I didn’t hesitate. This was war and troops die for a lot of reasons.
“Never saw him before in my life.”
My voice penetrated Hamal’s drugged brain because he looked up, blinking. Weak as his nerve was, he must have the physical constitution of an ox to be even moving after the amount of gas he had breathed. Then he groped for me shouting aloud.
“You must help me, they are going to kill me, get me out of here, it was a mistake bringing me in the first place…”
“What’s be saying?” one of the military policemen asked.
“I have no idea—though I think he might be the spy who has been causing the engine room sabotage.” Time was going by too quickly; how soon before they thought of Kraj? “Put him in the back of the car and come with me. I know how to make him talk sense.”
While they were doing this I started the engine and pulled away, even before they sat down. This tumbled them about a bit and if they noticed the blankets on the floor they did not mention them. Throttle wide open I headed for the exit.
Towards the officer who stood blocking the way, holding up his hand for me to stop. I kept going but had to brake hard at the last instant because he did not move.
“You cannot leave. The base is closed.” He was cold-eyed, hard-faced and mean. So was I.
“I am leaving. Save your orders for others.”
“My orders were to close the gate to everyone without exception.”
“I have a prisoner who may be a saboteur and I have two men to guard him. I am taking him to the Octagon for questioning. Your professional zeal is commendable. Captain, but you must know that I am the one who issues orders, not obeys them.”
“You cannot leave.” Either he was bullheaded to an insane degree—or he had specific orders about me. I had not time to find out. Through the window I could see one of the men answering the phone and I had a sharp suspicion what that call might be. I drew my pistol and pointed it at the captain.
“Move or I will kill you,” I said, in as bored a monotone as I could manage.
He half reached for his gun—then stopped. For a moment more be hesitated and I could see the worried fear in his eyes. Then he stepped aside reluctantly and I gunned the car forward. I had a brief glimpse of a soldier running out of the guardhouse, pointing at the car, shouting something that was drowned in the roar of the engine. After that I did not look back, though the military policemen obviously did. In the rear view mirror I saw them whispering together and they might have been reaching for their guns. I took no chances. As soon as we turned the first corner I threw a gas grenade into the backseat, then stopped just long enough to unload my brace of sleeping beauties.
Hamal was also now very soundly asleep and I strongly wished that I were as well. I yawned broadly and, following the side roads, headed for the dock.
Chapter 21
“Explain, DiGriz, explain and make it good.”
Inskipp was in his usual charming humor, growling and snarling and pacing the length of the spacer’s lounge.
“First tell me how the children are, my sons, never seen by their father, how do they do?”
“Yes, how are they?” Angelina asked, sitting back comfortably in one of the lounge chairs. Inskipp sputtered a bit but had to answer.
“Doing fine. Putting on weight. Eat a lot just like their father. You’ll see them soon. Now enough of that. I come I don’t know how many light years to supervise this operation because it seems to have ground to a full stop. And what do I find? My two agents have had enough and have deserted the planet of their assignment and meet me here in orbit—even though said planet is clamped beneath the iron heel of the Cliaand. Explain.”
“We have won.”
“No jokes, diGriz. I can have you shot.”
“You won’t hurt me, you have too much invested in my hide. And I meant what I said. We have won. Burada, clamped under the iron heel, doesn’t know it yet. The Cliaandian clampers don’t know it yet. Just we privileged few.”
“I’m not one of that happy number. Talk faster.”
“A demonstration is in order. Angelina my sweet, do you have our little toy?”
She opened a box next to her chair and handed over the Thing. It was smooth and black and no bigger than my hand. There were small openings on its bottom and at each end, while one end had a cluster of tiny lenses as well. I held it out to Inskipp who looked at it suspiciously.
“Do you know what this is?” I said.
“No. And I can’t say that I really care to.”
“This is the tombstone on the grave of all the Cliaandian expansionist ambitions. What type of space vessel is this we are aboard?”
“A light destroyer, Gnasher class. And what relevancy does that have?”
“Patience, and all will be revealed.”
I next took the small control box from Angelina and inserted the end of the spiked rod projecting from it into the matched opening in the Thing. Then I tapped out the serial number for Gnasher class destroyers on the keyboard. With the control box still attached I carried the Thing to the lounge exit where we could see the bulky disc of the main airlock. Angelina followed, leading the protesting Inskipp.
“We must imagine,” I said, “that this ship is on the ground and that the lock is open. All airlocks open sooner or later and when they do the Thing is waiting. And so is the operator, watching from up to three kilometers away. The lock opens and he activates the Thing. It soars straight at the open lock through it, and—”
I pressed the go button and it went. Tiny jets screamed and it darted off like an impassioned hummingbird, down the hallway towards the stem.
“After it!” I shouted and led the way at a dead run.
We caught up with it two decks down where it had been stopped by a closed door—but not stopped for long. The thermal lance in the Thing’s nose burned a quick hole through the metal and it was off again. When we reached the engine room it had almost eaten its way through this thicker door and there was just time to throw the door open as it went through. It zoomed once around the room as though getting its bearings, so small and fast it was almost impossible to follow, then it dived.
