(4/15) The Golden Age of Science Fiction Volume IV: An Anthology of 50 Short Stories

by Various

  Sonig raised his eyebrows. "You imply a created incident, sir?"

  "It doesn't matter," Val Boran said. His tone was as grim as his face and it was obvious he did not believe Rockford's explanation. "Colony City is a field of fused glass, now, its people are gone, and no amount of debating can ever bring them back."

  * * * * * * * * *

  The dismal dinner was finally over. Rockford stopped outside the door of their cabin to fill and light his pipe.

  "It was a profitable evening," he said to Hunter. "I can start planning in detail now--after a little beer, that is."

  He'll go to sleep after he drinks his beer, Hunter thought, and there will never be any plan unless I--

  Soft footsteps came up the path behind them. It was Princess Lyla.

  "I want to apologize," she said, "I just told Val ... Mr. Boran the same thing."

  Her face was a pale oval in the starlight, her eyes dark shadows. "I'm sorry my husband mentioned the New Jardeen incident."

  "That's all right, Lyla," Rockford said. "No harm was done."

  "He's an ex-military man, and I guess it's his nature to be more forthright than tactful."

  "You certainly can't condemn him for that," Rockford said. "In fact, he's an extraordinary teller of entertaining stories. It was a most enjoyable evening."

  * * * * *

  "And, in a way, it was," Rockford said when she was gone and they were in the cabin. He was seated in the softest chair, a can of beer in his hand, as usual.

  Hunter thought of the way she had looked in the starlight and said, "Why did she let that windbag sit at the head of the table and ruin the meeting that she had arranged?"

  "He'll soon be her husband--I suppose she feels she should be loyal to him."

  "But--"

  "But what?"

  "Nothing. It's none of my business."

  "Oh?" Rockford smiled in a way Hunter did not like. "You think so, eh?"

  Hunter changed the subject. "Are you going to start talking to Boran to undo the damage Narf and Sonig have done?"

  "It would be a waste of time, my boy. Val Boran's mind is already made up."

  "Then what are you going to do?"

  "Drink six cans of beer and go to sleep."

  "I thought you had a plan."

  "I have, a most excellent plan."

  "What is it?"

  "You'd scream like a banshee if you knew. You'll learn--if you manage to live that long."

  Rockford was sound asleep an hour later, snoring gently. Hunter sat thinking, hearing the steady murmur of a voice coming from Val Boran's cabin. Sonig's voice--using every means of persuasion he could think of, at the moment capitalizing on the New Jardeen incident and Boran's withheld grief over the sister he had lost.

  And the Terran Republic's representative was sprawled fat and mindless in a fog of beer fumes.

  Hunter hesitated no longer. The fate of Earth and the Terran Republic hung in the balance and time was desperately limited--if there was now any time at all.

  He took paper and pen and began the urgent message to Supreme Command, headed, TOP EMERGENCY. It would be sent via Hyperspace Communications from the city and would span the hundred light-years within seconds.

  * * * * *

  He was up before Rockford the next morning, and went out into the bright sunlight. He looked hopefully for Alonzo, not wanting to be seen mailing the letter in person. Rockford, despite his drunken stupors, could be shrewdly observant and he might deduce the contents of the letter before Supreme Command ever received it.

  He was some distance from the cabin when he heard the pound of padded feet behind him.

  "Rootenant," Alonzo had the grin of a genial canine idiot. "Do you want me to mair your retter to your dear ore mother?"

  "Yes, I have the letter right here."

  "O.K. I got to hurry, because the mair hericopter reaves right away. I charge six fig cookies or three candy bars or--"

  "Here--take it and run--and try not to slobber all over it."

  * * * * *

  They were served breakfast in the cabin. Afterward, Rockford went for a brief talk with Princess Lyla. He came back and settled down in the easy-chair, his pipe in his hand.

  "Your morning's duty won't be at all unpleasant," he said. "The obnoxious and repulsive things will begin to happen to you later. Maybe this afternoon."

  "What do you mean?"

  "This morning you will go for a walk with Princess Lyla and discuss changing the Vestan Space Guard into a force along Terran Space Patrol lines. Narf is still in bed, by the way."

  Rockford added, "I'll give you a bit of sage advice, for your own good--try not to fall in love with her."

  * * * * * * * * *

  Hunter and Princess Lyla sat together on the high hill, their backs against the red trunk of a cloud tree. On the mountain's slope to their right lay the dark and junglelike Tiger Forest--he wondered if it was true that the savage tree tigers never left its borders--while the toylike cabins of the camp were below them. The mountain's slope dropped on down to the deserts, beyond which were other mountains, far away and translucent azure.

  "It was George who suggested we come up here," she said. "He knows I do that often when the responsibilities of being queen of a world--I'm such an ordinary and untalented person--become too much for me. I always feel better when I sit up here and look down on the mountains and deserts."

  "Yes," he said politely.

  "A ruling princess can be so alone," she said. "That's why I appreciate George's friendship so much--it's never because of any ulterior motive but because he likes me."

  I'm going to use her, and you, to get what I want.

