History Repeats

the other, whose expression was greedy self-confidence. Oneof His Excellency's Peacekeepers presided over the exchange. Coldly heextracted a fiftyweight from the pile and folded it into the signed andcompleted wager-contract. For his own coffer he extracted a fiveweightand slipped it into his boot top.

  Peter Hawley and Buregarde passed on, went through the far door draggingtheir late adversary ignominiously by the heels. Amid the lessenedpublicity of the distant hall, Peter checked the man and shrugged. "Hemay live," he said coldly, "if he doesn't bleed to death."

  "You really ought to take 'em on the high side," said Buregarde,plaintively. "All I've got is my teeth to grab with. They don't bleed sobad from the ankle."

  "They don't stay stopped that way either," said Peter harshly.

  "You'd not be getting any praise from the Chief for that sort ofbrutality."

  "If Xanabar weren't rotten to the core, we wouldn't be plowing throughit in the first place. Now, let's get going."

  "Shouldn't you call for the rest of the crew?"

  "Not until I'm certain the girl's here. I'd hate to cut the city-widesearch for cold evidence."

  "She's here. I scent her."

  "Maybe it's past tense, Buregarde. Or maybe it's another woman."

  "Could be. But one thing: It is definitely Terrestrial woman." The dogsniffed again. "You get anything?"

  "No more than before. It's close and they're the same set of impressionsYet, any woman would be frantic with fear and concern."

  "I ... _shhh_!" Buregarde's sharp ears lifted instinctively at a distantsound not heard by the man. With a toss of his head, the dog folded oneear back, uncovering the inner shell. Like a sonic direction finder,Buregarde turned his head and listened.

  "Man," he said finally with a low growling voice. "Peter, there'll behell to pay around here directly. He's stumbled over our recentconquest."

  "Let's get cutting!"

  * * * * *

  Peter started trying doors and peering in; the dog raced on ahead of theman, sniffing deep at the bottom of each. It was the dog that found theroom. He called, "Here!" and Peter raced forward just as the fellow onthe stairs yelled something in his native tongue.

  Peter hit the door with the heel of his foot and slammed it open bysplintering the doorframe. The dog crouched low and poised; Peterslipped in and around feeling for a light-switch. From inside there wasa voiceless whimper of fright and from outside and below there came thepounding of several sets of heavy feet. Peter found the switch andflooded the room with light. The girl--whether she was Miss VanessaLewis or someone else, and kidnap-wise it was still a Terrestrialgirl--lay trussed on the bed, a patch of surgical tape over her mouth.

  "Sorry," said Peter in a voice that he hoped was soothing. He reached,freed a corner of the tape and ripped it off in a single swipe. The girlhowled. Peter slapped her lightly. "Stop it!" he commanded sharply."Vanessa Lewis?"

  "Yes, but--"

  "Call out the marines, Peter," snarled the dog.

  "No! Bo! Back!"

  Reluctantly the dog backed into the room. He crouched low, poised tospring, with his nose just beyond the doorframe.

  "Four of 'em," he whimpered pleadingly. "I can get two--"

  "Well, I can't get the other two unless I'm lucky," snapped Peter."Don't be so eager to die for nothing, Buregarde."

  "All this calculation," grumbled the dog sourly. "I don't call it a lossif I get two for one."

  "I call it a loss if I don't get four for nothing--or the whole damnedEmpire of Xanabar for nothing, for that matter. We've a job to do and itain't dying--until Miss Lewis is out of this glorious citadel."

  The girl looked from one to the other. They did not need anyidentification; they were their own bona fides. Only man--TerrestrialMan--had intelligent dogs to work beside him. Period, question closed.Buregarde snarled at the door warningly while Peter stripped surgicaltape from wrists and ankles.

  Outside, someone called, "Come out or we blast!"

  Buregarde snarled, "Come in and we'll cut you to bits!"

  The quick flash of a pencil-ray flicked in a lance above the dog's nose:Buregarde snapped back as the lancet of light cut downward, then snappedforward for a quick look outside as the little pencil of dangerflickered dark.

