Chapter 12
Bors got nowhere, of course. His proposal had all the ear-marks oflunacy of purest ray serene. He proposed urgently to equip all the shipsof the fleet with the low-power overdrive fields. It could be done indays. Instructions were already distributed and would have been studiedand understood. The fleet would then go to Kandar--if it appeared thatthe Mekinese grand fleet would go there--and set up a dummy fleet oftarget-globes in war array. This would be a fleet, but not of fightingships. It would be a fleet of metal-foil inflated balloons.
One actual fighting ship, he stipulated, would form part of thisillusory space-navy. He volunteered the _Horus_ for it. That ship wouldsignal to the Mekinese when they arrived. It would make the king'sproposal to surrender, on the Mekinese promise to spare the civilianpopulation of Kandar. If the enemy admiral agreed to these terms and theking believed him, then the true Kandarian fleet could appear and yieldto its overwhelmingly-powerful enemy. If the admiral arrogantly refusedto pledge safety to Kandar's population, then the dummy formation mightbe destroyed, but the fleet would fight. Hopelessly anduselessly--though the new low-power drive worked well in action--but itwould fight.
The First Admiral said stonily, "If I were in the position of theMekinese admiral, and I agreed to terms of capitulation, and if it werethen shown to me that the basis of the terms was a deceit, I would notfeel bound by my promise. When the actual fleet appeared, I would blastit for questioning my honor."
Bors looked at him with hot eyes. The king said drearily, "No, Bors. Wemust act in good faith. We cannot question the Mekinese good faith asyou propose, and then expect them to believe in ours. The admiral isright. We can fight and bring destruction on our people, or we can placeourselves at the mercy of Mekin. There can be only one choice. Wesacrifice ourselves, but we keep our honor."
"I deny," said Bors savagely, "that any man keeps his honor who enslaveshis fellows, as you will do in surrendering. I resign my commission inyour service, Majesty."
King Humphrey nodded wearily.
"Very well. You have served us admirably, Bors. I wish I thought youwere right in this matter. I would rather follow your advice than myconvictions. Your resignation is accepted."
An hour later, fuming, Bors paced back and forth across the floor of acabin in the flagship. The Pretender of Tralee entered. The older manlooked wryly amused.
"It was a most improper thing to do. You resigned your commission andthen ordered the low-power fields built on all ships."
"To the contrary," said Bors, "I spread the news that I had resigned mycommission _because_ the low-power fields were _not_ to be installed togive us a fighting chance!"
The Pretender sat down and regarded his nephew quizzically.
"But is it so important? To use tables of calculations instead ofcomputers?"
"Yes," said Bors. "It is important. I should know. I've used thelow-power fields in combat. Nobody else has."
The old man said without reproof, "The First Admiral is indignant. Thefields were not ordered on the ground that they're an untested deviceand that at least once such a field blew out, leaving your ship, the_Isis_, so helpless that it had to be abandoned."
"True," agreed Bors. He made no defense. The attitude of the FirstAdmiral would have been perfectly logical in ordinary times. Anythinglike the new intermediate, low-power overdrive field should have beenproposed through channels, examined by a duly-appointed commission ofofficers, reported on, the report evaluated, and then painstaking andlengthy tests made and the report on the tests evaluated. Then it shouldhave been submitted to another commission of officers of higher rank,who would estimate the kind and amount of modification of standardequipment the new device required, its susceptibility to accident and/orobsolescence, the ease of repair, the cost of installation and thelength of time in-port required to install it. Somewhere along the linethere should also have been a report on the ease with which it could beintegrated into other apparatus and standard operational procedures, andthere should have been reports on its possible tactical value, theprobable number of times it would be useful, the degree of its utilityand whether the excessive discomfort of going into and out of overdriveat extremely short intervals would have an adverse effect on crewmorale. Under normal circumstances a ship might have been equipped, fortesting purposes, in six to ten years, and in ten years more all newships might be equipped. But it would be well over a generation beforeits use was general.
The older man said, "Since your resignation's been accepted, you'll beput on the _Sylva_ when it comes back. You won't be taken to Kandar withthe fleet."
Bors's hands clenched.
