abundance of his armament. After a few slashes and jabs, von +Schlichten knocked the unwieldy thing from his opponent's hand. This +raised a fearful ullulation from the Skilkan nobility, who had stopped +fighting to watch the duel; evidently it was the very worst sort of a +bad omen. Firkked, seemingly relieved to be disencumbered of the +thing, caught his sword in both hands and aimed a roundhouse swing at +von Schlichten's head; von Schlichten dodged, crippled one of +Firkked's lower hands with a quick slash, and lunged at the royal +belly. Firkked used his remaining dagger to parry, backed a step +closer his throne, and took another swing with his sword, which von +Schlichten parried on the bayonet in his left hand. Then, backing, he +slashed at the inside of Firkked's leg with the thousand-year-old +<i>coup-de-Jarnac</i>. Firkked, unable to support the weight of his +dense-tissued body on one leg, stumbled; von Schlichten ran him neatly +through the breast with his sword and through the throat with the +bayonet.</p> + +<p>There was silence in the throne-room for an instant, and then, with a +horrible collective shriek, the Skilkans threw down their weapons. One +of von Schlichten's Kragans slung his rifle and picked up the Spear of +State with all four hands, taking his post ceremoniously behind the +victor. A couple of others dragged the body of Firkked to the edge of +the dais, and one of them drew his leaf-shaped short-sword and +beheaded it.</p> + +<p>At mid-afternoon, von Schlichten was on the roof of the Palace, +holding the Spear of State, with Firkked's head impaled on the point, +while a Terran technician aimed an audio-visual recorder.</p> + +<p>"This," he said, with the geek-speaker in his mouth, "is King +Firkked's Spear of State, and here, upon it, is King Firkked's head. +Two days ago, Firkked was at peace with the Company, and Firkked was +King in Skilk. If he had not dared raise his feeble hand against the +might of the Ullr Company, he would still be alive, and his Spear +would still be borne behind him. So must all those who rise against +the Company perish.... Cut."</p> + +<p>The camera stopped. A Kragan came forward and took the Spear of State, +with its grisly burden, carrying it to a nearby wall and leaning it +up, like a piece of stage property no longer required for this scene +but needed for the next. Von Schlichten took out his geek-speaker, +wiped and pouched it, and took his cigarette case from his pocket.</p> + +<p>"Well, this is the limit!" Paula Quinton, who had come up during the +filming of the scene, exploded. "I thought you had to kill him +yourself in order to encourage your soldiers; I didn't think you +wanted to make a movie of it to show your friends."</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten tapped the cigarette on the gold-and-platinum case and +stared at her through his monocle.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, colonel." He lit the cigarette. "Your politico-military +education still needs a little filling in. At Grank, we have two +ships. One is the <i>Northern Lights</i>, sister ships of the <i>Northern +Star</i>. The other is the cruiser <i>Procyon</i>, the only real warship on +Ullr, with a main battery of four 200-mm. guns. How King Yoorkerk was +able to get control of those ships I don't know, but there will be a +board of inquiry and maybe a couple of courts-martial, when things get +stabilized to a point where we can afford such luxuries. As it is, we +need those ships desperately, and as soon as he gets in, I'm sending +Hideyoshi O'Leary to Grank with the <i>Northern Star</i> and a load of +Kragan Rifles, to pry them loose. The audio-visual of which this is +the last scene is going to be one of the crowbars he's going to use."</p> + +<p>"But why did you have to fight Firkked, yourself?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I had to kill him, myself, with a sword; according to local custom, +that makes me King of Skilk."</p> + +<p>"Why, your Majesty!" She rose and curtsied mockingly. "But I thought +you were going to make Jonkvank King of Skilk."</p> + +<p>He shook his head. "Just Viceroy," he corrected. "I'm handing the +Spear of State <i>down</i> to him, not up to him; he'll reign as my vassal, +and, consequently, as vassal of the Company, and before long, he won't +be much more at Krink, either. That'll take a little longer—there'll +have to be military missions, and economic missions, and +trade-agreements, and all the rest of it, first—but he's on the way +to becoming a puppet-prince."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Half an hour later, a large and excessively ornate air-launch, +specially built at the Konkrook shipyards for King Jonkvank, was +sighted coming over the mountain from the east. An escort of +combat-cars was sent to meet it, and a battalion of Kragans and the +survivors of Firkked's court were drawn up on the Palace roof.</p> + +<p>"His Majesty, Jonkvank, King of Krink!" the former herald of King +Firkked's court, now herald to King Carlos von Schlichten, shouted, +banging on a brass shield with the flat of his sword, as Jonkvank +descended from his launch, attended by a group of his nobles and his +Spear of State, with Hideyoshi O'Leary and Francis X. Shapiro +shepherding them. As the guests advanced across the roof, the herald +banged again on his shield.</p> + +<p>"His Majesty, Carlos von Schlichten,"—which came out more or less as +Karlok vonk Zlikdenk—"King, by right of combat, of Skilk!"</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten advanced to meet his fellow-monarch, his own Spear of +State, with Firkked's head still grinning from it, two paces behind +him.</p> + +<p>Jonkvank stopped, his face contorted with saurian rage.</p> + +<p>"What is this?" he demanded. "You told me that I could be King of +Skilk; is this how a Terran keeps his word?"</p> + +<p>"A Terran's word is always good, Jonkvank," von Schlichten replied, +omitting the titles, as was proper in one sovereign addressing +another. "My word was that you should reign in Skilk, and my word +stands. But these things must be done decently, according to custom +and law. I killed Firkked in single combat. Had I not done so, the +Spear of Skilk would have been left lying, for any of the young of +Firkked to pick up. Is that not the law?"</p> + +<p>Jonkvank nodded grudgingly. "It is the law," he admitted.</p> + +<p>"Good. Now, since I killed Firkked in lawful manner, his Spear is +mine, and what is mine I can give as I please. I now give you the +Spear of Skilk, to carry in my name, as I promised."</p> + +<p>The Kragan who was carrying the ceremonial weapon tossed the head of +Firkked from the point; another Kragan kicked it aside and advanced to +wipe the spear-blade with a rag. Von Schlichten took the spear and +gave it to Jonkvank.</p> + +<p>"This is not good!" one of the Skilkan nobles protested. "That you +should rule over us, yes. You killed Firkked in single combat, and you +are the soldier of the Company, which is mighty, as all here have +seen. But that this foreigner be given the Spear of Skilk, that is not +at all good!"</p> + +<p>Some of the others, emboldened by his example, were jabbering +agreement.</p> + +<p>"Listen, all of you!" von Schlichten shouted. "Here is no question of +Krink ruling over Skilk. Does it matter who holds the Spear of Skilk, +when he does so in my name? And King Jonkvank will be no foreigner. He +will come and live among you, and later he will travel back and forth +between Krink and Skilk, and he will leave the Spear of Krink in +Krink, and the Spear of Skilk in Skilk, and in Skilk he will be a +Skilkan. That is how it must be."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>That seemed to satisfy everybody except Jonkvank, and he had wit +enough not to make an issue of it. He even had the Spear of Krink +carried back aboard his launch, out of sight, and when he accompanied +von Schlichten, an hour later, to see Hideyoshi O'Leary off for Grank, +he had the Spear of Skilk carried behind him. When he was alone with +von Schlichten, in the room that had been King Firkked's bedchamber, +however, he exploded.</p> + +<p>"What is all this foolishness which you promised these people in my +name and which I must now carry out? That I am to leave the Spear of +Skilk in Skilk and the Spear of Krink in Krink, and come here to +live...."</p> + +<p>"You wish to hold Skilk?" von Schlichten asked.</p> + +<p>"I intend to hold Skilk. To begin with, there shall be a great killing +here. A very great killing: of all those who advised that fool of a +Firkked to start this business; of those who gave shelter to the false +prophet, Rakkeed, when he was here; of the faithless priests who gave +ear to his abominable heresies and allowed him to spew out his +blasphemies in the temples; of those who sent spies to Krink, to +corrupt and pervert my soldiers and nobles; of those who...."</p> + +<p>"All that is as it should be," von Schlichten agreed. "Except that it +must be done quickly and all at once, before the memories of these +crimes fade from the minds of the people. And great care must be taken +to kill only those who can be proven to be guilty of something; thus +it will be said that the justice of King Jonkvank is terrible to +evildoers but a protection and a shield to those who keep the peace +and obey the laws. And when the priests are to be killed, it should be +done under the direction of those other priests who were faithful to +the gods and whom King Firkked drove out of their temples, and it must +be done in the name of the gods. Thus will you be esteemed a pious, +and not an impious, king. It must not be allowed to seem that the city +has come under foreign rule. And you must not change the laws, unless +the people petition you to do so, nor must you increase the taxes, and +you must not confiscate the estates of those who are put to death, for +the death of parents is always forgiven before the loss of +patrimonies. And you should select certain Skilkan nobles, and become +the father of their young, and above all, you must leave none of the +young of Firkked alive, to raise rebellion against you later."</p> + +<p>Jonkvank nodded, deeply impressed. "By the gods, Karlok vonk Zlikdenk, +this is wisdom! Now it is to be seen why the likes of Firkked cannot +prevail against you, or against the Company as long as you are the +Company's upper sword-arm!"</p> + +<p>Honesty tempted von Schlichten, for a moment, to disclaim originality +for the principles he had just enunciated, even at the price of trying +to pronounce the name of Niccolo Machiavelli with a geek-speaker.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The sun slid lower and lower toward the horizon behind them as the +aircar bulleted south along the broad valley and dry bed of the Hoork +River, nearing the zone of equal day and night. Hassan Bogdanoff drove +while Harry Quong finished his lunch, then changed places to begin his +own. Von Schlichten got two bottles of beer from the refrigerated +section of the lunch-hamper and opened one for Paula Quinton and one +for himself.</p> + +<p>"What are we going to do with these geeks,"—she was using the nasty +and derogatory word unconsciously and by custom, now—"after this is +all over? We can't just tell them, 'Jolly well played; nice game, +wasn't it?' and go back to where we were Wednesday evening."</p> + +<p>"No, we can't. There's going to have to be a Terran seizure of +political power in every part of this planet that we occupy, and as +soon as we're consolidated around the north of Takkad Sea, we're going +to have to move in elsewhere," he replied. "Keegark, Konkrook, and the +Free Cities, of course, will be relatively easy. They're in arms +against us now, and we can take them over by force. We had to make +that deal with Jonkvank, or, rather, I did, so that will be a slower +process, but we'll get it done in time. If I know that pair as well as +I think I do, Jonkvank and Yoorkerk will give us plenty of pretexts, +before long. Then, we can start giving them government by law instead +of by royal decree, and real courts of justice; put an end to the +head-payment system, and to these arbitrary mass arrests and +tax-delinquency imprisonments that are nothing but slave-raids by the +geek princes on their own people. And, gradually, abolish serfdom. In +a couple of centuries, this planet will be fit to admit to the +Federation, like Odin and Freya."