Blacksword

by A. J. Offutt

  There were a few words bandied as to where the co-signed agreement should be kept. Blacksword, of course, limped from Colonel McClintock's office with both check and agreement. Colonel McClintock left his office shortly after with a sick headache.

  Blacksword sent the check, marked deposit only, to the Home World Bank and Trust Co. of Earth, special delivery. He then wrote himself a check to the amount of $500,000 on that bank. This he marked for deposit only and dispatched, regular mail, to the First Planetary Bank of Luna.

  He then departed for Troy.

  STEP SEVEN

  Captain Gorham bounced to his feet. "You what?"

  "You heard me," Blacksword told him. "I told Colonel McClintock you dropped a hint to Macedon that I'm not planning to fight them. To save his own skin, he wrote me a rather large check — never mind on what TAI emergency account — and immediately set into motion proceedings for having you court-martialed. You've had it with Terra Alta Imperata, Captain Gorham."

  "You filthy 1 didn't you told him a deliberate lie, Blacksword! Why? What in the devil have I-"

  "Easy on that adrenalin, Captain Gorham. Sit down. There, that's much better. I want you to hear something. It's a recording of our conversation here a couple of weeks ago." Blacksword touched, a switch.

  "—to interrupt. Please go on," came Blacksword's recorded voice.

  "If you're quite through attempting to make me feel ill at ease, Blacksword, I'd like to talk with you a few minutes and be on my way. I have pressing duties elsewhere." That was Gorham's caustic voice.

  Blacksword switched off the machine and regarded Gorham over his cigar.

  "Surely you don't mean that merely because of that remark, you’ve done all this to me?" Gorham asked incredulously.

  "I do. Because of that remark, plus the results of a very extensive investigation, I find I like you very much, Gorham. So I set about working out a plan to have you with me, rather than wasting your nerve and talent with TAI. And, incidentally, I managed to pick up a piece of change from TAI, as well as placing Colonel McClintock in my 'bought man' ledger."

  Gorham leaned forward across Blacksword's massive desk. "And what's to prevent my taking this whole story to Earth High Command headquarters?"

  "Nothing — except a little adult thinking on your part. You're not TAI material, Gorham. You know it and I know it. You're damned fine Blacksword material. Please allow me to point out that Blacksword men receive ample opportunity for travel and excitement, frequent raises and bonuses, and the very best of salary. As a matter of fact, the starting figure I have in mind for you is considerably above a TAI Captain's pay. Or a TAI Colonel's pay, for that matter."

  "And there's another inducement. My men and I accept bribes as a matter of course, and energetically solicit such additional emolument. All I require in return is loyalty and a closed mouth." '

  Blacksword sat back and relit the cold cigar. He regarded Captain Gorham with a very slight smile.

  Gorham smiled back. "Quite a sales pitch. Only it wasn't necessary. But you knew that before you began, didn't you? I assume the plan is for me to resign from TAI at once?"

  Blacksword nodded. He opened a drawer in his desk and passed a deposit voucher across the desk. It showed that the sum of $25,000 had been deposited to the account of Captain T. L. Gorham.

  "First six months in advance," Blacksword said.

  Gorham examined the slip of paper with a raised eyebrow, noted it was dated two weeks earlier, and

  grinned. He buttoned it into his tunic. He stood.

  "Gorham reporting for duty assignment, sir."

  BLACKSWORD laughed aloud.

  "None of that. My name is Blacksword. And we don't report that way. I have little use for the military way of doing things. Keep it sloppy."

  Gorham stuck his hands in his pockets. "Admitting the fact that you were absolutely sure of yourself — and me — what if I had refused?"

  "Oh, that's something I forgot to mention, Tom. You'll be watched. And the man who watches you will be watched. And — well, I hope you won't mind, but there's the matter of the recording. This is a composite of all you said when you were here before." He flipped the switch again, and again they listened to Gorham's voice. "This will give you an idea of how we do things."

  "If you're quite through attempting to make me feel ill at ease, Blacksword, I'd like to talk with you a few minutes and be on my way. I have pressing duties elsewhere. Never. Severe breach of etiquette. Nice weather you're having here.

  I'm afraid I haven't the foggiest idea what you're talking about. Suit yourself. Sir? As far as I can see, Blacksword, you're correct. You're aware of our policy. That's very thoughtful of you. In that case, we shall go on keeping an eye on you, but remain outside the dispute. By the same token, we can't be expected to lend assistance to the defeated planet. Surely you don't intend being defeated?"

  Gorham looked questioningly at his new employer and shrugged.

  Blacksword grinned. "Here's what my experts have done with it." He waved at the still-playing machine.

  Gorham: Surely you don't intend being defeated?

  Blacksword: Of course not. But I want my methods kept under glass. This is a check, Captain Gorham. It's drawn to the amount of twenty-five thousand dollars. Would you consider . . .

  Gorham: Never. Severe breach of etiquette. You're aware of our policy.

  Blacksword: Oh, naturally. But if I were to mail this check to your bank ...

  Gorham: Suit yourself. That's very thoughtful of you. Of course we can't be expected to go on keeping an eye on you.

