V
The last clatter of silverware and dishes ceased as the nativeservants finished clearing the table. There was a remaining clatter ofcups and saucers; liqueur-glasses tinkled, and an occasionalcigarette-lighter clicked. At the head table, the voices seemedlouder.
"... don't like it a millisol's worth," Brigadier-General BarneyMordkovitz, the Skilk military CO, was saying to the lady on hisright. "They're too confounded meek. Nowadays, nobody yells '_Zniddsuddabit!_' at you. They just stand and look at you like a farmerlooking at a turkey the week before Christmas, and that I don't like!"
"Oh, bosh!" Jules Keaveney, the Skilk Resident-Agent, at the head ofthe table, exclaimed. "If they don't bow and scrape to you and get offthe sidewalk to let you pass, you say they're insolent and need alesson. If they do, you say they're plotting insurrection."
"What I said," Mordkovitz repeated, "was that I expect a certainamount of disorder, and a certain minimum show of hostility toward usfrom some of these geeks, to conform to what I know to be ourunpopularity with many of them. When I don't find it, I want to knowwhy."
"I'm inclined," von Schlichten came to his subordinate's support, "toagree. This sudden absence of overt hostility is disquieting. ColonelCheng-Li," he called on the local Intelligence officer andConstabulary chief. "This fellow Rakkeed was here, about a month ago.Was there any noticeable disorder at that time? Anti-Terrandemonstrations, attacks on Company property or personnel, shooting ataircars, that sort of thing?"
"No more than usual, general. In fact, it was when Rakkeed came herethat the condition General Mordkovitz was speaking of began to becomeconspicuous."
Von Schlichten nodded. "And I might say that Lieutenant-GovernorBlount has reported from Keegark, where he is now, that the sameunnatural absence of hostility exists there."
"Well, of course, general," Keaveney said patronizingly, "King Orgzildhas things under pretty tight control at Keegark. He'd not allow a fewfanatics to do anything to prejudice these spaceport negotiations."
* * * * *
"I wonder if the idea back of that spaceport proposition isn't to getus concentrated at Keegark, where Orgzild could wipe us all out in onesurprise blow," somebody down the table suggested, and others nodded.
"Oh, Orgzild wouldn't be crazy enough to try anything like that,"Commander Dirk Prinsloo, of the _Aldebaran_, declared. "He'd get awaywith it for just twelve months--the time it would take to get the newsto Terra and for a Federation Space Navy task-force to get here. Andthen, there'd be little bits of radioactive geek floating around thissystem as far out as the orbit of Beta Hydrae VII."
"That's quite true," von Schlichten agreed. "The point is, doesOrgzild know it? I doubt if he even believes there is a Terra."
"Then where in Space does he think we come from?" Keaveney demanded.
"I believe he thinks Niflheim is our home world," von Schlichtenreplied. "Or, rather, the string of orbiters and artificial satellitesaround Niflheim. Where he thinks Niflheim is, I wouldn't even try toguess."
"Yes. After he'd wiped us out, he might even consider the idea of aninvasion of Niflheim with captured contragravity ships," HideyoshiO'Leary chuckled. "That would be a big laugh--if any of us were alive,then, to do any laughing."
"You don't really believe that, general?" Keaveney asked. His tone wasstill derisive, but under the derision was uncertainty. After all,von Schlichten had been on Ullr for fifteen years, to his two.
"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 Schlichtenfinished his brandy and got out cigarette-case and lighter. "I have anidea of the sort of garbled reports these spies of his who spend ayear on Niflheim as laborers bring back."
* * * * *
"You know the line Rakkeed's been taking, of course," Colonel Cheng-Liput in. "He as much as says that Niflheim's our home, and that thefarms where we raise food, here, and those evergreen plantings on KonkIsthmus and between here and Grank are the beginning of an attempt todrive all native life from this planet and make it over forourselves."
"And that savage didn't think an idea like that up for himself; he gotit from somebody like Orgzild," the black-bearded brigadier-generaladded. "You know, the main base off Niflheim is practicallyself-supporting, with hyproponic-gardens and animal-tissue culturevats. And it's enough bigger than one of the _City_ ships to pass fora little world. Yes; somebody like Orgzild, or King Firkked, here,could easily pick up the idea that that's our home planet."