"They'll say I resigned to stay out of the fight!"
"No," said his uncle mildly. "They'll say you resigned to avoidsurrender. I'm being evicted with you. I'm to be dumped on thehospitality of your friend, Morgan, too. Humphrey is a very kindly man.Abominably so. But I am tired of being an exile. I'd really rather staywith the fleet. But he stands on his dignity to preserve our lives. I'mnot sure what for, in a universe where such things as Mekin can happen."
"They happen," growled Bors, "because we value peace and quiet as muchas the Mekinese do power, and much less than freedom. We compromise."
He paced up and down.
"Up to now," he said harshly, "every effort made against Mekin has beendefensive. Twenty-two worlds, in turn, have fallen because they onlywanted to _stop_ Mekin. It's time for some world to resolve very solidlyto _smash_ Mekin, to act with honest anger against a thing that shouldbe hated. It's got to be done!"
"The time for such a resolution," said his uncle, gently, "went by longago."
There was sudden voice from the compartment speaker.
"_Co-o-o-ntact!_"
There was the hissing sound of doors closing. The peculiarly-muffledsilence of a closed compartment fell. The Pretender said quietly, "Ifthis is the Mekinese fleet, everything is solved. But your friends ofTalents, Incorporated will have to be wrong. They insist the grand fleetwill not come here."
Bors rasped, "I wish I were in that control room! But at least we've gotmissiles they can't intercept!"
"Except that they won't be fired, they're a great improvement," thePretender said mildly.
He sat at ease. Time passed. Presently the tiny compartmentair-refresher hummed, bringing down the CO{2} content of the air. It cutoff. Bors paced up and down, up and down. He pictured what might behappening outside. It could be that the grand fleet of Mekin hadappeared and now drove proudly toward Glamis. It could be that the fleetwas offering surrender. There would be near-mutiny on many of its ships.There would be monumental frustration. Junior officers, in particular,would have examined the low-power overdrive tables, and would havestudied longingly the reports of Bors's use of low-power overdriveagainst an enemy squadron off Meriden. They would yearn passionately tohave their ships equipped with apparatus by which it could vanish from aplace where it was a target to reappear elsewhere, unharmed, and makethe enemy its target. Two fleets equipped with the new device mightcheckmate each other. But one fleet....
The speaker said curtly:
"_Captain Bors, a single ship has broken out of overdrive. Itidentifies itself as the ship_ Liberty, _of Cela. It declares that ithas come to place itself under your command._"
Bors stared. He had forgotten about the two Cela-built ships which theDeccan rebels told him about--the first of which had gone on a trial runwith a Mekinese crew and failed to return, and the second of which, witha Celan crew, had gone off to look for Bors and his marauders.
Somehow, it had found him. It seemed totally improbable. Bors instantlythought of Talents, Incorporated. The Talents on the ship had spreadrebellion on worlds unthinkable distances apart. It was conceivable thatin some way they'd brought this ship to Glamis.
"Very well," said Bors coldly, in the cabin to which he was confined. "Irequest to be put on board."
"I'll come with you," said his uncle. He smiled at Bors, who noted, butwas not surprised at, the genuineness o
f the smile. "This is the shipyou mentioned as hoping to emulate the _Horus_. I don't think you'llsurrender it. But I've surrendered once and I don't like it. I'd rathernot do it again."
Compartment-doors went back to normal, as combat-alert went off. Morganappeared, agitated and upset.
"What's this?" he demanded. "What's happened?"
Bors told him curtly as much as he knew, all that he'd been told onDeccan. It was the only ship technically in actual rebellion againstMekin. It had heard rumors of Bors, and it wanted his leadership.
"But you can't go now!" insisted Morgan. "You've got to wait until the_Sylva_ gets back! You have to have Talents, Incorporated information toact on! You need my Talents!"
"I'm going to get moving as fast as I can," said Bors. "I don't think wecan wait. If the _Liberty's_ what I think, and her crew what I believe,they'll crave action."
There was a space-boat at the flagship's lock. Bors and his uncleentered. Those already in the boat were young men in the nondescriptclothing of ship-workers. They grinned proudly at Bors when he took hisseat.