  Blacksword: Fine. It's been a pleasure, Captain Gorham. Of course this little matter will remain strictly between the two of us.

  Gorham: Of course. In that case, I have pressing duties elsewhere. Nice weather you're having here.

  Blacksword: Ah! Good!

  Gorham: I'd like to be on my way.

  Blacksword: All right. Thank you very much, Captain Gorham.

  Gorham stared at him. Then he burst out laughing. "At least in this work I'll never have to worry about the wisdom of my orders or my superior's competence!"

  STEP EIGHT

  MACEDONIAN scouts kept Troy under constant surveillance for signs of departing warcraft. Trojan scouts kept Macedon under constant surveillance for signs of departing warcraft. Scouts from neither planet saw any evidence of action. Scouts from both planets were greatly surprised, therefore, when they were angrily called home.

  The Trojans disembarked to find themselves under arrest. Their protests were answered with a very curt gesture. Their eyes followed the pointing finger.

  There was a satellite in the sky.

  No, not a satellite — it was stationary. A large round steel thing, perched on nothing, far (a hundred miles? fifty? how big was the thing? ) above their capital.

  They were all subsequently court-martialed for gross neglect in the line of duty. They never understood how the thing had got there. But it was Macedonian, and it ended the war before it began.

  The assembled members of the Secondary Control Council of Troy looked up as Dictator G. Paul Blacksword limped briskly in.

  "Good day, gentlemen. It would appear negotiations are the order of the day."

  A Councilor — Frey — stood and leveled a finger at him.

  "Blacksword, we hired you as dictator for one reason — to win the war against Macedon!" he shouted. There was loud assent.

  Blacksword continued to the podium. He inclined his head to the seated Keplar and leaned on the lectern a moment. Then he picked up the gavel and brought it down with a crash. The head flew across the room and rattled into a corner. He dropped the handle.

  "This meeting will come to order! Sergeant-at-arms, you will eject Councilor Frey unless he sits down in the next ten seconds." Blacksword regarded his watch.

  The Councilor sat and immediately shot up his hand. Blacksword chuckled around his cigar.

  "Okay, okay. I heard you the first time. No need repeating. O
bviously your memory needs refreshing, Councilor. You say this council hired me for one reason — to win the war against Macedon. Mmm? All right.

  "One: there is no war against Macedon, and there wasn't when I was hired. Two: that's not the way my contract reads. I was employed to open trade with Macedon and patch up a share-and-share-alike policy with Macedon concerning the three unpopulated worlds of this system. That correct, Mr. Presidor?"

  Keplar nodded without speaking.

  "All right And one thing else. This is for you personally, Councilor Frey, and to you personally, every man in this room. I demonstrated my faith when I threw in with you in the matter of Colonel Hines' murder. I remind you in passing, because you force me to, that we are all accessories after the fact in the deliberate hoodwinking of the authorities in that little matter."

  Frey subsided. He disdained the many exchanged looks on all sides.

  "Now then. There's a 'satellite' in our sky. It's a ship, a spherical ship, hovering directly over our capital. Thus it isn't a satellite. It's loaded with cobalt rockets. They're aimed at Troy. What's worse, they're aimed at Troy City — right here, gentlemen, at us. It's a Macedonian ship and we have an ultimatum — capitulate or go the way of all atoms.

  "The ship broadcast that ultimatum and clammed up. It refuses to acknowledge contact. We are unable to contact Macedon because her moon is in the way, and the ultimatum runs out before the moon's out of the way. So they deliberately planned this to negate all but personal contact. I repeat: capitulate or else. Are these facts correct, Mr. Presidor?"

  A. J. Keplar nodded unhappily.

  "All right. We have one hour and — umm — seven minutes. Anyone here not want to capitulate?"

  THERE was a considerable amount of noise in the council room. But when Blacksword banged his fist in lieu of the decapitated gavel and repeated the question, there was no answer.

  "Sergeant-at-arms, our men are waiting at the transmitter. Please inform them that they may go ahead and read the prepared statement I have already given them."

  Blacksword waved meatily at a dense cloud of smoke. "Now then. Their only demand is that I, personally and unaccompanied, go to Macedon to discuss terms. Is there any objection to that?"

  "So long as you agree to nothing!" Frey cried.

  "Gentlemen, you employed me because you wanted me. I'm an expert salesman. I guarantee you my wages against double that sum that I shall open trade with Macedon and arrive at an agreement concerning the other three worlds of this system. I guarantee it against full forfeiture of my wages. Now. As of the moment I sign the papers with Macedon, I resign as Dictator of Troy. That's the contract. My job will be done. I want my money now."

  The stormy Frey shouted again. "And what assurance have we that you'll carry out your duty, instead of vanishing with the money?"

  "Why, sir, I'm shocked. But since the thought had previously occurred to me that that thought might occur to you, I have prepared an agreement which Presidor Keplar and I shall co-sign. That way you have me. TAI will take over if I abscond with your funds. There are a half-dozen charges: money under false pretenses, failure to fulfill governmental contract, so forth, so on."