</p> + +<p>"Well, won't that depend a lot on whom the Company sends here to take +Harrington's place?"</p> + +<p>"Unless I'm much mistaken, the Company will confirm me," he replied. +"Administration on Ullr is going to be a military matter for a long +time to come, and even the Banking Cartel and the mercantile interests +in the Company are going to realize that, and see the necessity for +taking political control. And just to make sure, I'm sending Hid +O'Leary to Terra on the next ship, to make a full report on the +situation."</p> + +<p>"You think it'll be cleared up by then? The <i>City of Montevideo</i> is +due in from Niflheim in a little under three months."</p> + +<p>"It'll have to be cleared up by then. We can't keep this war going +more than a month, at the present rate. Police-action, and mopping-up, +yes; full-scale war, no."</p> + +<p>"Ammunition?" she asked.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>He looked at her in pleased surprise. "Your education has been +progressing, at that," he said. "You know, a lot of professional +officers, even up to field rank in the combat branches, seem to think +that ammo comes down miraculously from Heaven, in contragravity +lorries, every time they pray into a radio for it. It doesn't; it has +to be produced as fast as it's expended, and we haven't been doing +that. So we'll have to lick these geeks before it runs out, because we +can't lick them with gun-butts and bayonets."</p> + +<p>"Well, how about nuclear weapons?" Paula asked. "I hate to suggest +it—I know what they did on Mimir, and Fenris, and Midgard, and what +they did on Terra, during the First Century. But it may be our only +chance."</p> + +<p>He finished his beer and shoved the bottle into the waste-receiver, +then got out his cigarettes. "There isn't a single nuclear bomb on the +planet. The Company's always refused to allow them to be manufactured +or stockpiled here."</p> + +<p>"I don't think there'd be any criticism of your making them, now, +general. And there's certainly plenty of plutonium. You could make +A-bombs, at least."</p> + +<p>"There isn't anybody here who even knows how to make one. Most of our +nuclear engineers could work one up, in about three months, when we'd +either not need one or not be alive."</p> + +<p>"Dr. Gomes, who came in on the <i>Pretoria</i>, two weeks ago, can make +them," she contradicted. "He built at, least a dozen of them on +Niflheim, to use in activating volcanoes and bringing ore-bearing lava +to the surface."</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten's hand, bringing his lighter to the tip of his +cigarette, paused for a second. Then he completed the operation, +snapped it shut, and put it away.</p> + +<p>"When did all this happen?"</p> + +<p>She took time out for mental arithmetic; even a spaceship officer had +to do that, when a question of interstellar time-relations arose.</p> + +<p>"About three-fifty days ago, Galactic Standard. They'd put off the +first shot, six bombs, before I got in from Terra. I saw the second +shot a day or so before I left Niflheim on the <i>Canberra</i>. Dr. Gomes +had to stay over till the <i>Pretoria</i> to put off the third shot. Why?"</p> + +<p>"Did you run into a geek named Gorkrink, while you were on Nif?" he +asked her. "And what sort of work was he doing?"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Gorkrink? I don't seem to remember.... Oh, yes! He was helping Dr. +Murillo, the seismologist. His year was up after the second shot; he +came to Ullr on the <i>Canberra</i>. Dr. Murillo was sorry to lose him. He +understood Lingua Terra perfectly; Dr. Murillo could talk to him, the +way you do with Kankad, without using a geek-speaker."</p> + +<p>"Well, but what sort of work ...?"</p> + +<p>"Helping set and fire the A-bombs.... <i>Oh! Good Lord!</i>"</p> + +<p>"You can say that again, and deal in Allah, Shiva, and Kali," von +Schlichten told her. "Especially Kali.... Harry! See if you can get +some more speed out of this can. I want to get to Konkrook while it's +still there!"</p> + +<p>It wouldn't be there long, the way things looked. King Orgzild had +four tons of plutonium, and with Prince Gorkrink probably able to +build A-bombs, Keegark would be set to bring Ullr its first taste of +nuclear warfare. Von Schlichten shuddered as he pictured that +happening. At the moment, shuddering was about the only thing he could +do.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/image_06.jpg" width="400" height="570" alt="Illustration" /> +</div> +<h2>X</h2> +<p>It was full dark when Konkrook came in view beyond the East Konk +Mountains, a lurid smear on the underside of the clouds, and at +Gongonk Island and at the Company farms to the south, a couple of +bunches of searchlights were fingering about in the sky. When von +Schlichten turned on the outside sound-pickup, he could hear the +distant tom-tomming of heavy guns, and the crash of shells and bombs. +Keeping the car high enough to be above the trajectories of incoming +shells, Harry Quong circled over the city while Hassan Bogdanoff +talked to Gongonk Inland on the radio.</p> + +<p>The city was in a bad way. There were seventy-five to a hundred big +fires going, and a new one started in a rising ball of thermoconcentrate +flame while they watched. The three gun-cutters, <i>Elmoran</i>, <i>Gaucho</i> and +<i>Bushranger</i>, and about fifty big freight lorries converted to bombers, +were shuttling back and forth between the island and the city. The Royal +Palace was on fire from end to end, and the entire waterfront and +industrial district were in flames. Combat-cars and air jeeps were +diving in to shell and rocket and machine-gun streets and buildings. He +saw six big bomber-lorries move in dignified procession to unload, one +after the other, on a row of buildings along what the Terrans called +South Tenth Street, and on the roofs of buildings a block away, red and +blue flares were burning, and he could see figures, both human and +Ullran, setting up mortars and machine-guns.</p> + +<p>Landing on the top stage of Company House, on the island, they were +met by a Terran whom von Schlichten had seen, a few days ago, bossing +native labor at the spaceport, but who was now wearing a major's +insignia. He greeted von Schlichten with a salute which he must have +learned from some movie about the ancient French Foreign Legion. Von +Schlichten seriously returned it in kind.</p> + +<p>"Everybody's down in the Governor-General's office, sir," he said. +"Your office, that is. King Kankad's here with us, too."</p> + +<p>He accompanied them to the elevator, then turned to a telephone; when +von Schlichten and Paula reached the office, everybody was crowded at +the door to greet them: Themistocles M'zangwe, his arm in a sling; +Hans Meyerstein, the Johannesburg lawyer, who seemed to have even more +Bantu blood than the brigadier-general; Morton Buhrmann, the +Commercial Superintendent; Laviola, the Fiscal Secretary; a dozen or +so other officers and civil administrators. There was a hubbub of +greetings, and he was pleased to detect as much real warmth from the +civil administration crowd as from the officers.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm glad to be back with you," he replied, generally. "And let +me present Colonel Paula Quinton, my new adjutant; Hideyoshi O'Leary's +on duty in the North.... Them, this was a perfectly splendid piece of +work, here; you can take this not only as a personal congratulation, +but as a sort of unit citation for the whole crowd. You've all behaved +above praise." He turned to King Kankad, who was wearing a pair of +automatics in shoulder-holsters for his upper hands and another pair +in cross-body belt holsters for his lower. "And what I've said for +anybody else goes double for you, Kankad," he added, clapping the +Kragan on the shoulder.</p> + +<p>"All he did was save the lot of us!" M'zangwe said. "We were hanging +on by our fingernails here till his people started coming in. And +then, after you sent the <i>Aldebaran</i>...."</p> + +<p>"Where is the <i>Aldebaran</i>, by the way? I didn't see her when I came +in."</p> + +<p>"Based on Kankad's, flying bombardment against Keegark, and keeping an +eye out for those ships. Prinsloo caught the <i>De Wett</i> in the docks +there and smashed her, but the <i>Jan Smuts</i> got away, and we haven't +been able to locate the <i>Oom Paul Kruger</i>, either. They're probably +both on the Eastern Shore, gathering up reenforcements for Orgzild," +M'zangwe said.</p> + +<p>"Our ability to move troops rapidly is what's kept us on top this +long, and Orgzild's had plenty of time to realize it," von Schlichten +said. "When we get <i>Procyon</i> down here, I'm going to send her out, +with a screen of light scout-vehicles, to find those ships and get rid +of them.... How's Hid been making out, at Grank, by the way? I didn't +have my car-radio on, coming down."</p> + +<p>That touched off another hubbub: "Haven't you heard, general?" ... "Oh, +my God, this is simply out of this continuum!" ... "Well, tell him, +somebody!" ... "No, get Hid on the screen; it's his story!"</p> + +<p>Somebody busied himself at the switchboard. The rest of them sat down +at the long conference-table. Laviola and Meyerstein and Buhrmann were +especially obsequious in seating von Schlichten in Sid Harrington's +old chair, and in getting a chair for Paula Quinton. After awhile, the +jumbled colors on the big screen resolved themselves into an image of +Hideyoshi O'Leary, grinning like a pussycat beside an empty +goldfish-bowl, licking its chops.</p> + +<p>"Well, what happened?" von Schlichten asked, after they had exchanged +greetings. "How did Yoorkerk like the movies? And did you get the +<i>Procyon</i> and the <i>Northern Lights</i> loose?"</p> + +<p>"Yoorkerk was deeply impressed," O'Leary replied. "His story is that +he is and always was the true and ever-loving friend of the Company; +he acted to prevent quote certain disloyal elements unquote from +harming the people and property of the Company. <i>Procyon's</i> on the way +to Konkrook. I'm holding <i>Northern Lights</i> here and <i>Northern Star</i> at +Skilk; where do you want them sent?"</p> + +<p>"Leave <i>Northern Star</i> at Skilk, for the time being. Tell the +Company's great and good friend King Yoorkerk that the Company expects +him to contribute some soldiers for the campaign here and against +Keegark, when that starts; be sure you get the best-armed and +best-trained regiments he has, and get them down here as soon as +possible. Don't send any of your Kragans or Karamessinis' troops here, +though; hold them in Grank till we make sure of the quality of +Yoorkerk's friendship."</p> + +<p>"Well, general, I think we can be pretty sure, now. You see, he turned +Rakkeed the Prophet over to me...."</p> + +<p>"<i>What</i>?" Von Schlichten felt his monocle starting to slip and took a +firmer grip on it. "Who?"</p> + +<p>"Pay me, Them; he didn't drop it," Hideyoshi O'Leary said. "Why, +Rakkeed the Prophet. Yoorkerk was holding our ships and our people in +case we lost; he was also holding Rakkeed at the Palace in case we +won. Of course, Rakkeed thought he was an honored guest, right up till +Yoorkerk's guards dragged him in and turned him over to us...."</p> + +<p>"That geek," von Schlichten said, "is too smart for his own good. Some +of these days he's going to play both ends against the middle and both +ends'll fold in on him and smash him." A suspicion occurred to him. +"You sure this is Rakkeed? It would be just like Yoorkerk to try to +sell us a ringer."</p> + +<p>O'Leary shook his head solemnly. "I thought of that, right away. This +is the real article; Karamessinis' Constabulary and Intelligence +officers certified him for me. What do you want me to do, send him +down to Konkrook?"</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten shook his head. "Get the priests of the locally +venerated gods to put him on trial for blasphemy, heresy, +impersonating a prophet, practicing witchcraft without a license, or +any other ecclesiastical crimes you or they can think of. Then, after +he's been given a scrupulously fair trial, have the soldiers of King +Yoorkerk behead him, and stick his head up over a big sign, in all +native languages, 'Rakkeed the False Prophet.' And have audio-visuals +made of the whole business, trial and execution, and be sure that the +priests and Yoorkerk's officers are in the foreground and our people +stay out of the pictures."