"I don't know whether you know, sir," said the young man at thespace-boat's controls, "but we heard about your revolt, sir, and we wereabout at the limit so we--"
"I stopped at Deccan," Bors said briefly. "They told me about you. Doyou want action against Mekin?"
"Yes, sir!" It was a chorus.
"You'll get it," said Bors. "I'll try you out on a concentration ofMekin ships that should be turning up at Kandar. How are you equippedfor repairs and changes?"
"We left Cela for a test trip, sir," said the young man at the controls.There were grins behind him. He chuckled. "Naturally we had materials torepair anything that went wrong on a trial run!"
"I've got some new settings for missiles," said Bors, "which make themhard to dodge. And we'll want to set up a special overdrive control,which makes it easy to dodge Mekinese ones. We can attend to it on theway to Kandar. How many aboard?"
He asked other curt questions. They answered. What Bors asked was what acommanding officer would need to know about a new ship, and his newfollowers realized it. They had been exultant and triumphant when heentered the space-boat. In the brief time needed to get to the _Liberty_they became ardently confident.
His reception was undisciplined but enthusiastic. He made a hurriedinspection. The _Liberty_ had started out with a skeleton crew ofshipyard workers and no stores or arms. The ranks were now filled withvolunteers from Deccan and elsewhere, and its storage-rooms fairlybulged with foodstuffs. Bors, however, really relaxed only once. Thatwas when he saw the filled racks of missiles. On Deccan they'd beenlavish in their gifts to the rebel space-ship.
Bors went into the control room, glanced about, and spoke crisply intothe all-speaker microphone.
"All hands attention! Bors speaking. A concentration of Mekinese shipsis expected at Kandar. We shall head for that planet immediately. On theway I shall arrange for some changes in the settings of the missiles wehave on board. We will fix and distribute aiming-tables for their use.We will stop twice on the way for target practice. Much more than yourlives or mine depends on how well you do your work. We'll also modifythe overdrive to make this ship able to do everything my other shipsdid--and more. You will work much harder on the way to Kandar than youever worked before, but we have to accomplish more than usual. That'sall."
He stood by while the ship was aimed for Kandar. The young astrogatorsaid enthusiastically, "Prepare for overdrive. Five, four, three--"
A voice out of a speaker:
"_Calling_ Liberty! _Calling_ Liberty! _Morgan calling_ Liberty!"
"Hold it," said Bors.
He answered the call. Morgan's voice, in a high state of agitation,"_Bors! The_ Sylva's _just back! Just broke out! The grand fleet willget to Kandar in five days, four hours, twenty minutes! My Talent onthe_ Sylva _is sure of it. It's Talents, Incorporated information!_"
"We haven't any time to spare, then," said Bors.
"_Bors!_" panted Morgan's voice. "_There were three ships of our fleethanging about, on watch for Mekinese. They expected one. Twelve came.The observation-ships attacked. They got eleven of the twelve. The lastone went into overdrive and got away! Bors! Do you see what thatmeans?_"
"It means," said Bors coldly, "that Mekin won't be accepting surrendersthis week. Destroying the first division was bad enough. I got one offMeriden. Now that a third squadron's wiped out, Mekin will insist onsomebody getting punished--and plenty! All right! We're leaving forKandar now."
He nodded to the young man at the control board. He noted with approvalthat he'd kept the _Liberty's_ aim exact while Bors talked to Morgan.
"Proceed," Bors ordered.
The young man said, "Five, four, three, two, one--"
There was the familiar dizzying sensation of going into overdrive. The_Liberty_ wrapped stressed space about itself and went hurtling intoinvisibility.
This was one voyage in overdrive which was not tedious. Bors had toorganize the ship for combat. He had to train launching-crews to worklike high-speed machinery. He had to teach the setting of missiles forranges he had to show how to measure. Once he stopped the ship betweenstars and all the launching-crews took shots at an inflated metal-foiltarget. The Pretender of Tralee displayed an unexpected gift fororganization. He divided all space outside the ship into sectors,assigning one launcher to each sector. If an order to fire came, theseparate crews would cover targets in their own areas first. There wouldbe no waste of missiles on one target.