"The Company ought to let us stockpile nuclear weapons here, just tobe on the safe side," another officer, farther down the table, said.
"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 inamong the convicts to carry firearms. If somebody like Orgzild gothold of a nuclear bomb, even a little old First-Century H-bomb, hecould use it for a model and construct a hundred like it, with all theplutonium we've been handing out for power reactors. And there are toofew of us, and we're concentrated in too few places, to last long ifthat happened. What this planet needs, though, is a visit by afifty-odd-ship task-force of the Space Navy, just to show the geekswhat we have back of us. After a show like that, there'd be a lot less_znidd suddabit_ around here."
"General, I deplore that sort of talk," Keaveney said. "I hear toomuch of this mailed-fist-and-rattling-sabre stuff from some of thejunior officers here, without your giving countenance andencouragement to it. We're here to earn dividends for thestockholders of the Ullr Company, and we can only do that by gainingthe friendship, respect and confidence of the natives...."
* * * * *
"Mr. Keaveney," Paula Quinton spoke. "I doubt if even you wouldseriously accuse the Extraterrestrials Rights Association of favoringwhat you call a mailed fist and rattling sabre policy. We've doneeverything in our power to help these people, and if anybody shouldhave their friendship, we should. Well, only five days ago, inKonkrook, Mr. Mohammed Ferriera and I were attacked by a mob, ournative aircar driver was murdered, and if it hadn't been for Generalvon Schlichten and his soldiers, we'd have lost our own lives. Mr.Ferriera is still hospitalized as a result of injuries he received. Itseems that General von Schlichten and his Kragans aren't trying to getfriendship and confidence; they're willing to settle for respect, inthe only way they can get it--by hitting harder and quicker than thenatives can."
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 towinking at Paula. Good girl, he thought; she's started playing on theArmy team, and about time!
"Well, of course...." Keaveney began. Then he stopped, as a Terransergeant came up to the table and bent over Barney Mordkovitz'shoulder, whispering urgently. The black-bearded brigadier roseimmediately, taking his belt from the back of his chair and putting iton. Motioning the sergeant to accompany, he spoke briefly to Keaveneyand then came around the table to where von Schlichten sat, theResident-Agent accompanying him.
"Message just came in from Konkrook, general," he said softly."Governor Harrington's dead."
It took von Schlichten all of a second to grasp what had been said."Good God! When? How?"
"Here's all we know, sir," the sergeant said, giving him a radioprintslip. "Came in ten minutes ago."
It was an all-station priority telecast. Governor-General Harringtonhad died suddenly, in his room, at 2210; there were no details. Heglanced at his watch; it was 2243. Konkrook and Skilk were in the sametime-zone; that was fast work. He handed the slip to Mordkovitz, whogave it to Keaveney.
"You from the telecast station, sergeant?" he asked. "All right, inthat case, let's go."
As he hurried from the banquet-room, he could hear Keaveney tapping onhis wine-glass.
"Everybody, please! Let me have your attention! There has just come ina piece of the most tragic news...."
*
* * * *
A woman captain met him just inside the door of the big soundproofedroom of the telecast station, next to the Administration Building.
"We have a wavelength open to Konkrook, general," she said. "In booththree."
Another girl, a tech-sergeant, was in the booth; on the screen was theimage of a third young woman, a lieutenant, at Konkrook station. Thesergeant rose and started to leave the booth.
"Stick around, sergeant," von Schlichten told her. "I'll want you totake over when I'm through." He sat down in front of the combinationvisiscreen and pickup. "Now, lieutenant; just what happened?" heasked. "How did he die?"
"We think it was poison, general. General M'zangwe has ordered autopsyand chemical analysis. If you can wait about ten minutes, he'll beable to talk to you, himself."
"Call him. In the meantime, give me everything you know."