</p> + +<p>"Soap and towels, for General Pontius von Pilate!" Paula Quinton +called out.</p> + +<p>"That's an idea; I was wondering what to give Yoorkerk as a +testimonial present," Hideyoshi O'Leary said. "A nice thirty-piece +silver set!"</p> + +<p>"Quite appropriate," von Schlichten approved. "Well, you did a first-class +job. I want you back with us as soon as possible—incidentally, you're now +a brigadier-general—but not till the situation Grank-Krink-Skilk is +stabilized. And, eventually, you'll probably have to set up permanent +headquarters in the North."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>After Hideyoshi O'Leary had thanked him and signed off, and the screen +was dark again, he turned to the others.</p> + +<p>"Well, gentlemen, I don't think we need worry too much about the +North, for the next few days. How long do you estimate this operation +against Konkrook's going to take, to complete pacification, Them?"</p> + +<p>"How complete is complete pacification, general?" Themistocles +M'zangwe wanted to know. "If you mean to the end of organized +resistance by larger than squad-size groups, I'd say three days, give +or take twelve hours. Of course, there'll be small groups holding out +for a couple of weeks, particularly in the farming country and back in +the forest...."</p> + +<p>"We can forget them; that's minor-tactics stuff. We'll need to keep +some kind of an occupation force here for some time; they can deal +with that. We'll have to get to work on Keegark, as soon as possible; +after we've reduced Keegark, we'll be able to reorganize for a +campaign against the Free Cities on the Eastern Shore."</p> + +<p>"Begging your pardon, general, but reduce is a mild word for what we +ought to do to Keegark," Hans Meyerstein said. "We ought to raze that +city as flat as a football field, and then play football on it with +King Orgzild's head."</p> + +<p>"Any special reason?" von Schlichten asked. "In addition to the +Blount-Lemoyne massacre, that is?"</p> + +<p>"I should say so, general!" Themistocles M'zangwe backed Meyerstein +up. "Bob, you tell him."</p> + +<p>Colonel Robert Grinell, the Intelligence officer, got up and took the +cigar out of his mouth. He was short and round-bodied and bald-headed, +but he was old Terran Federation Regular Army through and through.</p> + +<p>"Well, general, we've been finding out quite a bit about the genesis +of this business, lately," he said. "From up North, it probably looked +like an all-Rakkeed show; that's how it was supposed to look. But the +whole thing was hatched at Keegark, by King Orgzild. We've managed to +capture a few prominent Konkrookans"—he named half a dozen—"who've +been made to talk, and a number of others have come in voluntarily and +furnished information. Orgzild conceived the scheme in the beginning; +Rakkeed was just the messenger-boy. My face gets the color of the +Company trademark every time I think that the whole thing was planned +for over a year, right under our noses, even to the signal that was to +touch the whole thing off...."</p> + +<p>"The poisoning of Sid Harrington, and our announcement of his death?" +von Schlichten asked.</p> + +<p>"You figured that out yourself, sir? Well, that was most of it."</p> + +<p>Grinell went on to elaborate, while von Schlichten tried to keep the +impatience out of his face. Beside him, Paula Quinton was fidgeting, +too; she was thinking, as he was, of what King Orgzild and Prince +Gorkrink were doing now. "And I know positively that the order for the +poisoning of Sid Harrington came from the Keegarkan Embassy, here, and +was passed down through Gurgurk and Keeluk to this geek here who +actually put the poison in the whiskey."</p> + +<p>"Yes. I agree that Keegark should be wiped out, and I'd like to have +an immediate estimate on the time it'll take to build a nuclear bomb +to do the job. One of the old-fashioned plutonium fission A-bombs will +do quite well."</p> + +<p>Everybody turned quickly. There was a momentary silence, and then +Colonel Evan Colbert, of the Fourth Kragan Rifles, the senior officer +under Themistocles M'zangwe, found his voice.</p> + +<p>"If that's an order, general, we'll get it done. But I'd like to +remind you, first, of the Company policy on nuclear weapons on this +planet."</p> + +<p>"I'm aware of that policy. I'm also aware of the reason for it. We've +been compelled, because of the lack of natural fuel on Ullr, to set up +nuclear power reactors and furnish large quantities of plutonium to +the geeks to fuel them. The Company doesn't want the natives here +learning of the possibility of using nuclear energy for destructive +purposes. Well, gentlemen, that's a dead issue. They've learned it, +thanks to our people on Niflheim, and unless my estimate is entirely +wrong, King Orgzild already has at least one First-Century +Nagasaki-type plutonium bomb. I am inclined to believe that he had at +least one such bomb, probably more, at the time when orders were sent +to his embassy, here, for the poisoning of Governor-General +Harrington."</p> + +<p>With that, he selected a cigarette from his case, offered it to Paula, +and snapped his lighter. She had hers lit, and he was puffing on his +own, when the others finally realized what he had told them.</p> + +<p>"That's impossible!" somebody down the table shouted, as though that +would make it so. Another—one of the civil administration +crowd—almost exactly repeated Jules Keaveney's words at Skilk: "What +the hell was Intelligence doing; sleeping?"</p> + +<p>"General von Schlichten," Colonel Grinell took oblique cognizance of +the question. "You've just made, by implication, a most grave charge +against my department. If you're not mistaken in what you've just +said, I deserve to be court-martialled."</p> + +<p>"I couldn't bring charges against you, colonel; if it were a +court-martial matter, I'd belong in the dock with you," von Schlichten +told him. "It seems, though, that a piece of vital information was +possessed by those who were unable to evaluate it, and until this +afternoon, I was ignorant of its existence. Colonel Quinton, suppose +you repeat what you told me, on the way down from Skilk."</p> + +<p>"Well, general, don't you think we ought to have Dr. Gomes do that?" +Paula asked. "After all, he constructed those bombs on Niflheim, and +it'll be he who'll have to build ours."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Von Schlichten nodded in instant agreement.</p> + +<p>"That's right." He looked around. "Where's Dr. Lourenço Gomes, the +nuclear engineer who came in on the <i>Pretoria</i>, two weeks ago? Send +out for him, and get him in here to me at once."</p> + +<p>There was another awkward silence. Then Kent Pickering, the chief of +the Gongonk Island power-plant, cleared his throat.</p> + +<p>"Why, general, didn't you know? Dr. Gomes is dead. He was killed +during the first half hour of the uprising."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>XI</h2> + + +<p>He flinched inwardly, and tightened his eye-muscles on the edge of the +monocle to keep them from flinching physically as well, trying to +freeze out of his face the consternation he felt.</p> + +<p>"That's bad, Kent," he said. "Very bad. I'd been counting heavily on +Dr. Gomes to design a bomb of our own."</p> + +<p>"Well, general, if you please." That was Air-Commodore Leslie +Hargreaves. "You say you suspect that King Orgzild has developed a +nuclear bomb. If that's true, it's a horrible danger to all of us. But +I find it hard to believe that the Keegarkans could have done so, with +their resources and at their technological level. Now, if it had been +the Kragans, that would have been different, but...."</p> + +<p>"Paula, you'd better carry on and explain what you told me, and add +anything else you can think of that might be relevant.... Is that +sound-recorder turned on? Then turn it on, somebody; we want this +taped."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Paula rose and began talking: "I suppose you all understand what +conditions are on Niflheim, and how these Ullran native workers are +employed; however, I'd better begin by explaining the purpose for +which these nuclear bombs were designed and used...."</p> + +<p>He smiled; she realized that he needed time to think, and she was +stalling to provide it. He drew a pencil and pad toward him and began +doodling in a bored manner, deliberately closing his mind to what she +was saying. There were two assumptions, he considered: first, that +King Orgzild already possessed a nuclear bomb which he could use when +he chose, and, second, that in the absence of Dr. Gomes, such a bomb +could only be produced on Gongonk Island after lengthy experimental +work. If both of these assumptions were true, he had just heard the +death-sentence of every Terran on Ullr. The first he did not for a +moment doubt. The reasons for making it were too good. He dismissed it +from further consideration and concentrated on the second.</p> + +<p>"... what's known as a Nagasaki-type bomb, the first type of +plutonium-bomb developed," Paula was saying. "Really, it's a +technological antique, but it was good enough for the purpose, and Dr. +Gomes could build it with locally available materials...."</p> + +<p>That was the crux of it. The plutonium bomb, from a military +standpoint, was as obsolete as the flintlock musket had been at the +time of the Second World War. He reviewed, quickly, the history of +weapons-development since the beginning of the Atomic Era. The +emphasis, since the end of the Second World War, had all been on +nuclear weapons and rocket-missiles. There had been the H-bomb, itself +obsolescent, and the Bethe-cycle bomb, and the subneutron bomb, and +the omega-ray bomb, and the negamatter bomb, and then the end of +civilization in the Northern Hemisphere and the rise of the new +civilization in South America and South Africa and Australia. Today, +the small-arms and artillery his troops were using were merely slight +refinements on the weapons of the First Century, and all the modern +nuclear weapons used by the Terran Federation were produced at the +Space Navy base on Mars, by a small force of experts whose skills were +almost as closed to the general scientific and technical world as the +secrets of a medieval guild. The old A-bomb was an historical +curiosity, and there was nobody on Ullr who had more than a layman's +knowledge of the intricate technology of modern nuclear weapons. There +were plenty of good nuclear-power engineers on Gongonk Island, but how +long would it take them to design and build a plutonium bomb?</p> + +<p>"... Gorkrink also has a good understanding of Lingua Terra," Paula +was saying. "He and Dr. Murillo conversed bi-lingually, just as I've +heard General von Schlichten and King Kankad talking to one another. I +haven't any idea whether or not Gorkrink could read Lingua Terra, or, +if so, what papers or plans he might have seen."</p> + +<p>"Just a minute, Paula," he said. "Colonel Grinell, what does your +branch have on this Gorkrink?"</p> + +<p>"He's the son of King Orgzild, and the daughter of Prince Jurnkonk," +Grinell said. "We knew he'd signed on for Nif, two years ago, but the +story we got was that he'd fallen out of favor at court and had been +exiled. I can see, now, that that was planted to mislead us. As to +whether or not he can read Lingua Terra, my belief is that he can. We +know that he can understand it when spoken. He could have learned to +read at one of those schools Mohammed Ferriera set up, ten or fifteen +years ago."</p> + +<p>"And Dr. Gomes and Dr. Murillo and Dr. Livesey left papers and plans +lying around all over the place," Paula added. "If he went to Niflheim +as a spy, he could have copied almost anything."</p> + +<p>"Well, there you have it," von Schlichten said. "When Gorkrink found +out that plutonium can be used for bombs, he began gathering all the +information he could. And as soon as he got home, he turned it all +over to Pappy Orgzild."</p> + +<p>"That still doesn't mean that the Kee-geeks were able to do anything +with it," Air-Commodore Hargreaves argued.