The Pretender would have made an excellent officer. He was patient withthose who did not understand immediately. He had dignity that was notarrogance. In five days the _Liberty_ was a fighting ship and adedicated one. There were rough edges, of course. Man for man and weaponfor weapon the ship would not compare with a longer-trained and moreexperienced fighting instrument. But the morale on board was superb andthe weapons were--to put it mildly--inspiring of hope.
The _Liberty_ broke out of overdrive and the sun of Kandar shone fieryyellow in emptiness. The gas-giant planet had moved in its orbit. It wasmore evenly in line than before with a direct arrival-path for a fleetfrom Mekin. Bors was worn out from his unremitting efforts to turn theship into a smooth-running unit. He looked at a ship's clock.
"The Mekinese," he said over the all-speaker circuit, "will break out intwo hours, forty minutes. And we're going to set up a dummy fleet forthem to deal with."
His uncle said gently, "I suggest some rest, to be fresh for thehandling of the ship. I'll set up the dummy fleet."
Bors resisted the idea, but it was not sensible to humor his own vanityby insisting on his indispensability. He flung himself down on a bunk.He was much better satisfied with the ship and crew than he would haveadmitted. And he was dead-tired.
Around him, young men of Cela and Deccan prepared target-globes forlaunching. The Pretender gently pointed out that the formation was toremain perfectly still and in ranks. Therefore, each globe had to belaunched with no velocity at all, so it would remain in fixed positionwith relation to the others, to convincingly appear to be a fleet ofships.
Far away the _Sylva_ hurtled through space with a much-agitated Morganon board. Gwenlyn, too, was frightened. For the first time, both of themseemed doubtful of the value of Talents, Incorporated information.
Again, far away, the fleet of Kandar rushed through emptiness. On itsvarious ships, junior officers had come threateningly close to mutiny.There was now a sullen, resigned submission to discipline and whatorders might be given, but the fleet was fighting angry. The _Sylva_ hadbrought back news of a third defeat of Mekinese by Kandar ships and hotblood longed to make a full-scale test of its own deadliness. There werefew ships of the fleet which did not have a low-power overdrive fieldunit ready to be spliced into circuit if the occasion arose. If the kingcould not make acceptable terms for surrender, the junior officers wereprepared to make a victory by Mekin a very costly matter.
Stretched out on his bunk, Bors thought of all these things
. Finally heslept--and--dreamed. It was odd that anyone so weary should dream. Itwas more strange that he did not dream of the matters in the forefrontof his mind. He dreamed of Gwenlyn. She was crying, in the dream, and itwas because she thought he was killed. And Bors was astonished at hergrief, and then unbelievably elated. And he moved toward her and sheraised her head at some sound he made. The expression of incredulous joyon her face made him put his arms around her with an enormous andunbelieving satisfaction. And he kissed her and the sensation wasremarkable.
Half-awake, he blinked at the ceiling of the control room of the_Liberty_. His uncle was saying amiably to the young man at thecontrol-board, "That's a very pretty fleet-formation, if we do say soourselves!"
Bors stood up, one-half of his mind still startled by his dream, but theother half reverting instantly to business.
But all matters of business had been attended to. Out the viewports hecould see the dummy fleet in an apparently defensive formation. Itsships were only miles apart, and if they had been fighting ships, everyone could have launched missiles at any point of attack from the patternthey constituted. At a hundred miles they could be seen only as specksof reflected sunlight. At greater distances a radar would identify themonly as dots which must be enemy ships because the radar-blips they madelacked the nimbus of friendly craft.
"Hm," said Bors. He looked at the clock. "The Mekinese should havebroken out five minutes ago."
"They did," said his uncle. "They're yonder. They're heading straightfor this fleet."
He pointed, not out a port but at a screen where a boiling mass ofbright specks showed the Mekinese fleet just out of overdrive andspeeding toward the dummy formation, sorting itself into attackformation as it moved.
"The king's not here on time," observed Bors grimly. "We have to playhis hand for him, Uncle. We haven't the right to commit Kandar bybeginning to fight ourselves. Offer surrender, as he'd wish it to bedone. If they accept, he can carry out his part when he arrives. He'llbe here!"