  A. J. Keplar read the mutually binding agreement aloud. He and Blacksword signed it, and Blacksword handed it to him. Councilor Frey demanded it be photocopied and filed at once. Blacksword agreed, with a rueful shake of his head. Keplar gave him his wages, a check for $500,000. Blacksword pocketed it and winked as he shook Keplar's hand.

  "Gentlemen, it has been a pleasure. You will agree with me in a few days when the Macedonian ambassadors arrive. Thank you, I have a ship waiting to take me to Macedon. Oh, and Councilor Frey, it's my own ship."

  Blacksword tarried on Troy only long enough to special-delivery the check to the Home Planet Bank and Trust Co. of Earth, for deposit only, to write himself a check on that bank to the amount of $500,000, and to mail it to the First Planetary Bank of Luna, for deposit only.

  Then he departed for Macedon.

  Approximately one hour later, the ever-suspicious Councilor Frey discovered the very interesting fact that the agreement Blacksword had brought to the meeting had been prepared the day before the appearance of the Macedonian warship.

  STEP NINE

  THE ports of the Ebon Cutlass opened and disgorged two men. One was the pilot. The other, when the cigar smoke had cleared in the Macedonian air, proved to be G. Paul Blacksword, leaning lightly on a cane.

  A very long, very black, very chrome-trimmed limousine growled up alongside Blacksword's allegorically named ship and the chauffeur leaped out and opened the rear door. Blacksword, after a couple of words to his pilot, entered the car.

  "I want my ship kept clear and ready for take-off," he said to the soldier-chauffeur.

  "I'll see to it, Dictator."

  "Fine. My pilot will remain with the ship. When I am ready to leave, I'll tolerate no folderol about delays."

  "I'll see to it personally, Dictator."

  "Thank you very much."

  The young soldier tooled the big car across the port to the group of waiting men.

  "Please start at the left and give me name, rank and serial number of those men," Blacks word said as they approached the party. "I think I remember them, but I don't want to miscall any names."

  "Yes, sir." Starting with General Dane and ending with twenty-three-year-old King Robert II, he identified the members of the Macedonian delegation.

  The car drew up before the group and Blacksword was out before the chauffeur could open his own door.

  "King Robert!" Blacksword cried jovially. "It's certainly a pleasure to see you again!"

  The young monarch took Blacksword's extended hand impersonally. "Dictator Blacksword," he acknowledged, and turned to his deputation. "I'm sure you'll remember—"

  Blacksword was already shaking hands down the line, calling each man by name. They were obviously surprised and impressed with his "memory."

  Reaching the end of the line, Blacksword swung and peered up at the sky.

  "It is still there, sir," General Dane told him quietly.

  The spherical ship bearing the Trojan coat of arms hung almost directly above them.

  "So I see, so I see. Well, gentlemen, we can certainly ease ourselves of that burden at once. King Robert, have I your word that there will be no last-ditch attempts, once that warship and its bombs are removed?"

  "We have capitulated, sir. You have our word."

  "Fine. Quite sufficient, of course. Where's the transmitter?"

  "You cannot contact your world, Dictator. Our moon is in the way and contact will not be possible for nearly an hour."

  "Yes, I'm aware of that. But it won't be necessary to contact Troy. The ship is under my command, as are all things Trojan."

  They accompanied him, exchanging looks at his brusque affability, to the transmitting room.

  BLACKSWORD beamed at the operator and usurped his chair. "Blacksword to Ebon Cutlass. Blacksword to Ebon Cutlass. Hey, there!"

  A face appeared hazily on the screen.

  "Battleship Ebon Cutlass to Blacksword. Battleship Ebon Cutlass to Blacksword. Commander Gorham standing by for orders, sir.

  The Macedonians did not understand Blacksword's chuckle. T. L. Gorham, formerly of Terra Alta Imperata, had visited Macedon only once. They recognized neither the name nor the static-distorted outline of his face on the view-screen.

  "Disarm cobalt rockets and pull away from Macedon at once, Commander. Proceed according to plan."

  "I'm sorry, sir. You'll have to give the code word."

  "Cry Wolf."

  "Very well, Dictator." The misty face disappeared.

  "Shall we watch, gentlemen?" Blacksword said pleasantly, and King Robert nodded with set lips. Outside, they stared up as the spherical craft jetted fire, shivered, started to move, and vanished in a soundless rush. Blacksword did not miss the Macedonian sighs.

  They proceeded to the palace in two cars. Blacksword waved away sug
gestions that he rest, shower, eat, before they began their talks, and they trooped into the conference room.

  "If I am not being too impertinent, Dictator, just where was your ship—" General Dane gestured at the sky — "based? Our scouts reported no warcraft leaving the surface of Troy."

  "That must remain a military secret, at least until we are through here, General," Blacksword told him. "But it did arrive suddenly and hover directly over the capital at 7:30 this morning, did it not? And demand immediate surrender under pain of instant bombardment with cobalt rocket-bombs?"

  "It did," King Robert said. "Since there would have been needless and inhumane slaying of civilians, we chose to—" he hesitated over the word— "surrender."