</p> + +<p>"I think it does," von Schlichten differed. "As soon as Orgzild would +hear about the possibility of making a plutonium bomb, he'd set up an +A-bomb project, and don't think of it in terms of the old First +Century Manhattan Project. There would be no problem of producing +fissionables—we've been scattering refined plutonium over this planet +like confetti."</p> + +<p>"Well, an A-bomb's a pretty complicated piece of mechanism, even if +you have the plans for it," Kent Pickering said. "As I recall, there +have to be several subcritical masses of plutonium, or U-235, or +whatever, blown together by shaped charges of explosive, all of which +have to be fired simultaneously. That would mean a lot of electrical +fittings that I can't see these geeks making by hand."</p> + +<p>"I can," Paula said. "Have you ever seen the work these native +jewelers do? And didn't you tell me about a clockwork thing they have +at the university, here, to show the apparent movements of the +sun...."</p> + +<p>"That's right," von Schlichten said. "And what they couldn't make, +they could have bought from us; we've sold them a lot of electrical +equipment."</p> + +<p>"All right, they could have built an A-bomb," Buhrmann said. "But did +they?"</p> + +<p>"We assume they tried to. Gorkrink got back from Nif on the +<i>Canberra</i>, three months ago," von Schlichten said. "If Orgzild +decided to build an A-bomb, he wouldn't give the signal for this +uprising until he either had one or knew he couldn't make one, and he +wouldn't give up trying in only three months. Therefore, I think we +can assume that he succeeded, and had succeeded at the time he sent +Gorkrink here to get that four tons of plutonium we let him have, and, +incidentally, to tell his ambassador to pass the word to have Sid +Harrington poisoned according to plan."</p> + +<p>"Then why didn't he just use it on us at the start of the uprising?" +Meyerstein wanted to know.</p> + +<p>"Why should he? Getting rid of us is only the first step in Orgzild's +plan," Grinell said. "Back as far as geek history goes, the Kings of +Keegark have been trying to conquer Konkrook and the Free Cities and +make themselves masters of the whole Takkad Sea area. Let Konkrook +wipe us out, and then he can move in his troops and take Konkrook. Or, +if we beat off the geeks here, as we seem to be doing, he can bomb us +out and then move in on Konkrook. I think that as long as we're +fighting, here, he'll wait. The more damage we do to Konkrook, the +easier it'll be for him."</p> + +<p>"Then we'd better start dragging our feet on the Konkrook front," +Laviola said. "And get busy trying to build a bomb of our own."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Von Schlichten looked up at the big screen, on which the battle of +Konkrook was being projected from an overhead pickup.</p> + +<p>"I'll agree on the second half of it," von Schlichten said. "And we'll +also have to set up some kind of security-patrol system against +bombers from Keegark. And as soon as <i>Procyon</i> gets here, we'll have +to send her out to hunt down and destroy those two Boer-class +freighters, the <i>Jan Smuts</i> and the <i>Kruger</i>. And we'll have to +arrange for protection of Kankad's Town; that's sure to be another of +Orgzild's high-priority targets. As to the action against Konkrook, +I'll rely on your advice, Them. Can we delay the fall of the city for +any length of time?"</p> + +<p>M'zangwe shook his head. "When we divert contragravity to +security-patrol work, the ground action'll slow up a little, of +course. But the geeks are about knocked out, now."</p> + +<p>"The hell with it, then. I doubt if we'd be able to buy much time from +Orgzild by delaying victory in the city, and we'll probably need the +troops as workers over here." He turned to Pickering. "Dr. Pickering, +what sort of a crew can you scrape together to design a bomb for us?" +he asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, there's Martirano, and Sternberg, and Howard Fu-Chung, and Piet +van Reenen, and...." He nodded to himself. "I can get six or eight of +them in here in about twenty minutes; I'll have a project set up and +working in a couple of hours. There has to be somebody qualified on +duty at the plant, all the time, of course, but...."</p> + +<p>"All right; call them in. I want the bomb finished by yesterday +afternoon. And everybody with you, and you, yourself, had better +revert to civilian status. This isn't something you can do by the +numbers, and I don't want anybody who doesn't know what it's all about +pulling rank on your outfit. Go ahead, call in your gang, and let me +know what you'll be able to do, as soon as—sooner than—it's +possible."</p> + +<p>He turned to Hargreaves. "Les, you'll have charge of flying the +security patrols, and doing anything else you can to keep Orgzild from +bombing us before we can bomb him. You'll have priority on everything +second only to Pickering."</p> + +<p>Hargreaves nodded. "As you say, general, we'll have to protect +Kankad's, as well as this place. It's about five hundred miles from +here to Kankad's, and eight-fifty miles from Kankad's to Keegark...."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>He stopped talking to von Schlichten, and began muttering to himself, +running over the names of ships, and the speeds and pay-load +capacities of airboats, and distances. In about five minutes, he would +have a program worked out; in the meantime, von Schlichten could only +be patient and contain himself. He looked along the table, and caught +sight of a thin-faced, saturnine-looking man in a green shirt with a +colonel's three concentric circles marked on the shoulders in +silver-paint. Emmett Pearson, the communications chief.</p> + +<p>"Emmett," he said, "those orbiters you have strung around this planet, +two thousand miles out, for telecast rebroadcast stations. How much of +a crew could be put on one of them?"</p> + +<p>Pearson laughed. "Crew of what, general? White mice, or trained +cockroaches? There isn't room inside one of those things for anything +bigger to move around."</p> + +<p>"Well, I know they're automatic, but how do you service them?"</p> + +<p>"From the outside. They're only ten feet through, by about twenty in +length, with a fifteen-foot ball at either end, and everything's in +sections, which can be taken out. Our maintenance-gang goes up in a +thing like a small spaceship, and either works on the outside in +spacesuits, or puts in a new section and brings the unserviceable one +down here to the shops."</p> + +<p>"Ah, and what sort of a thing is this small spaceship, now?"</p> + +<p>"A thing like a pair of fifty-ton lorries, with airlocks between, and +connected at the middle; airtight, of course, and pressurized and +insulated, like a spaceship. One side's living' quarters for a six-man +crew—sometimes the gang's out for as long as a week at a time—and +the other side's a workshop."</p> + +<p>That sounded interesting. With contragravity, of course, terms like +"escape-velocity" and "mass-ratio" were of purely antiquarian +interest.</p> + +<p>"How long," he asked Pearson, "would it take to fit that vehicle with +a full set of detection instruments—radar, infrared and ultraviolet +vision, electron-telescope, heat and radiation detectors, the whole +works—and spot it about a hundred to a hundred and fifty miles above +Keegark?"</p> + +<p>"That I couldn't say, general," Emmett Pearson replied. "It'd have to +be a shipyard job, and a lot of that stuff's clear outside my +department. Ask Air-Commodore Hargreaves."</p> + +<p>"Les!" he called out. "Wake up, Les!"</p> + +<p>"Just a second, general." Hargreaves scribbled frantically on his pad. +"Now," he said, raising his head. "What is it, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Emmett, here, has a junior-grade spaceship that he used to service +those orbital telecast-relay stations of his. He'll tell you what it's +like. I want it fitted with every sort of detection device that can be +crammed into or onto it, and spotted above Keegark. It should, of +course, be high enough to cover not only the Keegark area, but +Konkrook, Kankad's, and the lower Hoork and Konk river-valleys."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I get it." Hargreaves snatched up a phone, punched out a +combination, and began talking rapidly into it in a low voice. After +awhile, he hung up. "All right, Mr. Pearson—Colonel Pearson, I mean. +Have your space-buggy sent around to the shipyard. My boys'll fix it +up." He made a note on another piece of paper. "If we live through +this, I'm going to have a couple of supra-atmosphere ships in service +on this planet.... Now, general; I have a tentative set-up. We're +going to need the <i>Elmoran</i> for patrol work south and east of +Konkrook, and the <i>Gaucho</i> and <i>Bushranger</i> to the north and +north-east, based on Kankad's. We'll keep the <i>Aldebaran</i> at Kankad's, +and use her for emergencies. And we'll have patrols of light +contragravity like this." He handed a map, with red-pencil and +blue-pencil markings, along to von Schlichten. "Red are Kankad-based; +blue are Konkrook-based."</p> + +<p>"That looks all right," von Schlichten said. "There's another thing, +though. We want scout-vehicles to cover the Keegark area with +radiation-detectors. These geeks are quite well aware of +radiation-danger from fissionables, but they're accustomed to the +ordinary industrial-power reactors, which are either very lightly +shielded or unshielded on top. We want to find out where Orgzild's +bomb-plant is."</p> + +<p>"Yes, general; as soon as we can get radiation detectors sent out to +Kankad's, we'll have a couple of fast aircars fitted with them for +that job."</p> + +<p>"We have detectors, at our laboratory and reaction-plant," Kankad +said. "And my people can make more, as soon as you want them." He +thought for a moment. "Perhaps I should go to the town, now. I could +be of more use there than here."</p> + +<p>Kent Pickering, who had been talking with his experts at a table +apart, returned.</p> + +<p>"We've set up a program, general," he said. "It's going to be a lot +harder than I'd anticipated. None of us seem to know exactly what we +have to do in building one of those things. You see, the uranium or +plutonium fission-bomb's been obsolete for over four hundred years. It +was a classified-secret matter long after its obsolescence, because it +hadn't been rendered any the less deadly by being superseded—there +was that A-bomb that the Christian Anarchist Party put together at +Buenos Aires in 378 A.E., for instance. And then, after it was +declassified, it had been so far superseded that it was of only +antiquarian interest; the textbooks dealt with it only in general +terms. The principles, of course, are part of basic nuclear science; +the secret of the A-bomb was just a bag of engineering tricks that we +don't have, and which we will have to rediscover. Design of tampers, +design of the chemical-explosive charges to bring subcritical masses +together, case-design, detonating mechanism, things like that.</p> + +<p>"The complete data on even the old Hiroshima and Nagasaki types is +still in existence, of course. You can get it at places like the +University of Montevideo Library, or Jan Smuts Memorial Library at +Cape Town. But we don't have it here. We're detailing a couple of +junior technicians to make a search of the library here on Gongonk +Island, but we're not optimistic. We just can't afford to pass up any +chance, even when it approaches zero-probability."</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten nodded. "That's about what I'd expected," he said. "I +suppose Gomes got his data out of one of the dustier storage-stacks at +Jan Smuts or Montevideo, in the first place.... Well, I still want +that bomb finished by yesterday afternoon, but since that's +impractical, you'll have to take a little—but as little as +possible—longer."</p> + +<p>"What are we going to do about publicity on this?" Howlett, the +personnel man. asked. "We don't want this getting out in garbled +form—though how it could be made worse by garbling I couldn't +guess—and having the troops watching the sky over their shoulders and +going into a panic as soon as they saw something they didn't +understand."