The former monarch spoke gently into a beam transmitter.
"Calling Mekinese fleet," he said. "Defending fleet calling Mekinesefleet!"
In seconds a reply came back.
"_Mekinese Grand Admiral calling Kandar_," the voice answeredarrogantly. "_What do you want?_"
"We will discuss capitulation on behalf of Kandar," said the old man."Will you give us terms?"
He grimaced, and said, aside, to Bors, "I'm speaking for Humphrey as Iknow he'd speak. But I am ashamed!"
There was a pause. It took time for the Pretender's voice to reach theenemy and as long for the reply to come back. The reply was ironic andarrogant and amused.
"_What terms can you hope for?_" it demanded. "_You attacked our ships.You indulged in destruction! How can you hope for terms?_"
The Pretender scratched his ear thoughtfully. He regarded the radarscreen with regret.
"We ask life for the people of our planet," he said steadily. He wasannoyed that he had to speak for the tardy King of Kandar. "We ask thatthey not be punished for our resistance."
The young men in the control room looked astonished. Then they sawBors's expression, and grinned.
A long pause. The boiling, shifting specks on the radar-screen began tohave a definite order. The Mekinese voice, when it came, was triumphantand overbearing.
"_We will spare your planet_," it said contemptuously, "_but not you.You have dared to fight us. Stand and be destroyed, and there will be nopunishment for your world. There are no other terms._"
The Pretender looked at Bors. He shrugged.
"_Now_ what would the king do?" He looked puzzled.
"What can our dummy fleet do?" asked Bors.
The Pretender nodded. "We will offer no resistance," he said into thetransmitter.
There was a long silence. Bors looked at the radar-screen. The mass ofbright specks at the edge of the screen seemed to have sent a shiningwave before it. It was actually a swarm of missiles. They were so faraway that they could not be picked up as individuals on the screen. Theywere a glow, a shine, a wave of pale luminosity.
"We shift to low-power overdrive readiness," said Bors. "That is anorder."
A ship-voice murmured, "_Low-power overdrive in circuit, sir._"
He watched the screen. The Mekinese missiles accelerated at a terrificrate. They left their parent ships far behind. They were a third of theway to the drone-fleet and the _Liberty_ before Bors spoke again.
"Launch and inflate another target-globe," he ordered drily. "We couldspeak for the king since he was late. But we won't stay here to bekilled as his proxy! Not without fighting first!"
A voice, crisp: "_Target globe launched, sir._"
"Low-power overdrive toward the gas-giant planet. One-twentieth second.Five, four, three, two, one!"
There was the unbearable double sensation of going into, and breakoutfrom, overdrive simultaneously. The _Liberty_ vanished from its place inthe formation of the dummy fleet, but left a metal-foil dummy where ithad been. It reappeared a full five thousand miles away.
The rushing missiles now were brighter. They were individual,microscopic specks like stars. They began visibly to converge upon thespace occupied by the dummy fleet.
"They'll be counting the ships," said the Pretender mildly, "to makesure that all stay for their execution. This would be a tragic sight ifit were Humphrey's real fleet. He is just obstinate enough to lethimself be killed, on the word of a treacherous Mekinese!"
The cloud of radar-blips grew bright and came near. The dummy fleet alsoappeared on the screens in the _Liberty's_ control room. Bors and theothers could see the rushing, shining flood of missiles as it pouredthrough space upon the motionless targets.
"There!" Bors pointed. "The king's ship's breaking out! Away over at theedge. I wonder if the Mekinese will notice!"
There were very tiny sparkles off at the side of the radar-screen. Theyincreased in number.
There was a flash, like the sun brought near for the tenth of a second.Another. Yet another. Then an overwhelming spout of brilliance as tensand twenties and fifties of the trajectiles went off together. It was anunbelievable sight against the stars. Missiles flamed and flashed andthere seemed to be an actual sun there, now flashing brighter and nowfainter, but intolerably hot and shining.
It went out, and left a vague and shining vapor behind. Then, belatedmissiles entered it and detonated. Their flares ceased. Then there wasnothing where there had seemed to be a fleet.