Right at the warpdrive generator where it exploded in a puff of black smoke.
“A harmless smoke charge,” I said. “To be replaced in field operation by high explosive, more than enough to destroy the warpdrive generator, yet small enough not to cause any other damage. A humane weapon indeed.”
“You’re mad.”
“Only at the Cliaand and the gray men for pursuing this futile war. If we can go back for that drink now I’ll tell you how it is going to be stopped.”
Comfortably seated, throat cooled, I explained.
“I personally polished off the warpdrive generators in nine of the Cliaand ships, just to see if it could be done and if there would be any unusual problems in ship design or construction. There were none. Cliaandian ships are just like other ships, only more so since they like a good deal of uniformity which makes our job that much easier. The Thing has been designed to do that job. The Thing operator can sit at his ease outside of a spaceport, watching the Cliaand ships through high powered glasses. When the observed ship opens its port the Thing strikes. The operator must merely aim it, feed in the type of ship, and start it on its way. The Thing has a molecular level memory bank and computer circuitry. It zeroes in on the ship at high speed, finds the port and enters and then, using its programmed knowledge of the vessel’s interior, it makes its way to the engine room, stopping for nothing. Where it blows up the warpdrive generator. End of the Cliaand invasion.”
“End of one warpdrive generator,” Inskipp said, a sneer in his voice. “They order up another one and that is that.”
“That is not that. Generators are complex and not easy to build. There are very few factories that turn them out because most people are satisfied to buy them from someone else. I am sure the Cliaand have at least one factory, but that can be found and knocked out from
space.”
“So they get one from the warehouse.”
“There is a limit to the number they can have, and quite soon the warehouse will be empty. Because we are going to have agents on every planet now ruled by the Cliaand and they are going to blow up every warpdrive generator on every ship on those planets. We won’t have to go anywhere near the home planet. The warpdrive will be knocked out of cargo ships, war ships, any and all within the Cliaand area of control. Nor will they be able to get any from the outside since this is one embargo that it will be easy for the Corps and the cooperating planets to enforce. End of an empire.”
“How?”
“Think, Inskipp, age couldn’t have withered your brain as much as your leathery hide. Angelina gave me the clue. The Cliaandians must keep expanding or perish. They don’t have enough food or raw materials on their single planet to carry on this kind of continual expansion. So they conquer a planet, put it to work on their behalf, then restored and re-supplied go on to bigger and better things. Only not any more. They still have the planets and the materials—but what good are they if they can’t be transported to where they are needed? The expansion will have to stop, and as the ships grow scarce they will have to pull back. Further and further back until they are on their home planet again and that will be the end of that. Any single planet can support itself with raw materials and food, at least enough to survive. But an empire cannot survive with its trade arteries cut. I give them a year, no more, before Cliaand is just another backwater planet with a lot of guys in uniforms and out of jobs. When it is all over normal trade can be started again. A year at the outside. What do you think.”
“I think you did it again, my boy, as I knew you would.”
He beamed at me and I winked at Angelina and we drank to that.
Chapter 22
We were standing at the inner lock, ready to disembark from the spaceship, when one at the pursers hurried over and handed me a psigram. Angelina blasted it with a withering look.
“Tear it up.” she said. “If that is from foul Inskipp canceling the one little vacation we have ever had…”
“Relax,” I said, glancing through it quickly. “Our holiday is still safe. “This is from Taze…”
“If that topheavy hussy is still chasing you she is in for trouble.”
“Have no fear, my love. The communication is of a political nature. The results of the first election to be held since the Cliaandian withdrawal are in. The men’s Konsolosluk party has been swept from office and the girls are back at the helm. Taze has been appointed Minister of War, so I don’t think future invasion will be as easy as the last. The psigram further states that we have both been awarded the Order of the Blue Mountains, First Class, and there will be much ceremony and medal pinning when next we get to Burada.”
“Just see you don’t try going there on your own. Slippery Jim.”
I sighed as the massive outer lock of the spaceship ground open and the militant oompah of band music was carried in by the outside air. The sky was clear and empty of anything other than the puffy white clouds and a copter towing a banner that read WELCOME WELCOME.
“Very nice,” I said.
“Urgh urgh,” Bolivar said, or something like that, or was it James who had spoken? They were hard to tell apart and Angelina took a very antipathetic view towards my suggestion that we paint a B on one little forehead and J on the other. Just for a while. She bent over their tiny forms in the robopram, tucking in blankets and doing other unessential maternal things. Only I knew that she had a gun in her girdle and a knife in the nappies. My Angelina is just as motherly as any female tiger: she takes care of her cubs but also keeps her claws sharp just in case. Pity the poor kidnapper who tried to swipe the diGriz babies!
“That’s an improvement over the usual rattling escalator,” I said, pointing to the platform outside.