"Well, at about 2210, the Kragan guard-sergeant on that floor heardten pistol-shots, as fast as they could be fired semi-auto, in thegovernor's room. The door was locked, but he shot it off with his ownpistol and went in. He found Governor Harrington on the floor, wearingonly his gown, holding an empty pistol. He was in convulsions,frothing at the mouth, in horrible pain. Evidently he'd fired hispistol, which he kept on his desk, to call help; all the bullets hadgone 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, andbroken off in the middle of a word. There was a bottle and anoverturned glass on his desk. The Constabulary got there a few minuteslater, and then Brigadier-General M'zangwe took charge. A white rat,given fifteen drops from the whiskey-bottle, died with the samesymptoms in about ninety seconds."
"Who had access to the whiskey-bottle?"
"A geek servant, who takes care of the room. He was caught, an hourearlier, trying to slip off the island without a pass; they wereholding him at the guardhouse when Governor Harrington died. He's nowbeing questioned by the Kragans." The girl's face was bleaklyremorseless. "I hope they do plenty to him!"
"I hope they don't kill him before he talks."
* * * * *
"Wait a moment, general; we have General M'zangwe, now," the girlsaid. "I'll switch you over."
The screen broke into a kaleidoscopic jumble of color, then cleared;the chocolate-brown face of M'zangwe was looking out of it.
"I heard what happened, how they found him, and about that geekchamber-valet being arrested," von Schlichten said. "Did you getanything out of him?"
"He's admitted putting poison in the bottle, but he claims it was hisown idea. But he's one of Father Keeluk's parishioners, so...."
"Keeluk! God damn, so that was it!" von Schlichten almost shouted."Now I know what he wanted with Stalin, and that goat, and thoserabbits! Of course they'd need terrestrial animals, to find out whatwould poison a Terran! Who's in charge at Konkrook now?"
"Not much of anybody. Laviola, the Fiscal Secretary, and HansMeyerstein, the Banking Cartel's lawyer, and Howlett, the PersonnelChief, and Buhrmann, the Commercial Secretary, have made up a sort ofquadrumvirate and are trying to run things. I don't know what wouldhappen if anything came up suddenly...." A blue-gray uniformed arm,with a major's cuff-braid, came into the screen, handing a slip ofpaper to M'zangwe; he took it, glanced at it, and swore. VonSchlichten waited until he had read it through.
"Well, something has, all right," the African said. "Just got a callfrom Jaikark's palace--a revolt's broken out, presumably headed byGurgurk; Household Guards either mutinied or wiped out by themutineers, 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. Thenative-lieutenant in charge of the Kragans just radioed in; says thesituation is desperate."
"When a Kragan says that, he means damn near hopeless. Is this beingrecorded?" When M'zangwe nodded, he continued. "All right. Use therecording for your authority and take charge. I'm declaring martialrule 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 atKeegark. I'm leaving for Konkrook at once! I ought to get in by 0800.
"Now, as to the trouble at the Palace. Don't commit more than onecompany of Kragans and ten airjeeps and four combat-cars, and tellthem to evacuate Jaikark and his followers and our Kragans to GongonkIsland. And alert your whole force. These geek palace revolutions arealways synchronized with street-rioting, and this thing seems to havebeen synchronized with Sid Harrington's death, too. Get our Kragansout if you can't save anybody else from the Palace, but sacrificingthirty or forty men to save twenty is no kind of business. And keepsending 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 comingin."
* * * * *
He rose and left the booth. If we can pull Jaikark's bacon off thefire, he was thinking, the Company can dictate its own terms to himafterward; 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 steptoward getting rid of all these geek despots. And with Eric Blount asGovernor-General....
The inner door of the soundproofed telecast-room burst open, three menhurried inside, and it slammed shut behind them. In the briefinterval, there had been firing audible from outside. One of the menhad a pistol in his right hand, and with his left arm he supported acompanion, whose shoulder was mangled and dripped blood. The third manhad a burp-gun in his hands. All were in civilian dress--shorts andlight jackets. The man with the pistol holstered it and helped hisinjured companion into a chair. The burp-gunner advanced into theroom, looked around, saw von Schlichten, and addressed him.