"Which," said Bors, "is that!"
Then a voice spoke coldly from space.
"_Connect all speakers for a message in clear_," it commanded. "_Alertall personnel for a general order._"
There was a pause. The voice spoke again.
"_Spacemen of Mekin_," it said icily. "_The fleet of Kandar is nowdestroyed. Kandar itself will be destroyed also as an example of theconsequences of perfidy toward Mekin. But it should be a warning toothers who would conspire against our world. Therefore, in part aspenalty and in part as a reward to the men of the Grand Fleet, you willbe allowed to land during a period of two weeks. You will be armed. Youmay confiscate, for yourself, anything of value you find. You are notrequired to exercise restraint in your actions toward the people ofKandar. They will be destroyed with their planet and no protests fromsuch criminals will be listened to. You will be landed in groups, eachon a fresh area of the planet. That is all._"
There was silence in the control room of the _Liberty_. After a longtime the Pretender said very quietly, "I will not live while such beastslive. From this moment I will kill them until I am killed!"
"I suspect King Humphrey heard that," Bors said, and drew a deep breath."Combat alert!" he ordered crisply. "We're attacking the Mekinese fleet.Handle your missiles smoothly and don't try to fire while we're inoverdrive! We'll be going in and out.... Choose your targets and fire aswe come out and while I count down. Overdrive point nine seconds. Five,four, three, two, one!"
The cosmos reeled and stomachs retche
d when the _Liberty_ came out innine-tenths of a second. She was in the very midst of a concentrationof the Mekinese fleet. Missiles streaked away, furiously, as Borscounted down. "Two-fifths second, five, four, three, two, one!"
More missiles shot away. Bors almost chanted, while with gestures towardthe radar-screen he picked out the objects near which breakout shouldfall.
"Point oh five seconds." The ship went into overdrive and out. It seemedas if the universe dissolved from one appearance to another outside theviewports. "Five, four, three, two, one! Hold fire!"
The _Liberty_ came out a good ten thousand miles from its starting-pointand beyond the area occupied by the enemy fleet. Three thousand milesaway a flare burst among the distant stars. A second. A third. Sixthousand miles away there were flashings in emptiness.
"We're doing very well," said Bors calmly into the all-speakermicrophone. "A little more care with the aiming, though. And read yourranges closer! They're not intercepting our missiles. We're not aimingthem right. We try it again now...."
The universe seemed to reel and one felt queasy, but there was work tobe done, while a voice chanted, "Five, four, three, two, one!" Then itreeled again and the same voice continued to chant. Sometimes the crewssaw where missiles hit, but they could never be sure they were theirown. Then, suddenly, the number of hits increased. They doubled andtripled and quadrupled.
"All hands!" barked Bors. "The fleet of Kandar is wading into thisfight. Be careful to pick your targets! No Kandar ships! Save yourmissiles for the enemy!"
Someone, man-handling missiles for faster and more long-continued firingthan any ship-designer ever expected, gasped, "Come on boys! Missilesfor Mekin!"
It became a joke, which seemed excruciatingly funny at the time.
Nobody saw all the battle, or even a considerable part. There was aperiod when the _Liberty_, alone, fought like the deadliest ofgadflies. It appeared in the middle of a Mekinese sub-formation, loosedmissiles and vanished before anything could be intercepted. There was notarget for Mekinese bombs to home on when they got to where the_Liberty_ had been.
Then the fleet of Kandar appeared. It broke out in single ships and inpairs, and then in groups of fives and tens. The general order for theMekinese fleet had been picked up, and the fleet of Kandar seemed tohave gone mad.
The flagship tried to fight in orthodox fashion, for a time. It dependedon the attraction its missiles had for Mekinese to keep it in space. Butpresently it was alone, and the battle was raging confusion scatteredover light-minutes, and somebody went down in to the engine room andbrazed in a low-power overdrive unit--providentially made by a juniorofficer--and the flagship of the Kandarian fleet waded in erratically,never knowing where it would come out, but rarely failing to find aMekinese ship to launch at.
