Jacovik frowned, completely closing his left eye. "You've always been better at thinking things out that I, Ank." He paused and looked down at his hands again. "I hope you're right, Ank. I hope you're right."
* * *
In spite of his personal conviction that he was right, Anketam had to admit that Jacovik had reason for his own opinion. He knew that many of the farmers were uncertain about the ultimate outcome of the war.
Anketam looked around him at the several hundred men who made up the farming force of the barony. His own crew were standing nearby, mixing with Jacovik's crew and talking in low voices. In the cool winter air, Anketam could still detect the aroma of human bodies, the smell of sweat that always arose when a crowd of people were grouped closely together. And he thought he could detect a faint scent of fear and apprehension in that atmosphere.
Or was that just his imagination, brought on by Jacovik's pessimism?
He opened his lips to say something to Jacovik, but his words died unborn. The sudden silence in the throng around him, the abrupt cessation of whispering, told him, more definitely than a chorus of trumpets could have done, that The Chief had appeared.
He turned around quickly, to face the Main Gate again.
The Main Gate was no higher than the thorn-bush hedge that it pierced. It was a heavily built, intricately decorated piece of polished goldwood, four feet high and eight feet across, set in a sturdy goldwood frame. The arch above the gate reached a good ten feet, giving The Chief plenty of room to stand.
He was just climbing up to stand on the gate itself as Anketam turned.
Chief Samas was a tall man, lean of face and wide of brow. His smooth-shaven chin was long and angular, and his dark eyes were deeply imbedded beneath heavy, bushy eyebrows.
And he was dressed in clothing cut in a manner that Anketam had never seen before.
He stood there, tall and proud, a half smile on his face. It was several seconds before he spoke. During that time, there was no sound from the assembled farmers.
"Men," he said at last, "I think that none of you have seen this uniform before. I look odd in it, do I not?"
The men recognized The Chief's remark as a joke, and a ripple of laughter ran through the crowd.
The Chief's smile broadened. "Odd indeed. Yes. And do you perceive the golden emblems, here at my throat? They, and the uniform, indicate that I have been chosen to help lead the armed forces—a portion of them, I should say."
He smiled around at the men. "The Council of Chiefs has authorized the President to appoint me a Colonel of Light Tank. I am expected to lead our armored forces into battle against the damned Invaders."
A cheer came from the farmers, loud and long. Anketam found himself yelling as loud as anyone. The pronunciation and the idiom of the speech of the Chiefs was subtly different from those of the farmers, but Anketam could recognize the emphasis that his Chief was putting on the words of his speech. "Invaders." With a capital "I."
The Chief held up his hands, and the cheering died. At the same time, the face of Chief Samas lost its smile.
"I will be gone for some time," he said somberly. "The Council feels that it will be two or three years before we have finally driven the Invaders from our planet. This will not be a simple war, nor an easy one. The blockade of orbital ships which encircle Xedii keep us from making proper contact with any friends that we may have outside the circle of influence of the damned Invaders. We are, at the moment, fighting alone. And yet, in spite of that—in spite of that, I say—we have thus far held the enemy at a standstill. And, in the long run, we shall win."
He took a deep breath then, and his baritone voice thundered out when he spoke.
"Shall win? No! We must win! None of you want to become slaves in the factories of the Invaders. I know that, and you know it. Who among you would slave your life away in the sweatshops of the Invaders, knowing that those for whom you worked might, at any time, simply deprive you of your livelihood at their own whim, since they feel no sense of responsibility toward you as individuals?"
Again The Chief stopped, and his eyes sought out each man in turn.
"If there are any such among you, I renounce you at this moment. If there are any such, I ask ... nay, I plead ... I order ... I order you to go immediately to the Invaders."
Another deep breath. No one moved.
"You have all heard the propaganda of the Invaders. You know that they have offered you—well, what? Freedom? Yes, that's the way they term it. Freedom." Another pause. "Freedom. Hah!"
He put his hands on his hips. "None of you have ever seen a really regimented society—and I'm thankful that you haven't. I hope that you never will."
Chief Samas twisted his lips into an expression of hatred. "Freedom? Freedom from what! Freedom to do what?
"I'll tell you. Freedom to work in their factories for twelve hours a day! Freedom to work until you are no longer of any use to them, and then be turned out to die—with no home, and no food to support you. Freedom to live by yourselves, with every man's hand against you, with every pittance that you earn taxed to support a government that has no thought for the individual!
"Is that what you want? Is that what you've worked for all your lives?"
A visual chorus of shaken heads accompanied the verbal chorus of "No."
Chief Samas dropped his hands to his sides. "I thought not. But I will repeat: If any of you want to go to the Invaders, you may do so now."
Anketam noticed a faint movement to his right, but it stopped before it became decisive. He glanced over, and he noticed that young Basom was standing there, half poised, as though unable to make up his mind.
Then The Chief's voice bellowed out again. "Very well. You are with me. I will leave the work of the barony in your hands. I ask that you produce as much as you can. Next year—next spring—we will not plant cataca."