A shipyard repair stage had been polished and decorated with flags and turned into a passenger elevator. It not only held all the people disembarking but there was plenty of room left over for the military band. Who were now thumping and trumpeting and generally having a good time. We strolled out onto the platform and the robopram rolled after us. James—or was it Bolivar?—tried to hurl himself out of it but a padded tentacle pushed him back to the pillows.
“It doesn’t look so bad,” Angelina said, looking out across the spaceport to the city while the stage slowly descended. “I can’t understand what you were complaining about.”
“Let’s say the reception was a bit different last time I was here. Isn’t that a pleasant sight?”
I pointed to the row upon row of abandoned spaceships, the streaks of rust on their sides visible even from here.
“Very nice,” she said, not looking, tucking in an infant that the robopram had already done an excellent job on. Like all new fathers I was more than a little jealous of the attention lavished on the kiddies, and I looked forward to the next joint assignment when I might get a little closer to center stage in her affections. I was being broken to the marriage harness and, despite my basic loathings and thrashings, was beginning to enjoy it.
“Isn’t that dangerous?” Angelina asked as we reached the ground and the double row of soldiers of the honor guard snapped to attention with a resounding crash and clatter. There must have been at least a thousand of them and each one was armed with a gaussrifle.
“Weapons have been incapacitated, that was part of the agreement.”
“But can we trust them?”
“Absolutely. One thing they know how to do is take orders.”
We strolled on towards the reception buildings, between the rows of gaudy glittering soldiers, erect as statues with their rifles at present arms.
“I’ll show you,” I said and led her over to the nearest soldier while the pram turned to follow us. He was tall, erect, big-jawed, steel-eyed, everything a soldier should be.
“Right shoulder-HARMS!” I barked in my best parade ground manner. He obeyed instantly with a great deal of snappy exactitude. Gray haired too, he must have been at the game for a long time.
“Inspection… wait for it… HARMS!”
He snapped the weapon down across his chest and with a double clack-clack opened the inspection port and extended the rifle. I seized it and looked inside the receiver. Spotless. I held it up to the sky and looked down the barrel and saw only unrelieved blackness.
“There’s something blocking the barrel.”
“Yes, sir. Orders, sir.”
“What is it?”
“Lead, sir. Melted it and poured it in myself.”
“An excellent weapon. Carry on trooper.” I hurled it back at him and be caught and rattled it efficiently. There was something about him.
“Don’t I know you, trooper?”
“Perhaps, sir, I’ve done duty on many planets. I was a colonel once.
There was a distant glint in his eyes when he said this, but it quickly faded. Of course. I hadn’t recognized him without his beard. He was the officer that Kraj had watching me, who tried to shoot me when we first landed on Burada.
“I knew that man, high ranking officer,” I told Angelina as we strolled on.
“Very little chance for that kind of work now. He should be happy he has a job that keeps him out in the fresh air. It’s amazing that they all seem to be taking it so well.”
“They have little choice. When their empire collapsed they flocked back here to Cliaand—and found out that all their mineral and power resources had been exhausted during the invasion years and they had never noticed it. So it was either farm or go hungry. I understand that the agriculture is going just fine right now. And the gray men are gone, Inskipp sent agents in and found they had all packed up and left. To cause trouble elsewhere I suppose. We are going to have to track them to their home planet one of these days.”
“Nasty people. That’s where a globe-buster bomb would do some good.”
“Not in front of the children,” I said, patting her
hand. “You don’t want them to get wrong thoughts about their mother.”
“They’ll get some right ones. And I’m still suspicious of these ex-warrior types.”
“Don’t be. We had political agents in here after the breakdown. Issuing orders and orders are one thing they know how to take. All things considered they have been quite good about it.”
Angelina sniffed, still not convinced. “I wonder what bright boy thought up the tourist routine—and suggested we come on the first tour ship?”
“I did. Guilty on both counts. And don’t look daggers at me. They need something that will keep them busy and bring in foreign exchange and that sort of thing, and tourism is about all a planet without resources can manage. They have swimming and skiing and all the usual things, plus a deadly sort of fascination for the people they once invaded. It will work out, you just wait and see.”
Hordes of uniformed porters jostled for our baggage, then led the way with the bags to the surface transportation. Things had changed mightily since my first visit to this planet. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, too. I don’t think they were ever cut out to be a warrior race and interstellar conquerors. For old times’ sake I had registered us at the Zlato-Zlato where I had first stayed, still the most luxurious hotel in town. The doorman’s manners were far better this time and the desk clerk even bowed as we came up.
“Welcome to Cliaand, General and Mrs. James diGriz and sons. May your stay here be an enjoyable one.”
Traveling with a title always helps, even more so on this world. I looked around the lobby and then at the clerk.
“Otrov! Is that you?” I said. He bowed again.
“I am Otrov, indeed sir, but I am afraid you have the better of me.”
“Sorry. Couldn’t expect you to recognize me with my own face, or a reasonable facsimile. The last time you talked to me you thought I was a creature named Kraj, and before that you knew me as Vaska Hulja.”
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