</p> + +<p>"No, we don't. I've seen a couple of troop-panics," von Schlichten +said. "There can't be anything much worse than a panic."</p> + +<p>"I think the Terrans ought to be told the worst," Hargreaves said. +"And told that our only hope is to get a bomb of our own built and +dropped first. As to the Kragans.... What do you think, King Kankad?"</p> + +<p>"Tell them that we are building a bomb to destroy Keegark; that we are +running short of ammunition, and that it is our only hope of finishing +the war before the ammunition is gone," Kankad said. "Tell them +something of what sort of a bomb it is. But do not tell them that King +Orgzild already has such a bomb. Old Kankad, who made me out of +himself, told me about how our people fled in panic from the weapons +of the Terrans, when your people and mine were still enemies. This +thing is to the weapons they faced then as those weapons were to the +old Kragans' spears and bows.... And when the geeks from Grank come +here, tell them that we are winning and that if they fight well, they +can share the loot of Konkrook and Keegark."</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten looked up at the big screen. Already, Themistocles +M'zangwe had ordered the Channel Battery to reduce fire; the big guns +were firing singly, in thirty-second-interval salvos. There was less +bombing, too; contragravity was being drawn out of the battle.</p> + +<p>"Well, we all have things to do," he said, "and I think we've +discussed everything there is to discuss. Anybody think of anything +we've forgotten?... Then we're adjourned."</p> + +<p>He and Paula Quinton took the elevator to the roof, and sat side by +side, silently watching the conflagration that was raging across the +channel and the nearer flashes of the big guns along the island's city +side.</p> + +<p>"Wednesday night, I thought we were all cooked," Paula told him. +"Cleaning up the North in two days seemed like an impossibility, too. +Maybe you'll do it again."</p> + +<p>"If I pull this one out of the fire, I won't be a general; I'll be a +magician," he said. "Pickering'll be a magician, I mean; he's the boy +who'll save our bacon, if it's saveable." He looked somberly across +the flame-reflecting water. "Let's not kid ourselves; we're just +kicking and biting at the guards on the way up the gallows-steps."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/image_07.jpg" width="400" height="572" alt="Illustration" /> +</div> + +<p>"Well, why stop till the trap's sprung?" she asked. "What'll happen to +these people on this planet, after we're atomized?"</p> + +<p>"That I don't want to think about. Kankad's Town will get the second +bomb; Orgzild won't dare leave the Kragans after he's wiped us out. +Yoorkerk and Jonkvank, in the North, will turn on Keaveney and Shapiro +and Karamessinis and Hid O'Leary and wipe them out. And when the next +ship gets in here and they find out what happened, they'll send the +Federation Space Navy, and this planet'll get it worse than Fenris +did. They'll blast anything that has four arms and a face like a +lizard...."</p> + +<p>Half a dozen aircars lifted suddenly from the airport and streaked +away to the north-east. As they went past, in the light of the +burning-city, he could see that at least three of them had multiple +rocket-launchers on top. In a matter of seconds, a gun-cutter raced +after them, and a second, which had been over Konkrook, jettisoned a +bomb and turned away to follow.</p> + +<p>"Maybe that's it," Paula said.</p> + +<p>"Well, if it is, we won't be any better off anywhere else than here," +he told her. "Let's stay where we are and watch."</p> + +<p>After what seemed like a long time, however, a twinkle of lights +showed over the East Konk Mountains. They weren't the flashes of +explosions; some were magnesium flares, and some were the lights of a +ship.</p> + +<p>"That's <i>Procyon</i>, from Grank," he said. "Everybody gets a good mark +for this—detection stations, interceptors, gun-cutters. If that had +been it, there'd have been a good chance of stopping it." He felt +better than he had since Pickering had told him that Lourenço Gomes +was dead. "It's a good thing Gorkrink didn't pick up any dope on +guided missiles, while he was at it. As long as they have to deliver +it with contragravity, we have a chance."</p> + +<p>They rose from the balustrade where they had been sitting, and, for +the first time, he discovered that he had had his left arm over her +shoulder and that she had had her right hand resting on the point of +his right hip, just above his pistol. He picked up the folder of +papers she had been carrying, and put her into the elevator ahead of +him, and it was only when they parted on the living-quarters level +that he recalled having followed the older protocol of gallantry +rather than the precedence of military rank.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>XII</h2> + + +<p>He woke with a guilty start and looked up at the clock on the ceiling; +it was 0945. Kicking himself free of the covers, he slid his feet to +the floor and sprinted for the bathroom. While he was fussing to get +the shower adjusted to the right temperature, he bludgeoned his +conscience by telling himself that a wide-awake general is more good +than a half-asleep general, that there was nothing he could do but +hope that Hargreaves' patrols would keep the bomb away from Konkrook +until Pickering's brain-trust came up with one of their own, and that +the fact that the commander-in-chief was making sack-time would be +much better for morale than the spectacle of him running around in +circles. He shaved carefully; a stubble of beard on his chin might +betray the fact that he was worried. Then he dressed, put his monocle +in his eye, and called the headquarters that had been set up in Sid +Harrington's—now his—office. A girl at the switchboard appeared on +his screen, and gave place to Paula Quinton, who had been up for the +past two hours.</p> + +<p>"The <i>Northern Lights</i> got in about three hours ago, general," she +told him. "She had four of King Yoorkerk's infantry regiments +aboard—the Seventh, Glorious-and-Terrible, the Fourth, +Firm-in-Adversity, the Second, Strength-of-the-Throne, and the +Twelfth, Forever-Admirable. They're the sorriest looking rabble I ever +saw, but Hideyoshi says they're the best Yoorkerk has, and they all +have Terran-style rifles. General M'zangwe broke them into battalions, +and put a battalion in with each of the Kragan regiments. I think +they're more afraid of the Kragans than they are of the rebels."</p> + +<p>He nodded. That was probably the best way to employ them, within the +existing situation. The trouble was, Them M'zangwe was incurably +tactical-minded. Put those geeks of Yoorkerk's in with the Kragans and +they'd be most useful in conquering Konkrook, but the trouble was +that, after associating with Kragans, they might develop into +reasonably good troops, themselves, to the undesired improvement of +King Yoorkerk's army. On the other hand, maybe not. Keep them in +Company service long enough, and they might want to forget about +Yoorkerk and stay there.</p> + +<p>"How's the situation over in town?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's slowing up, since we began pulling contragravity out," she +told him, "but the geeks are breaking up rapidly.... Oh, there was +something funny about that hassle, last evening, when the Procyon came +in. Two contragravity vehicles, an aircar and an air-lorry, that went +out to meet the ship, are unaccounted for."</p> + +<p>"You mean two of our vehicles are missing?"</p> + +<p>She shook her head, frowning in perplexity. "Well, no. All the +vehicles that answered that unidentified-aircraft alert returned, but +there were these two that went out that we haven't any record of. +Colonel Grinell is investigating, but he can't find out anything...."</p> + +<p>"Tell him not to waste any more time," he said. "Those two were +probably geeks from Konkrook. You know, that's how the von Schlichten +family got out of Germany, in the Year Three—flew a bomber to Spain. +The Konkrook war-criminals are getting out before the Army of +Occupation moves in."</p> + +<p>"Well, the posts at the old Kragan castles report some contragravity, +and parties riding 'saurs, moving west from the city," she told him. +"There are a lot of refugees on the roads. And combat reports from +Konkrook agree that resistance is getting weaker every hour.... And +the supra-atmosphere observation-craft—they're beginning to call her +the Sky-Spy—is up a hundred and fifty miles over Keegark. We have +radar and vision screens and telemetered radiation and other detectors +here, tuned to her. They're installing a similar set on the <i>Northern +Lights</i> at the shipyard. By the way, Air-Commodore Hargreaves wants to +know if he can take a pair of 155-mm rifles from the Channel Battery +and mount them on the <i>Lights</i>."</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course; he can have anything he wants, as long as it isn't +urgently needed for the bomb project."</p> + +<p>"<i>Sky-Spy</i> reports normal contragravity traffic between Keegark and +the farming-villages around—aircars, lorries, a few scows—but +nothing suspicious. No trace of either of the Boer-class ships. +Kankad's people are building receiving sets to install on the +<i>Procyon</i> and the <i>Aldebaran</i>, and another set for Kankad's Town. +Pickering and his people are still working, but they all look pretty +frustrated. They have Major Thornton, at the ammunition plant, doing +experimental work on chemical-explosive charges to bring the +subcritical masses together and hold them together till an explosion +can be produced; they're using most of the skilled electrical and +electronics people to work up a detonating device. That's why +Kankad's people are doing most of the detection-device work. +Hargreaves is fitting a lot of small craft—combat-cars and civilian +aircars—with radar sets, to use for patrolling."</p> + +<p>"That sounds good," von Schlichten said. "I'll be around and see how +things are, after I've had some breakfast."</p> + +<p>He had breakfast at the main cafeteria, four floors down; there wasn't +as much laughing and talking as usual, but the crowd there seemed in +good spirits. He spent some time at headquarters, watching Keegark by +TV and radar. So far, nothing had been done about direct +reconnaissance over Keegark with radiation-detectors, but Hargreaves +reported that a couple of privately-owned aircars were being fitted +for the job.</p> + +<p>He made a flying inspection trip around the island, and visited the +farms south of the city, on the mainland, and, finally, made a sweep +in his command-car over the city itself. Reconnaissance in person was +an archaic and unprogressive procedure, and it was a good way to get +generals killed, but one could see a lot of things that would be +missed on TV. He let down several times in areas that had already been +taken, and talked to company and platoon officers. For one thing, King +Yoorkerk's flamboyantly-named regiments weren't quite as bad as Paula +had thought. She'd been spoiled by the Kragans in her appreciation of +other native troops. They had good, standard-quality, Volund-made +arms; they were brave and capable; and they had been just enough +insulted by being integrated into Kragan regiments to try to make a +good showing.</p> + +<p>By noon, resistance in the city was beginning to cave in. Surrender +flags were appearing on one after another of the Konkrookan rebel +strong-points, and at 1430, after he had returned to the Island, a +delegation, headed by the Konkrookan equivalent of Lord Mayor and +composed largely of prominent merchants, came across the channel under +a flag of truce to surrender the city's Spear of State, with abject +apologies for not having Gurgurk's head on the point of it. Gurgurk, +they reported had fled to Keegark by air the night before, which +explained the incident of the unaccountable aircar and lorry. The +Channel Battery stopped firing, and, with the exception of an +occasional spatter of small-arms fire, the city fell silent.</p> + +<p>At 1600, von Schlichten visited the headquarters Pickering had set up +in the office building at the power-plant. As he stepped off the lift +on the third floor, a girl, running down the hall with her arms full +of papers in folders, collided with him; the load of papers flew in +all directions. He stooped to help her pick them up.