The third phase of the battle was much more of an open fight, shipagainst ship, except that more and more Kandarian ships were usinglow-power overdrive--clumsily and inefficiently, but to the very greatdetriment of Mekin's grand fleet. The Mekinese officers could not quitegrasp that their antagonists were doing the impossible. They becameconfused.
The fourth phase of the battle consisted of mopping-up operations inwhich individual ships were hunted down and destroyed by the simpleprocess of a Kandarian ship seeming to materialize from nowhere a mileor half a mile from an enemy, launching one missile and seeming todematerialize again and vanish.
Very few Mekinese ships went into overdrive. Probably most of themdidn't believe what was happening. Perhaps four ships, out of the entiregrand fleet, escaped.
* * * * *
Later, of course, there was embarrassment all around. King Humphrey theEighth landed on Kandar to assure his people that they were no longer indanger. He was embarrassed because he was a victor in spite of himself.The fleet officers were embarrassed because Bors had been forced out ofthe fleet, and had literally tricked them into battle.
Bors, too, was embarrassed. There was the admiration displayed by juniorofficers of the fleet. He had become, very unwillingly, a model foryoung space-navy officers. They tried to pattern themselves after him inall ways, even to the angle at which they wore their hats. He squirmedwhen they looked at him with shining-eyed respect.
He was embarrassed, also, by the necessary revelation to the _Liberty's_crew that he was neither the leader of a rebellion nor in command of afleet; nor that he had performed quite all the fabulous feats creditedto him. He had to explain that he'd only commanded two ships, the _Isis_and the _Horus_, one of which had to be destroyed, and that when the_Liberty_ placed itself under his command he'd just been forced toresign his commission from King Humphrey. The young men who'd foughtunder him were unimpressed.
The fleet was re-supplied with food and missiles, and in one day morethe major part of it would take off for Mekin. Other ships wouldjourney, of course, to the twenty-odd, once-subject worlds. There theywould--they were calmly confident about it--mop up any survivingMekinese ships and enforce the surrender of Mekinese garrisons. And theywould gather emissaries to be carried to the fleet as it rode in orbitabout Mekin. The fleet and the representatives of the twenty-two worlds,together, would firmly rearrange the government and the policies and theambitions of Mekin.
There was still the matter of Gwenlyn. The _Sylva_ came down on Kandar,of course, where Morgan swaggered happily, pointing out theindispensable help given to Kandar by Talents, Incorporated. Borsreminded King Humphrey that Morgan collected medals, and he was dulyinvested with sundry glittering decorations, which would have staggereda lesser man.
Gwenlyn found Bors secluded in the palace, waiting until it was time toboard ship and head for Mekin. Her father accompanied her.
"I've come to say goodbye," she said gently. "We've done what we camefor."
"I still don't understand why you came," said Bors, who would muchrather have said something else. "We can't possibly do anything adequatein return. Why _did_ you come?"
He turned to Morgan, who answered blandly, "One of our Talentsprecognized an event. We had to come here and help it to happen. Gwenlynwas doubtful, but she's come around."
"What was it?"
"It hasn't happened yet," said Morgan. He produced a cigar and lightedit. "Gwenlyn, shall I tell him?"
"Don't you dare!" said Gwenlyn hotly.
Bors said unhappily, "I'm sorry you're going away, Gwenlyn. If thingswere--different, I--I--"
"You what?" asked Morgan. "By the way! One of our Talents hasprecognized that your uncle's going back to Tralee as its king again.Largely on your account. You're his heir, aren't you?"
Bors blinked.
"Hero," said Morgan, waving his hand. "Twenty-two planets adoring you,believing you brought Mekin down single-handed. Aching to work with you,follow you, admire you. Naturally, Tralee wants your uncle back. Thenthey'll have you. Of course," he added complacently, "our Department forDisseminating Truthful Seditious Rumors had something to do with it. Butthat was necessary wartime propaganda. And you didn't let anybody down."Then he said peevishly, "Not until now!"
Bors gaped. He looked at Gwenlyn. Her cheeks were crimson. Revelationstruck Bors like a blow.
"I don't believe it!" he said, staring at her. He said more loudly, "Idon't believe it!"