There was a low intake of breath from the assembled men. Not plant cataca? That was the crop that they had grown since—well, since ever. Anketam felt as though someone had jerked a rug from beneath him.
"There is a reason for this," The Chief went on. "Because of the blockade that surrounds Xedii, we are unable to export cataca leaves. The rest of the galaxy will have to do without the drug that is extracted from the leaves. The incident of cancer will rise to the level it reached before the discovery of cataca. When they understand that we cannot ship out because of the Invader's blockade, they will force the Invader to stop his attack on us. What we need now is not cataca, but food. So, next spring, you will plant food crops.
"Save aside the cataca seed until the war is over. The seedlings now in the greenhouses will have to be destroyed, but that cannot be helped."
He stopped for a moment, and when he began again his voice took on a note of sadness.
"I will be away from you until the war is won. While I am gone, the barony will be run by my wife. You will obey her as you would me. The finances of the barony will be taken care of by my trusted man, Kevenoe." He gestured to one side, and Kevenoe, who was standing there, smiled quickly and then looked grim again.
"As for the actual running of the barony—as far as labor is concerned—I think I can leave that in the hands of one of my most capable men."
He raised his finger and pointed. There was a smile on his face.
Anketam felt as though he had been struck an actual blow; the finger was pointed directly at him.
"Anketam," said The Chief, "I'm leaving the barony in your hands until I return. You will supervise the labor of all the men here. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir," said Anketam weakly. "Yes, sir. I understand."
IV
Never, for the rest of his life, would the sharp outlines of that moment fade from his memory. He knew that the men of the barony were all looking at him; he knew that The Chief went on talking afterwards. But those things impressed themselves but lightly on his mind, and they blurred soon afterwards. Twenty years late
r, in retelling the story, he would swear that The Chief had ended his speech at that point. He would swear that it was only seconds later that The Chief had jumped down from the gate and motioned for him to come over; his memory simply didn't register anything between those two points.
But The Chief's words after the speech—the words spoken to him privately—were bright and clear in his mind.
The Chief was a good three inches shorter than Anketam, but Anketam never noticed that. He just stood there in front of The Chief, wondering what more his Chief had to say.
"You've shown yourself to be a good farmer, Anketam," Chief Samas said in a low voice. "Let's see—you're of Skebbin stock, I think?"
Anketam nodded. "Yes, sir."
"The Skebbin family has always produced good men. You're a credit to the Skebbins, Anketam."
"Thank you, sir."
"You've got a hard job ahead of you," said The Chief. "Don't fail me. Plant plenty of staple crops, make sure there's enough food for everyone. If you think it's profitable, add more to the animal stock. I've authorized Kevenoe to allow money for the purchase of breeding stock. You can draw whatever you need for that purpose.
"This war shouldn't last too long. Another year, at the very most, and we'll have forced the Invaders off Xedii. When I come back, I expect to find the barony in good shape, d'you hear?"
"Yes, sir. It will be."
"I think it will," said The Chief. "Good luck to you, Anketam."
As The Chief turned away, Anketam said: "Thank you, sir—and good luck to you, sir."
Chief Samas turned back again. "By the way," he said, "there's one more thing. I know that men don't always agree on everything. If there is any dispute between you and Kevenoe, submit the question to my wife for arbitration." He hesitated. "However, I trust that there will not be many such disputes. A woman shouldn't be bothered with such things any more than is absolutely necessary. It upsets them. Understand?"
Anketam nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Very well. Good-by, Anketam. I hope to see you again before the next harvest." And with that, he turned and walked through the gate, toward the woman who was standing anxiously on the porch of his home.
* * *
Anketam turned away and started towards his own village. Most of the others had already begun the trek back. But Jacovik, Blejjo, and Basom were waiting for him. They fell into step beside him.
After a while, Jacovik broke the silence. "Well, Ank, it looks like you've got a big job on your hands."
"That's for sure," said Anketam. He knew that Jacovik envied him the job; he knew that Jacovik had only missed the appointment by a narrow margin.
"Jac," he said, "have you got a man on your crew that you can trust to take over your job?"
"Madders could do it, I think," Jacovik said cautiously. "Why?"
"This is too big a job for one man," said Anketam quietly. "I'll need help. I want you to help me, Jac."
There was a long silence while the men walked six paces. Then Jacovik said: "I'll do whatever I can, Ank. Whatever I can." There was honest warmth in his voice.
Again there was a silence.
"Blejjo," Anketam said after a time, "do you mind coming out of retirement for a while?"
"Not if you need me, Ank," said the old man.
"It won't be hard work," Anketam said. "I just want you to take care of the village when I'm not there. Settle arguments, assign the village work, give out punishment if necessary—things like that. As far as the village is concerned, you'll be supervisor."
"What about the field work, Ank?" Blejjo asked. "I'm too old to handle that. Come spring, and—"
"I said, as far as the village is concerned," Anketam said. "I've got another man in mind for the field work."
And no one was more surprised than Basom when Anketam said: "Basom, do you think you could handle the crew in the field?"