"General! The geeks turned on us!" he cried. "The Tenth North Ullr'smutinied; they're running wild all over the place. They've taken theirbarracks and supply-buildings, and the lorry-hangars and themaintenance-yard; they're headed this way in a mob. Some of the ZirkCavalry's joined them."
"Have any ammo left for that burp-gun? Come on, then; let's see whatit'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."
He opened the door, and the rattle of shots outside became audibleagain. The civilian with the burp-gun knew better than to let ageneral go out first; elbowing von Schlichten out of the way, hecrouched over his weapon and dashed outside. Drawing his pistol, vonSchlichten followed, pulling the door shut after him.
* * * * *
Darkness had fallen, while he had been inside; now the whole CompanyReservation was ablaze with electric lights. Somebody at thepower-plant had thrown on the emergency lights. There was a confusedmass of gray-skinned figures in front of Company House, reflectedlight twinkling on steel over them; from the direction of thenative-troops barracks more natives were coming on the run. On theroof of a building across the street, two machine-guns were alreadyfiring into the mob. From up the street, a hundred-odd saurian-facednative soldiers were coming at the double, bayonets fixed and riflesat high port; with them ran-several Terrans. Motioning his companionto follow, von Schlichten ran to meet them, falling in beside a Terrancaptain who ran in front.
"What's the score, captain?" he asked the panting captain.
"Tenth North Ullr and the Fifth Cavalry have mutinied; so have theserag-tag Auxiliaries. That mob down there's part of them." He waspuffing under the double effort of running and talking. "Whole thingblew up in seconds; no chance to communicate with anybody...."
A Terran woman, in black slacks and an orange sweater, ran across thestreet in front of them, pursued by a group of enlisted "men" of theTenth North Ullr Native Infantry, all shrieking "_Znidd suddabit!_"The fugitive ran into a doorway across the street; before her pursuerswere aware of their danger, the Kragans had
swept over them. There wasno shooting; the slim, cruel-bladed bayonets did the work. From behindhim, as he ran, von Schlichten could hear Kragan voices in a new cry:"_Znidd geek! Znidd geek!_"
The mob were swarming up onto the steps and into the semi-rotunda ofthe storm-porch. There was shooting, which told him that some of thehumans who had been at the banquet were still alive. He wondered,half-sick, how many, and whether they could hold out till he couldclear the doorway, and, most of all, he found himself thinking ofPaula Quinton. Skidding to a stop within fifty yards of the mob, heflung out his arms crucifix-wise to halt the Kragans. Behind, he couldhear the Terrans and native-officers shouting commands to form front.
"Give them one clip, reload, and then give them the bayonet!" heordered. "Shove them off the steps and then clear the porch!"
The hundred rifles let go all at once; and for five seconds theypoured a deafening two thousand rounds into the mutineers. There wassome 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 hithim, and half a dozen Kragans went down.
"Reload! Set your safeties!" von Schlichten bellowed. "Charge!"
* * * * *
Under human officers, the North Ullr Native Infantry would have stoodfirm. Even under their native-officers and sergeants, they should nothave broken as they did, but the best of these had paid for theirloyalty to the Company with their lives. At that, the Skilkanpeasantry who made up the Tenth Infantry, and the Zirk cavalrymen,tried briefly to fight as individuals, shrieking "_Znidd suddabit!_"until the Kragans were upon them, stabbing and shooting. They drovethe rioters from the steps or killed them there, they wiped out thosewho had gotten into the semicircle of the storm-porch. The insidedoors, von Schlichten saw, were open, but beyond them were Terrans anda dozen or so Kragans. Hideyoshi O'Leary and Barney Mordkovitz seemedto be in command of these.
"We had about thirty seconds' warning," Mordkovitz reported, "and theKragans in the hall bought us another sixty seconds. Of course, we allhad our pistols...."
"Hey! These storm-doors are wedged!" somebody discovered. "Thosegoddam geek servants ...!"
"Yeah; kill any of them you catch," somebody else advised. "If wecould have gotten these doors closed...."