</p> + +<p>"Oh, general! Isn't it wonderful?" she cried. "I just can't believe +it!"</p> + +<p>"Isn't what wonderful?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't you know? They've got it!"</p> + +<p>"Huh? They have?" He gathered up the last of the big envelopes and +gave them to her. "When?"</p> + +<p>"Just half an hour ago. And to think, those books were around here all +the time, and.... Oh, I've got to run!" She disappeared into the lift.</p> + +<p>Inside the office, one of Pickering's engineers was sitting on the +middle of his spinal column, a stenograph-phone in one hand and a book +in the other. Once in a while, he would say something into the +mouthpiece of the phone. Two other nuclear engineers had similar books +spread out on a desk in front of them; they were making notes and +looking up references in the Nuclear Engineers' Handbook, and making +calculations with their slide-rules. There was a huddle around the +drafting-boards, where two more such books were in use.</p> + +<p>"Well, what's happened?" he demanded, catching Pickering by the arm as +he rushed from one group to another.</p> + +<p>"Ha! We have it!" Pickering cried. "Everything we need! Look!"</p> + +<p>He had another of the books under his arm. He held it out to von +Schlichten, and von Schlichten suddenly felt sicker than he had ever +felt since, at the age of fourteen, he had gotten drunk for the first +time. He had seen men crack up under intolerable strain before, but +this was the first time he had seen a whole roomful of men blow their +tops in the same manner.</p> + +<p>The book was a novel—a jumbo-size historical novel, of some seven or +eight hundred pages. Its dust-jacket bore a slightly-more-than-bust-length +picture of a young lady with crimson hair and green eyes and jade earrings +and a plunging—not to say power-diving—neckline that left her +affiliation with the class of Mammalia in no doubt whatever. In the +background, a mushroom-topped smoke-column rose, and away from it +something intended to be a four-motor propeller-driven bomber of the First +Century was racing madly. The title, he saw, was <i>Dire Dawn</i>, and the +author was one Hildegarde Hernandez.</p> + +<p>"Well, it has a picture of an A-bomb explosion an it," he agreed.</p> + +<p>"It has more than that; it has the whole business. Case +specifications, tampers, charge design, detonating device, everything. +Why, end-papers even have diagrams: copies of the original +Nagasaki-bomb drawing. Look."</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten looked. He had no more than the average intelligent +layman's knowledge of nuclear physics—enough to recharge or repair a +conversion-unit—but the drawings looked authentic enough. They seemed +to be copies of ancient blueprints, lettered in First Century English, +with Lingua Terra translations added, and marked TOP SECRET and U. S. +ARMY CORPS OF ENGINEERS and MANHATTAN ENGINEERING DISTRICT.</p> + +<p>"And look at this!" Pickering opened at a marked page and showed it to +him. "And this!" He opened where another slip of paper had been +inserted. "Everything we want to know, practically."</p> + +<p>"I don't get this." He wasn't sick, any more; just bewildered. "I read +some reviews of this thing. All the reviewers panned hell out of +it—'World War II Through a Bedroom Keyhole'; 'Henty in Black Lace +Panties'—that sort of thing."</p> + +<p>"Yeh, yeh, sure," Pickering agreed. "But this Hernandez has illusions +of being a great serious historical novelist, see. She won't try to +write a book till she's put in years of research—actually, about six +months' research by a herd of librarians and college-juniors and other +such literary coolies—and she boasts that she never yet has been +caught in an error of historical background detail.</p> + +<p>"Well, this opus is about the old Manhattan Project. The heroine is a +sort of super-Mata-Hari, who is, alternately and sometimes +simultaneously, in the pay of the Nazis, the Soviets, the Vatican, +Chiang Kai-Shek, the Japanese Emperor, and the Jewish International +Bankers, and she has affairs with everybody from Joe Stalin to Joe +McCarthy, and of course, she is in on every step of the A-bomb +project. She even manages to stow away on the Enola Gay, with the help +of a general she's spent fifty incandescent pages seducing.</p> + +<p>"In order to tool up for this production-job, La Hernandez did her +researching just where Lourenço Gomes probably did his—University of +Montevideo Library. She even had access to the photostats of the old +U. S. data that General Lanningham brought to South America after the +debacle in the United States in A.E. 114. Those end-papers are part of +the Lanningham stuff. As far as we've been able to check +mathematically, everything is strictly authentic and practical. We'll +have to run a few more tests on the chemical-explosive charges—we +don't have any data on the exact strength of the explosives they used +then—and the tampers and detonating device will need to be tested a +little. But in about half an hour, we ought to be able to start +drawing plans for the case, and as soon as they're finished, we'll +rush them to the shipyard foundries for casting."</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten handed the book back to Pickering, and sighed deeply. +"And I thought everybody here had gone off his rocker," he said. "We +will erect, on the ruins of Keegark, a hundred-foot statue of Señorita +Hildegrade Hernandez.... How did you get onto this?"</p> + +<p>Pickering pointed to a young man with dull brick colored hair, who was +punching out some kind of a problem on a small computing machine.</p> + +<p>"Piet van Reenen, over there; he has a girl-friend whose taste runs to +this sort of literary bubble-gum. She told him it was all in a book +she'd just read, and showed him. We descended in force on the bookshop +and grabbed every copy in stock. We are now running a sort of +gaseous-diffusion process, to separate the nuclear physics from the +pornography. I must say, Hildegarde has her biological data very well +in hand, too."</p> + +<p>"I'll bet she'd have fun writing a novel about these geeks," von +Schlichten said. "Well, how soon do you think you can have a bomb made +up and all ready for us?"</p> + +<p>"Casting the cases is going to slow us down the most," Pickering said. +"But, even with that, we ought to have one ready in three days, at the +most. By two weeks, we'll be turning them out on an assembly-line."</p> + +<p>"I hope we don't need more than one. But you'd better produce at least +half a dozen. And have some practice-bombs made up, out of concrete or +anything, as long as they're the right weight and airfoil and have +some way of releasing smoke. Get them done as soon as you have your +case designed. We want to be able to make a couple of practice drops."</p> + +<p>There was no use, he thought, of raising hopes which might prove +premature. He told Paula Quinton, of course, and Themistocles +M'zangwe, and, by telecast on sealed beam, King Kankad and +Air-Commodore Hargreaves. Beyond that, there was nothing to do but +wait, and hope that Hargreaves could keep Orgzild's bombers away from +Gongonk Island and Kankad's Town and that Hildegarde Hernandez had +been playing fair with her public. He visited the city, where a few +pockets of die-hard resistance were being liquidated, and where +everybody who had not been too deeply and publicly involved in the +<i>znidd suddabit</i> conspiracy was now coming forward and claiming to +have been a lifelong friend of the Terrans and the Company. Von +Schlichten returned to Gongonk Island, debating with himself whether +to declare a general amnesty or to set up a dozen guillotines in the +city and run them around the clock for a week. There were cogent +arguments for and against either procedure.</p> + +<p>By 2100, the last organized resistance had been wiped out, a curfew +had been imposed, and peace of a sort restored. There was still the +threat from Keegark, but it was looking less ominous now than it had +the evening before. Von Schlichten and Paula were having dinner in the +Broadway Room, confident that there was nothing left to do that they +could do anything about, when the extension phone that had been +plugged in at their table rang.</p> + +<p>"Colonel Quinton here," Paula identified herself into it, and listened +for a moment. "There has? When?... Well, where did it come from?... I +see. And the direction?... Anything else?"</p> + +<p>Apparently there was nothing else. She hung up, and turned to von +Schlichten.</p> + +<p>"The <i>Sky-Spy</i> just detected a ship lifting out from Keegark, presumed +one of the Boer-class freighters, either the <i>Jan Smuts</i> or the <i>Oom +Paul Kruger</i>. It was first picked up on contragravity at about a +hundred feet, rising vertically from near the Palace. The supposition +is the geeks had her camouflaged since the time Commander Prinsloo +first bombarded Keegark with the <i>Aldebaran</i>. That was about twenty +minutes ago; at last report, she's fifty miles north of Keegark, +headed up the Hoork River."</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten started thinking aloud: "That could be a feint, to draw +our ships north after her, and leave the approach to Konkrook or +Kankad's open, but that would be presuming that they know about the +<i>Sky-Spy</i>, and I doubt that, though not enough to take chances on. +They know we have ground and ship-radar, and they may think they can +slip down the Konk Valley either undetected or mistaken for one of our +ships from North Ullr."</p> + +<p>He picked up the phone. "Get me through on telecast to Air-Commodore +Hargreaves, aboard the <i>Procyon</i>," he said. "I'll take it in the +office; I'll be up directly." He rose. "Finish your dinner, and have +the rest of mine sent up," he told Paula.</p> + +<p>Leaving the elevator, he rushed into the big headquarters room just as +contact was established with the <i>Procyon</i>, on station over the +north-western corner of Takkad Sea, between Kankad's Town and Keegark. +The Aldebaran, he knew, was west of Keegark; the <i>Northern Lights</i>, +now fitted with a pair of 155-mm guns, in addition to her 90's, had +just arrived at Kankad's. He had the <i>Aldebaran</i> sent north along the +crest of the mountain-range between the Hoork and Konk river-valleys, +where she could cover both with her own radar and other +detection-devices and exchange information with the <i>Sky-Spy</i>, and the +<i>Gaucho</i> sent in what looked like the right course to intercept the +Boer-class freighter from Keegark. The <i>Northern Lights</i>, also with +screens tuned to the <i>Sky-Spy</i>, was sent to take over the Aldebaran's +regular station. Finally, he called Skilk and had the <i>Northern Star</i> +sent south down the Hoork Valley.</p> + +<p>After that, there was nothing to do but wait, and watch the screens. +Paula Quinton put in an appearance shortly after he had finished +calling Skilk, pushing a cocktail-wagon on which their interrupted +dinners had been placed. They finished eating, and drank coffee, and +smoked. Most of the rest of his staff who were not busy on the +bomb-project or at the shipyards or with the occupation of Konkrook +drifted in; they all sat and stared from one to another of the +screens, which told, in radar-patterns and direct vision and +telescopic vision and heat and radiation detection, the story of what +was going on to the north-east of them.</p> + +<p>Keegark was dark, on the vision-screen; evidently King Orgzild had +invented the blackout, too. Not that it did him any good; the +radar-screen showed the city clearly, and it was just as clear on the +radiation and heat screens. The Keegarkan ship was completely blacked +out, but the radiations from her engines and the distinctive +radiation-pattern of her contragravity-field showed clearly, and +there was a speck that marked her position on the radar-screen. The +same position was marked with a pin-point of light on the vision +screen—some device on <i>Sky-Spy</i>, synchronized with the detectors, +kept it focused there. The Company ships and contragravity vehicles +all were carrying topside lights, visible only from above, which +flashed alternate red and blue to identify them.