"Damnit," said Morgan indignantly. "She didn't believe it either! Shesaid she'd come here because she was curious, nothing more. But thatparticular Talent's never missed yet! She just plain _knows_ every timewho--"
"Hush!" said Gwenlyn fiercely. "Goodbye."
Bors moved toward her, not to shake hands. She ran out of the door. Sheran fast, for a girl. He ran faster.
Morgan puffed contentedly. Presently the completely unreal figure ofKing Humphrey the Eighth came to where Morgan had surrounded himselfwith aromatic smoke.
"Where's Bors?" asked the king.
"Yonder," said Morgan. He waved his hand. "Kissing my daughter, I think.D'you know, Majesty, I've known this would happen all along? One of ourTalents precognized you opening parliament
next year. So I knew thingshad to come out right."
"Y-yes," said the king, dubiously. "I suppose so. But there had to beefforts, too, to bring it about. Otherwise it wouldn't seem right."
"Naturally!" said Morgan. "When one of my Talents precognized thatGwenlyn was going to marry the heir of the Pretender of Tralee and beQueen of Tralee some day, why, it didn't seem a bit likely. But once Iknew about that precognition, I put in a little effort...."
King Humphrey was thoughtful.
"Things look good," said Morgan expansively. "My Talents areprecognizing all over the place. They tell me that this planet's goingto be a fine place to live. Quiet and peaceful, and serene.... Gwenlynwill be living on Tralee, most likely, and I don't want to be underfoot.I'll probably settle down here. Retire, you know."
"Splendid," said the king, politely, his mind occupied with the prospectof a warless future.
"And as for Gwenlyn and Bors," Morgan added, confidentially, "I'll tellyou something. My Talents've been working on her future. I wouldn't tellher all of it. Some of it should be a surprise. But she and Bors aregoing to be what you call happy ever after! And that's Talents,Incorporated information! You can depend on it!"
TWO MORE AVON S-F HITS YOU'RE SURE TO ENJOY
LITTLE FUZZY
_by H. Beam Piper F-118 40c_
Zarathustra belonged to the chartered Zarathustra Company as a Class-IIIuninhabited planet. They owned it lock, stock and barrel; they exploitedit without interference from the Colonial Government.
The Company was sitting pretty until Jack Holloway turned up with afamily of Fuzzies and the claim that they were not just nice littleanimals, but human. If he was right and the Fuzzies were declared the9th extrasolar sapient race, there went the Company, charter and all!
LITTLE FUZZY is our candidate for the most delightful science-fictionbook of the year.
* * * * *
THE STAR DWELLERS
_by James Blish F-122 40c_
They were beautiful creatures, highly intelligent and playful. Theinhabitants of Terra nicknamed them "Angels," yet they were awesome--theyoungest were 4,000,000 years old and the oldest had been around sincethe birth of the universe.
Space cadet Jack Loftus was almost overwhelmed when he had to assume theresponsibility of negotiating a treaty with them--a treaty which couldmean the life or death of earth and mankind.
* * * * *
Available at your local newsdealer. If he cannot supply you, orderdirect from Avon Book Division, The Hearst Corporation, 250 West 55thStreet, New York 19, New York. Enclose price listed plus 10c extra perbook to cover cost of wrapping and mailing.
TALENTS, INCORPORATED
Charlatans or Prophets?
At best, the tiny Kandarian Air Fleet would fight until its last shipwas blown into infinity. At worst, it would be annihilated without achance. To young Captain Bors, either course was unthinkable.
The ruthless Dictator of Mekin had already subjugated twenty-twohelpless planets. Now he wanted Kandar's unconditional surrender, or hisvastly superior forces would blast it out of existence.
It took a lot of guts, and the hope that is frequently born of despair,for a military man like Bors to throw in his lot with TALENTS,INCORPORATED, an untried, unscientific organization. Through peculiargifts of extra-sensory perception, its personnel could, their leaderinsisted, out-think and out-guess even the most deadly dictator in thehistory of mankind. Could it? It just might.
And it just might not.... But there was absolutely nothing to lose, anda free world (and a beautiful girl) to win. Captain Bors made hisdecision, and the loaded die was cast!
Printed in the U.S.A.
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