The mob, driven from the steps, was trying to re-form and renew theattack. From up the street, the machine-guns, silent during thebayonet-fight, began hammering again. The mob surged forward to getout of their fire, and were met by a rifle-blast and a hedge ofbayonets at the steps; they surged back, and the machine-guns flailedthem again. They started to rush the building from whence theautomatic-fire came, and there was a fusilade and a shriek of "_Zniddgeek!_" from up the street. They turned and fled in the direction fromwhence they had come, bullets scourging them from three directions atonce.
For a moment, von Schlichten and the three Terrans and eighty-oddKragans who had survived the fight stood on the steps, weapons poised,seeking more enemies. The machine-guns up the street stuttered a fewshort bursts and were silent. From behind, the beleaguered Terrans andtheir Kragan guards were emerging. He saw Jules Keaveney and his wife;Commander Prinsloo of the _Aldebaran_; Harry Quong and Bogdanoff. Ah,there she was! He heaved a breath of relief and waved to her.
The Kragans were already setting about their after-battle chores. Acouple of hundred more Kragans, led by Native-Major Kormork, theco-parent of young with King Kankad, came up at the double and stoppedin front of Company House.
* * * * *
"We were in quarters, aboard the _Aldebaran_ and in the guest-house atthe airport," Kormork reported. "We were attacked, fifteen minutesago, by a mob. We took ten minutes beating them off, and five moregetting here. I sent Native-Captain Zeerjeek and the rest of the forceto re-take the supply-depot and the shops and lorry hangars, which hadbeen taken, and relieve the military airport, which is under attack."
"Good enough. I hope you didn't spread yourself out too thin. What'sthe situation at the commercial airport?"
"The two ships, the _Aldebaran_ and the freighter _Northern Star_, areboth safe," Kormork replied. "I saw them go on contragravity and riseto about a hundred feet."
"Whose crowd is that you have?" he asked the Terran lieutenant who hadtaken over command of the first force of Kragans.
"Company 6, Eighteenth Rifles, sir. We were on duty at the guardhouse;fighting broke out in the direction of the native barracks. A coupleof runners from Captain Retief of Company 4 came in with word that hewas being attacked by mutineers from the Tenth N.U.N.I., but that hewas holding them back. So Captain Charbonneau, who was killed a fewminutes ago, left a Terran lieutenant and a Kragan native-lieutenantand a couple of native-sergeants and thirty Kragans to hold theguardhouse, and brought the rest of us here."
Von Schlichten nodded. "You'd pass the military airport and thepower-plant, wouldn't you?" he asked.
"Yes, sir. The military airport's holding out, and I saw thered-and-yellow danger-lights on the fence around the power-plant."
That meant the power-plant was, for the time, safe; somebody'd turnedtwenty thousand volts into the fence.
"All right. I'm setting up my command post at the telecast station,where the communication equipment is." He turned to the crowd that hadcome out onto the porch from inside. "Where's Colonel Cheng-Li?"
"Here, general." The Intelligence and Constabulary officer pushedthrough the crowd. "I was on the phone, talking to the militaryairport, the commercial airport, ordnance depot, spaceport, ship-docksand power plant. All answer. I'm afraid Pop Goode, at the citypower-plant, is done for; nobody answers there, but the TV-pickup isstill on in the load-dispatcher's room, and the place is full ofgeeks. Colonel Jarman's coming here with a lorry to get combat-carcrews; he's short-handed. Port-Captain Leavitt has all the nativelabor at the airport and spaceport herded into a repair dock; he'skeeping them covered with the forward 90-mm. gun of the _NorthernStar_. Lorry-hangars, repair-shops and maintenance-yards don'tanswer."
"That's what I was going to ask you. Good enough. Harry Quong, HassanBogdanoff!"
His command-car crew front-and-centered.
"I want you to take Colonel O'Leary up, as soon as my car's broughthere.... Hid, you go up and see what's going on. Drop flares wherethere isn't any light. And take a look at the native-labor camp andthe equipment-park, south of the reservation.... Kormork, you take allyour gang, and half these soldiers from the Eighteenth, here, and helpclear the native-troops barracks. And don't bother taking anyprisoners; we can't spare personnel to guard them."
Kormork grinned. The taking of prisoners had always been one of thoseirrational Terran customs which no Ullran regarded with favor, or evencomprehension.