</p> + +<p>Time crawled slowly around the clock-face on the wall, the +sixty-five-second minutes of Ullr dragging like hours. The spots that +marked the enemy ship and her hunters crawled, too; seen from the +hundred-and-fifty-mile altitude of the <i>Sky-Spy</i>, even the +six-hundred-mile speed of the <i>Gaucho</i> was barely visible. They drank +coffee till the stuff revolted them; they smoked until their throats +and mouths were dry, they watched the screens until they thought that +they would see them in their dreams forever. Then the <i>Gaucho</i> +reported radar-contact with the Keegarkan ship, which had begun to +turn in a hairpin-shaped course and was coming south down the Konk +Valley.</p> + +<p>After that, the <i>Gaucho</i> began reporting directly, and her topside +identification-light went out.</p> + +<p>"... doused our lights; we're down in the valley, altitude about a +thousand feet. We're trying to get a glimpse of her against the sky," +a voice came in. "We're cutting in our forward TV-pick-up." The voice +repeated, several times, the wavelength, and somebody got an auxiliary +screen tuned in. There was nothing visible in it but the darkness of +the valley, the star-jeweled sky, and the loom of the East Konk +Mountains. "We still can't see her, but we ought to, any moment; radar +shows her well above the mountains. Ah, there she is; she just +obscured Beta Hydrae V; she's moving toward that big constellation to +the east of it, the one they call Finnegan's Goat. Now she'll be right +in the center of the screen; we're going straight for her. We're going +to try to slow her down till <i>Aldebaran</i> can get here...."</p> + +<p>The enemy ship was vaguely visible, now, becoming clearer in the +starlight. She was a Boer-class freighter, all right. Probably the +<i>Jan Smuts</i>; the <i>Oom Paul Kruger</i> had last been reported at Bwork, +and there was little chance that she had slipped into Keegark since +the uprising had started. For all anybody knew, she could have been +destroyed in the fighting before the Bwork Residency fell.</p> + +<p>"All right, we have her spotted; we're going to open up on her," the +voice from the <i>Gaucho</i> announced. "She has two 90's to our one; we'll +try to disable them, first." The vision-screen lit with the indirect +glare of the gun-flash, and the image in it jiggled violently as the +ship shook to the recoil, then steadied again, with the enemy ship +visible in the middle of it, growing larger and larger as the <i>Gaucho</i> +rushed toward her. The gun fired again and again, flooding the screen +with momentary yellow light and disturbing the image as the recoil +shook the gun-cutter. The enemy ship began firing in reply; the shots +were all wide misses. Apparently the geek gun-crew didn't know how to +synchronize the radar sights, and were ignorant of the correct setting +for the proximity-fuzes. The <i>Gaucho's</i> searchlights came on, bathing +her quarry in light. It was the <i>Jan Smuts</i>; the name, and the +figure-head-bust of the old soldier-philosopher, were plainly visible. +Her forward gun had been knocked out, and she was trying to swing +about to get a field of fire for her stern-gun.</p> + +<p>"We're going to give her a rocket-salvo," the voice said. "Watch this, +now!"</p> + +<p>The rockets leaped forward, from the topside racks, four and four and +four and four, at half-second intervals. The first four hit the Smuts +amidships and low, exploding with a flare that grew before it could +die away as the second four landed. Nobody ever saw the third and +fourth four land. The <i>Jan Smuts</i> vanished in a blaze of light that +blinded everybody in the room; when they could see again, after some +thirty seconds, the screen was dark.</p> + +<p>In the direct-vision screen from the <i>Sky-Spy</i>, the whole countryside +of the Konk Valley, five hundred miles north of Konkrook, was lighted. +The heat and radiation detectors were going insane. And in the +shifting confusion on the radar-screen, there was no trace either of +the <i>Jan Smuts</i> or the <i>Gaucho</i>.</p> + +<p>"Well, the geeks did have an A-bomb," Themistocles M'zangwe said, at +length. "I'd been trying to kid myself that we were just preparing +against a million-to-one chance. I wonder how many more they have."</p> + +<p>"Paula, find out who was in command of the <i>Gaucho</i>; he'd be a +junior-grade lieutenant. Fix up orders promoting him to navy captain, +as of now. It's probably the only thing we can do for him, any more. +And promotions of the same order for everybody else aboard that +cutter. Authority Carlos von Schlichten, acting Governor-General." He +picked up a phone. "Get me Commander Prinsloo, on <i>Aldebaran</i>...."</p> + +<p>He ordered Prinsloo to launch airboats and make a search; cautioned +him to be careful of radiation, but to take no chances on any of the +<i>Gaucho's</i> complement being still alive and in need of help. While +that was going on, the <i>Sky-Spy</i> reported another ship coming over her +horizon to the east, from the direction of Bwork. That would be the +<i>Oom Paul Kruger</i>. Hargreaves had already learned of the advent of the +second freighter. He was unwilling to take the <i>Procyon</i> off her +station until the <i>Aldebaran</i> returned from the Konk Valley. In this, +von Schlichten concurred.</p> + +<p>Somebody suggested that a drink would be in order. They had just +watched the all-but-certain death of three Terran officers, fifteen +Terran airmen, and ten Kragans, but they had all been living in too +close companionship with death in the past three days—or was it three +centuries—to be too deeply affected. And they had also watched, at +least for a day or so, the removal of the threat that had hung over +their heads. And they had seen proof that they had a defense against +King Orgzild's bombs.</p> + +<p>They were still mixing cocktails when Pickering phoned in.</p> + +<p>"Some good news, general, from Operation 'Hildegarde.' We ought to +have at least one bomb ready to drop by 1500 tomorrow; four or five +more by next mid-night," he said. "We don't need to have cases cast. +We got our dimensions decided, and we find that there are a lot of big +empty liquid-oxygen flasks, or tanks, rather, at the spaceport, +that'll accommodate everything—fissionables, explosive-charges, +tampers, detonator, and all."</p> + +<p>"Well, go ahead with it. Make up a few of them; as many as you can +between now and 2400 Sunday." He thought for a moment. "Don't waste +time on those practice bombs I mentioned. We'll make a practice drop +with a live bomb. And don't throw away the design for the cast case. +We may need that, later on."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>XIII</h2> + + +<p>The Company fleet hung off Keegark, at fifteen thousand feet, in a +belt of calm air just below the seesawing currents from the warming +Antarctic and the cooling deserts of the Arctic. There was the +<i>Procyon</i>, from the bridge of which von Schlichten watched the +movements of the other ships and airboats and the distant horizon. The +<i>Aldebaran</i> was ten miles off, to the west, her metal sheathing +glinting the red light of the evening sun. There was the <i>Northern +Star</i>, down from Skilk, a smaller and more distant twinkle of +reflected light to the north of <i>Aldebaran</i>. The <i>Northern Lights</i> was +off to the east, and between her and <i>Procyon</i> was a fifth ship; +turning the arm-mounted binoculars around, he could just make out, on +her bow, the figure-head bust of a man in an ancient top-hat and a +fringe of chin-beard. She was the <i>Oom Paul Kruger</i>, captured by the +<i>Procyon</i> after a chase across the mountains north-east of Keegark the +day before. And, remote from the other ships, to the south, a tiny +speck of blue-gray, almost invisible against the sky, and a smaller +twinkle of reflected sunlight—a garbage-scow, unflatteringly but +somewhat aptly rechristened <i>Hildegarde Hernandez</i>, which had been +altered as a bomb-carrier, and the gun-cutter <i>Elmoran</i>. With the +glasses, he could see a bulky cylinder being handled off the scow and +loaded onto the improvised bomb-catapult on the <i>Elmoran's</i> stern. +Shortly thereafter, the gun-cutter broke loose from the tender and +began to approach the fleet.</p> + +<p>"General, I must protest again against your doing this," Air-Commodore +Hargreaves said. "There's simply no sense in it. That bomb can be +dropped without your personal supervision aboard, sir, and you're +endangering yourself unnecessarily. That infernal-machine hasn't been +tested or anything; it might even let go on the catapult when you try +to drop it. And we simply can't afford to lose you, now."</p> + +<p>"No, what would become of us, if you go out there and blow yourself up +with that contraption?" Buhrmann supported him. "My God, I thought Don +Quixote was a Spaniard, instead of a German!"</p> + +<p>"Argentino," von Schlichten corrected. "And don't try to sell me that +Irreplaceable-Man, either. Them M'zangwe can replace me, Hid O'Leary +can replace him, Barney Mordkovitz can replace him, and so on down to +where you make a second lieutenant out of some sergeant. We've been +all over this last evening. Admitted we can't take time for a long +string of test-shots, and admitted we have to use an untested weapon; +I'm not sending men out under those circumstances and staying here on +this ship and watch them blow themselves up. If that bomb's our only +hope, it's got to be dropped right, and I'm not going to take a chance +on having it dropped by a crew who think they've been sent out on a +suicide mission. What happened to the <i>Gaucho</i> when she blew the +<i>Smuts</i> up is too fresh in everybody's mind. But if I, who ordered +the mission, accompany it, they'll know I have some confidence that +they'll come back alive."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Well, I'm coming along, too, general," Kent Pickering spoke up. "I +made the damned thing, and I ought to be along when it's dropped, on +the principle that a restaurant-proprietor ought to be seen eating his +own food once in a while."</p> + +<p>"I still don't see why we couldn't have made at least one test shot, +first," Hans Meyerstein, the Banking Cartel man, objected.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll tell you why," Paula Quinton spoke up. "There's a good +chance that the geeks don't know we have a bomb of our own. They may +believe that it was something invented on Niflheim for mining +purposes, and that we haven't realized its military application. +There's more than a good chance that the loss of the <i>Jan Smuts</i> has +temporarily demoralized them. Personally, I believe that both King +Orgzild and Prince Gorkrink were aboard her when she blew up. That's +something we'll never know, positively, of course. That ship and +everything and everybody in her were simply vaporized, and the +particles are registering on our geigers now. But I'm as sure as I am +of anything about these geeks that one or both of them accompanied +her."</p> + +<p>"Paula knows what she's talking about," King Kankad jabbered in the +Takkad Sea language which they all understood. "Just like Von saying +that he has to go on our cutter, to encourage the crew. They always +insist that their kings and generals go into battle, particularly if +something important is to be done. They think the gods get angry if +they don't."</p> + +<p>"And we have to hit them now," von Schlichten said. "They still have a +couple of bombs left. We haven't been able to locate them with +detectors, but those geeks Kankad's men caught on that commando-raid, +last night, say that there were at least three of them made. We can't +take a chance that some fanatic may load one into an aircar and make a +kamikaze-raid on Gongonk Island."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The <i>Elmoran</i> ran alongside, with her Masai-warrior figure-head and +the black cylinder on her catapult aft. Somebody had painted, on the +bomb: DIRE DAWN <i>by Hildegarde Hernandez. Compliments of the author to +H. M. King Orgzild of Keegark.</i> A canvas-entubed gangway was run out +to connect the ship with the cutter. Von Schlichten and Kent Pickering +went down the ladder from the bridge, the others accompanying them. +As he stepped into the gangway, Paula Quinton fell in behind him.