Basom couldn't even find his tongue for several more paces. When he discovered at last that it was still in his mouth, where he'd left it, he said: "I ... I'll try, Ank. I sure will try, if you want me to. But ... well ... I mean, why pick me?"
Old Blejjo chuckled knowingly. Jacovik, who hardly knew the boy, just looked puzzled.
"Why not you?" Anketam countered.
"Well ... you've always said I was lazy. And I am, I guess."
"Sure you are," said Anketam. "So am I. Always have been. But a smart lazy man can figure out things that a hard worker might overlook. He can find the easy, fast way to get a job done properly. And he doesn't overwork his men because he knows that when he's tired, the others are, too. You want to try it, Basom?"
"I'll try," said Basom earnestly. "I'll try real hard." Then, after a moment's hesitation. "Just one thing, Anketam—"
"What's that?"
"Kevenoe. I don't want him coming around me. Not at all. If he ever said one word to me, I'd probably break his neck right there."
Anketam nodded. The Chief had given Zillia to Kevenoe only two months before, and the only one who liked the situation was Kevenoe himself.
"I'll deal with Kevenoe, Basom," Anketam said. "Don't you worry about that."
"All right, then," Basom said. "I'll do my best, Anketam."
"You'd better," said Anketam. "If you don't, I'll just have to give the job to someone else. You hear?"
"I hear," said Basom.
V
The war dragged on. In the spring of the following year, over a hundred thousand Invader troops landed on the seacoast a hundred miles from Chromdin and began a march on the capital. But somebody had forgotten to tell the Invader general that it rained in that area in the spring and that the mud was like glue. The Invader army bogged down, and, floundering their way toward Chromdin, they found themselves opposed by an army of nearly a hundred thousand Xedii troops under General Jojon, and the invasion came to a standstill at that point.
Farther to the west, another group of forty thousand Invader troops came down from the Frozen Country, and a Xedii general named Oljek trounced them with a mere seventeen thousand men.
All in all, the Invaders were getting nowhere, but they seemed determined to keep on plugging.
The news only filtered slowly into the areas which were situated well away from the front. A thousand miles to the west of Chief Samas' barony, the Invaders began cutting deeply into Xedii territory, but they were nowhere near the capital, so no one was really worried.
Anketam worked hard at keeping the barony going during the absence of The Chief. Instead of cataca, he and Jacovik planted food crops, doing on a larger scale just what they had always done in the selected sections around the villages. They had always grown their own food, and now they were doing it on a grand scale.
No news came from off-planet, except for unreliable rumors. What the rest of the galaxy was doing about the war on Xedii, no one knew.
Young Basom proved to be a reasonably competent supervisor. He was nowhere near as good as Anketam or Jacovik, but there were worse supers in the barony.
Anketam found that the biggest worry was not in the handling of the farmers, but in obtaining manufactured goods. The staff physician complained to Kevenoe that drugs were getting scarce. Shoes and clothing were almost impossible to obtain. Rumor had it that arms and ammunition were running short in the Xedii armies. For two centuries, Xedii had depended on other planets to provide manufactured goods for her, and now those supplies were cut off, except for a miserably slow trickle that came in via the daring space officers who managed to evade the orbital forts that the Invaders had set up around the planet.
Even so, Anketam's faith in the power of Xedii remained constant. The invading armies were still being held off from Chromdin, weren't they? The capital would not fall, of that he was sure.
What Anketam did not and could not know was the fact that the Invaders were growing tired of pussy-footing around. Instead of fighting Xedii on Xedii's terms, the Invaders decided to fight it on their own.
Anketam was shocked when he heard the news that the Invaders had reached Tana L'At, having cut down through the center of the continent, dividing the inhabited part of Xedii into two almost equal parts. They knocked out Tana L'At with a heavy shelling of paralysis gas, evacuated the inhabitants, and dusted the city with radioactive powder to make it uninhabitable for several years.
Then they began to march eastward.
VI
For the first time in his life, Anketam was feeling genuine fear. He had feared for his life before, yes. And he had feared for his family. But now he feared for his world, which was vaster by far.
He blinked at the tall, gangling Kevenoe, who was still out of breath from running. "Say that again."
"I said that the Invader troops are crossing Benner Creek," Kevenoe said angrily. "They'll be at the castle within an hour. We've got to do something."
"What?" Anketam asked dazedly.
"Fight them? With what? We have no weapons."
"I don't know," Kevenoe admitted. "I just don't know. I thought maybe you'd know. Maybe you could think of something. What about Lady Samas?"
"What about her?" Anketam still couldn't force his mind to function.
"Haven't you heard? The Invaders have been looting and burning every castle in their path! And the women—"
Lady Samas in danger! Something crystallized in Anketam's mind. He pointed in the direction of the castle. "Get back there!" he snapped. "Get everyone out of the castle! Save all the valuables you can! Get everyone down to the river and tell them to hide in the brush at the Big Swamp. The Invaders won't go there. Move!"
Kevenoe didn't even pause to answer. He ran back toward the saddle animal he had tethered at the edge of the village.
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