  "Careful, Bo!"

  "You call the boys," snapped the dog. "I'll--"

  * * * * *

  Something came twisting forward to hit the doorframe, it dropped justinside the doorjamb. Buregarde leaped, snapped at the thing and caughtit in midair, snapped his head in a vicious shake and sent it whirlingback outside again before it could be identified. The dog sunfished andlanded on all four. Then the thing went off with a dull _pouf_! outside.There was a gentle flash of quick light that was smothered by a billowof smoke. Buregarde leaped into the cloud and disappeared. There was ahoarse shriek and the mad scrabble of dog-claws on the hard floor, thesound of a heavy thud, and the angry snarl of a dog with its teethfastened into something soft. Then there was the fast patter of dog-feetand Buregarde came around the door on a dead run, sliding side-wise tocarom off the opened door into safety just as a pencil-ray flicked tofollow him.

  "Got him," said the dog in a satisfied tone. "That's one!"

  He took his post by the doorframe again, the tip of his nose justoutside. There was a consultation out there in the hallway, at whichBuregarde called, "Make a wild rush for us!"

  Miss Lewis said, "What are we going to do?"

  "Fight it out," said Peter. "They can't win so long as we're alive now.I've got my crew on its way in a dead run, and if we make enough noise,some of His Excellency's Peacemakers will step in and demand their cutof the finances." He grinned. "How much are you worth, Miss Lewis?"

  She shuddered. "I don't know how much father would pay--"

  "Hit 'em low, Peter!" came Buregarde's snarl.

  Three of them came in a-slant, bounced shoulders against the openeddoor, caught their bearings and hell was out for noon. Buregarde caughtthe first with a slash at the throat; they went down in a mad whirl ofdog and thug, paws, tail, arms, legs and a spurt of blood. The secondflicked his pencil-ray at Peter, its capsule charge faded to a meresting before it cut into him. The third aimed a kick at the strugglingdog. Vanessa Lewis snatched a box from the bureau and hurled it at thesecond. Peter thumbed his pencil-ray and winged the third man in thebiceps. Buregarde leaped for the second man's gun hand and closed on itas the hurled box opened and scatter-shotted his face with bric-a-brac.The man with the bloody throat flailed out and caught Peter by theankle. Peter stomped his face with his other heel. Miss Lewis picked upthe table lamp and with a single motion turned off the light andfinished felling the one with the ray-burned shoulder.

  Buregarde dropped from the second man's wrist and crouched to spring.The man cowered back, his good arm covering his throat and his other armhanging limp. He mouthed fright-noises in some tongue native to somestar a thousand light-years across the galaxy.

  Coldly, Peter stepped forward and belted him in the plexus.

  "Now," he said calmly, "we shall vacate the premises!"

  They went side by side, facing slightly outward, Buregarde between themand slightly ahead. "We're coming out!" called the dog. "ThreeBarbarians from Terra!"

  * * * * *

  Down on the dark street, they met their mercenary again. He eyed themsourly. "I see you were, in a sense, successful."

  Peter Hawley faced the mercenary. "We were successful and would you liketo make something of it?"

  "I'm going to have to arrest you, you know."

  "You'll lose an arm trying!" snapped the dog.

  "There's murder been committed tonight," said His Excellency'sPeacemaker. "The Peace of Xanabar has been disturbed."

  "Why you chiseling crook, there's been kidnaping tonight, and--"

  "I'm afraid that I shall have to ask that the young lady produce herpassport," said the mercenary. "Otherwise she's in Xanabar Cita
delillegally."

  Buregarde said, "Hit him low, Peter. Here come the boys."

  "No!"

  "Just once--for fun?"

  "No. I want our money-grubbing Peacekeeper to carry a message to HisExcellency. I want His Excellency to read some Terrestrial History. Onceupon a time there was a place called the Byzantine Empire that laidacross the trade routes. The upper crust of people used to serve