</p> + +<p>"Where do you think you're going?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Along with you," she replied. "I'm your adjutant, I believe."</p> + +<p>"You definitely are not going along. Personally, I don't believe +there's any danger, but I'm not having you run any unnecessary +risks...."</p> + +<p>"Von, I don't know much about the way Terrans think, except about +fighting and about making things," Kankad told him. "And I don't know +anything at all about the kind of Terrans who have young. But I +believe this is something important to Paula. Let her go with you, +because if you go alone and don't come back I don't think she will +ever be happy again."</p> + +<p>He looked at Kankad curiously, wondering, as he had so often before, +just what went on inside that lizard-skull. Then he looked at Paula, +and, after a moment, he nodded.</p> + +<p>"All right, colonel; objection withdrawn," he said.</p> + +<p>Aboard the <i>Elmoran</i>, they gave the bomb a last-minute inspection and +checked the catapult and the bomb-sight, and then went up on the +bridge.</p> + +<p>"Ready for the bombing mission, sir?" the skipper, a Lieutenant (j.g.) +Morrison, asked.</p> + +<p>"Ready if you are, Lieutenant. Carry on; we're just passengers."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir. We'd thought of going in over the city at about five +thousand for a target-check, turning when we're half way back to the +mountains, and coming back for our bombing-run at fifteen thousand. Is +that all right, sir?"</p> + +<p>Von Schlichten nodded. "You're the skipper, lieutenant. You'd better +make sure, though, that as soon as the bomb-off signal is flashed, +your engineer hits his auxiliary rocket-propulsion button. We want to +be about fifteen miles from where that thing goes off."</p> + +<p>The lieutenant (j.g.) muttered something that sounded unmilitarily +like, "You ain't foolin', brother!"</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not," von Schlichten agreed. "I saw the <i>Jan Smuts</i> on the +TV-screen."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The <i>Elmoran</i> pointed her bow, and the long blade of the figure-head +warrior's spear, toward Keegark. The city grew out of the ground-mist, +a particolored blur at the delta of the dry Hoork River, and then a +color-splashed triangle between the river and the bay and the hills on +the landward side, and then it took shape, cross-ruled with streets +and granulated with buildings. As they came in, von Schlichten, who +had approached it from the air many times before, could distinguish +the landmarks—the site of King Orgzild's nitroglycerine plant, now a +crater surrounded by a quarter-mile radius of ruins; the Residency, +another crater since Rodolfo MacKinnon had blown it up under him; the +smashed <i>Christian De Wett</i> at the Company docks; King Orgzild's +palace, fire-stained and with a hole blown in one corner by the +<i>Aldebaran's</i> bombs.... Then they were past the city and over open +country.</p> + +<p>"I wish we had some idea where the rest of those bombs are stored, +sir," Lieutenant Morrison said. "We don't seem to have gotten anything +significant when we flew reconnaissance with the radiation detectors."</p> + +<p>"No; about all that was picked up was the main power-plant, and the +radiation-escape from there was normal," Pickering agreed. "The bombs +themselves wouldn't be detectable, except to the extent that, say, a +nuclear-conversion engine for an airboat would be. They probably have +them underground, somewhere, well shielded."</p> + +<p>"Those prisoners Kankad's commandos dragged in only knew that they +were in the city somewhere," von Schlichten considered. "How about +midway between the Palace and the Residency for our ground-zero, +lieutenant? That looks like the center of the city."</p> + +<p>The cutter turned and started back, having risen another ten thousand +feet. Morrison passed the word to the bombardier. The city, with the +sea beyond it now, came rushing at them, and von Schlichten, standing +at the front of the bridge, discovered that he had his arm around +Paula's waist and was holding her a little more closely than was +military. He made no attempt to release her, however.</p> + +<p>"There's nothing to worry about, really," he was assuring her. +"Pickering's boys built this thing according to the best principles of +engineering, and the stuff they got out of that big-economy-size +shilling-shocker all checked mathematically...."</p> + +<p>The red light on the bridge flashed, and the intercom shouted "<i>Bomb +off!</i>" He forced Paula down on the bridge deck and crouched beside +her.</p> + +<p>"Cover your eyes," he warned. "You remember what the flash was like in +the screen, when the <i>Jon Smuts</i> blew up. And we didn't get the worst +of it; the pickup on the <i>Gaucho</i> was knocked out too soon."</p> + +<p>He kept on lecturing her about gamma-rays and ultraviolet rays and +X-rays and cosmic rays, trying to keep making some sort of intelligent +sounds while they clung together and waited, and, with the other half +of his mind, trying not to think of everything that could go wrong +with that jerry-built improvisation they had just dumped onto Keegark. +If it didn't blow, and the geeks found it, they'd know that another +one would be along shortly, and....</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>An invisible hand caught the gun-cutter and hurled her end-over-end, +sending von Schlichten and Paula sprawling at full length on the deck, +still clinging to one another. There was a blast of almost palpable +sound, and a sensation of heat that penetrated even the airtight +superstructure of the <i>Elmoran</i>. An instant later, there was another, +and another, similar shock. Two more bombs had gone off behind them, +in Keegark; that meant that they had found King Orgzild's remaining +nuclear armament. There were shattering sounds of breaking glass, and +heavy thumps that told of structural damage to the cutter, and hoarse +shouts, and lurid cursing as Morrison and his airmen struggled with +the controls. The cutter began losing altitude, but she was back on a +reasonably even keel. Von Schlichten rose, helping Paula to her feet, +and found that they had been kissing one another passionately. They +were still in each other's arms when the pitching and rolling of the +cutter ceased and somebody tapped him on the shoulder.</p> + +<p>He came out of the embrace and looked around. It was Lieutenant (j.g.) +Morrison.</p> + +<p>"What the devil, lieutenant?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Sorry to interrupt, sir, but we're starting back to <i>Procyon</i>. And +here; you'll want this, I suppose." He held out a glass disc. "I never +expected to see it, but at that it took three A-bombs to blow you +loose from your monocle."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that?" Von Schlichten took his trade mark and set it in his eye. +"I didn't lose it," he lied. "I just jettisoned it. Don't you know, +lieutenant, that no gentleman ever wears a monocle while he's kissing +a lady?"</p> + +<p>He looked around. They were at about eight hundred to a thousand feet +above the water, with a stiff following wind away from the explosion +area. The 90-mm gun, forward, must have been knocked loose and carried +away; it was gone, and so was the TV-pickup and the radar. Something, +probably the gun, had slammed against the front of the bridge—the +metal skeleton was bent in, and the armor-glass had been knocked out. +The cutter was vibrating properly, so the contragravity-field had not +been disturbed, and her jets were firing.</p> + +<p>"It was the second and third bombs that did the damage, sir," Morrison +was saying. "We'd have gone through the effects of our own bomb with +nothing more than a bad shaking—of course, on contragravity, we're +weightless relative to the air-mass, but she was built to stand the +winds in the high latitudes. But the two geek bombs caught us off +balance...."</p> + +<p>"You don't need to apologize, lieutenant. You and your crew behaved +splendidly, lieutenant-commander; best traditions, and all that sort +of thing. It was a pleasure, commander; hope to be aboard with you +again, captain."</p> + +<p>They found Kent Pickering at the rear of the bridge, and joined him, +looking astern. Even von Schlichten, who had seen H-bombs and +Bethe-cycle bombs, was impressed. Keegark was completely obliterated +under an outward-rolling cloud of smoke and dust that spread out for +five miles at the bottom of the towering column.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>There had been a hundred and fifty thousand people in that city, even +if their faces were the faces of lizards and they had four arms and +quartz-speckled skins. What fraction of them were now alive, he could +not guess. He had to remind himself that they were the people who had +burned Eric Blount and Hendrik Lemoyne alive; that two of the three +bombs that had contributed to that column of boiling smoke had been +made in Keegark, by Keegarkans, and that, with a few casual factors +altered, he was seeing what would have happened to Konkrook. Perhaps +every Terran felt a superstitious dread of nuclear energy turned to +the purposes of war; small wonder, after what they had done on their +own world.</p> + +<p>For one thing, he thought grimly, the next geek who picks up the idea +of soaking a Terran in thermoconcentrate and setting fire to him will +drop it again like a hot potato. And the next geek potentate who tries +to organize an anti-Terran conspiracy, or the next crazy +caravan-driver who preaches <i>znidd suddabit</i>, will be lynched on the +spot. But this must be the last nuclear bomb used on Ullr....</p> + +<p>Drunkard's morning-after resolution! he told himself contemptuously. +The next time, it will come easier, and easier still the time after +that. After you drop the first bomb, there is no turning back, any +more than there had been after Hiroshima, four-hundred-and-fifty-odd +years ago. Why, he had even been considering just where, against the +mountains back of Bwork, he would drop a demonstration bomb as a +prelude to a surrender demand.</p> + +<p>You either went on to the inevitable catastrophe, or you realized, in +time, that nuclear armament and nationalism cannot exist together on +the same planet, and it is easier to banish a habit of thought than a +piece of knowledge. Ullr was not ready for membership in the Terran +Federation; then its people must bow to the Terran Pax. The Kragans +would help—as proconsuls, administrators, now, instead of +mercenaries. And there must be manned orbital stations, and the +Residencies must be moved outside the cities, away from possible +blast-areas. And Sid Harrington's idea of encouraging the natives to +own their contragravity-ships must be shelved, for a long time to +come. Maybe, in time....</p> + +<p>Kankad had a good idea, at that; a most meritorious idea. He was sold +on it, already, and he doubted if it would take much salesmanship with +Paula, either. Already, she was clinging to his arm with obvious +possessiveness. Maybe their grandchildren, and the Kankad of that +time, would see Ullr a civilized member of the Federation....</p> + +<p>They paused, as the gun-cutter nuzzled up to the <i>Procyon</i> and the +canvas-entubed gangway was run out and made fast, looking back at the +fearful thing that had sprouted from where Keegark had been.</p> + +<p>"You know," Paula was saying, echoing his earlier thought, "but for +the female pornographer, that would have been Konkrook."</p> + +<p>He nodded. "Yes. I hope you won't mind, but there will always be a +place in my heart for Hildegarde."</p> + +<p>Then they turned their backs upon the abomination of Keegark's +desolation and went up the gangway together, looking very little like +a general and his adjutant.</p> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Ullr Uprising, by Henry Beam Piper + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ULLR UPRISING *** + +***** This file should be named 19370-h.htm or 19370-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/3/7/19370/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Sankar Viswanathan, and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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