  He looked at her, at the lines of sadness on the face that was too old for its years, felt the way she was so grateful to Rockford for what was only a cold-blooded pretense of friendship, and the dislike for Rockford increased. He could not force himself to speak civilly of Rockford so he changed the subject:

  "I understand you wanted to talk to me about the Space Guard?"

  "Yes. Even a neutral world can't feel safe these days and George suggested that."

  "I'll be glad to help all I can. Of course, the change will require time."

  "I can understand that. They say you Space Patrol officers begin training at sixteen, after passing almost impossible qualification tests."

  "The tests can seem extremely difficult to a farm boy from Kansas. I--"

  "Kansas?" Her eyes lighted with interest. "My grandmother was from Kansas! She used to tell me about the green plains of grain in the spring, and how different they were from the deserts of Vesta...."

  It was almost noon when he took her hand and helped her to her feet, realizing guiltily that they had talked all morning without ever getting back to the cold, dry facts of military efficiency.

  "It was nice to talk up here this morning," she said. She looked down at the cabins and the shadow fell again across her face. "But nothing down there has been changed by it, has it?"

  He held to her hand longer than was necessary as they went down the steep part of the hill. She did not seem to mind.

  When they reached her cabin she said, "It's still a little while until lunch--time enough for you to give me a rough outline of the Space Guard change."

  Everything inside the cabin was feminine. None of Narf's possessions were visible. There was a heavy door leading into Narf's half of the cabin, with a massive lock. Hunter wondered if it was left unlocked at night, thought of Narf's sour face and leering little eyes, and found the thought repulsive.

  The answer to his conjecture came with the entrance of a servant as they seated themselves.

  "By your leave, your highness," the servant said, bowing, "I came to make Lord Narf a key for that inner door."

  "A key?" There was alarm in her tone. "But we're not married--not yet!"

  A puzzled expression came to the man's face. "Lord Narf told me, your highness, that you had ordered the duplicate key made and given to him befo
re evening. I found I could not do this without first borrowing your key for a pattern."

  There was a frightened look in her eyes as they went to the door and back to the servant. "No ... don't try to make a key!"

  "Yes, your highness." The servant bowed and turned away.

  A familiar gravelly voice spoke from behind them:

  "Ah ... an unscheduled little meeting, I see!"

  It was Narf, anger on his face, already within the doorway as the servant went out it.

  "We were going to talk about the Space Guard," Lyla said in an emotionless tone. "Lieutenant Hunter has promised to show how Space Patrol methods will improve it and--"

  "By a coincidence, Sonig and I were discussing military matters only a few minutes ago," Narf said. He looked at Hunter. "I'm afraid that Sonig and I agree that the Terran Space Guard is quite out of date, now. The fighting force of the galaxy is the Verdam's Peoples Guards."

  Narf spoke to Lyla, "You may go ahead and talk with this lieutenant if you wish to, but it's a waste of time. I'm arranging to have Sonig send Peoples Guards officers here to supervise the rebuilding of the Space Guard.

  "And now"--there was insinuation in Narf's tone as he spoke to Hunter--"I have to give Sonig a demonstration of my skill with weapons. He insists on it--he has heard of several of my modest feats."

  Narf left the door open behind him so that by turning his head as he walked, he could see the two inside.

  "I suppose I might as well go," Hunter said.

  Lyla did not answer. She sat motionless, staring unseeingly before her, and he wondered if she was thinking of how very soon Narf would be king and his authority as great as hers.

  She did not notice when he quietly left the room.

  * * * * * * * * *

  Rockford was waiting in the cabin, still in the easy-chair.

  "Well," Rockford said, "what do you think of her?"

  Hunter tried to keep the personal dislike out of his coldly formal reply:

  "If you refer to your suggestion that I not make love to her, sir, I can assure you that such a suggestion was never necessary. I happen to have a code of ethics."

  "I didn't say 'make love'. I said, 'fall in love'. That's quite ethical. Did you complete your discussion with her?"

  "Well ... no."

  "You must do that this afternoon, then. Can't let anything as important as that be delayed."

  Hunter stared at him, trying to find one small grain of sanity in Rockford's actions. The Verdam empire already had Jardeen within its grasp, and Vesta, and the end for Earth was inevitable. And Rockford slept, and drank beer, and regarded it as very important that the Vestan Space Guard discussions--of a change that Narf would never permit--be continued without delay.

  He walked slowly into his own room. In the nightmare situation of frustration there was one single sane and stable conviction for his mind to cling to: Supreme Command would by now have received his message and shot back the reply that would relieve Rockford of his command. Perhaps it wasn't yet too late--

  Then his mind reeled as a new conviction struck it.

  There was a sheet of paper on his bed--a message.

  His message!

  ... SITUATION EXTREMELY CRITICAL ... VAL BORAN ALREADY CONVINCED BY SONIG'S PROPAGANDA ... MUST REPORT ROCKFORD IS UTTERLY INCOMPETENT, HIS MIND AND WILL DESTROYED BY ALCOHOL ... REPEAT: ROCKFORD IS DOING NOTHING, HIS MIND DESTROYED BY ALCOHOL....

  The words screamed up at him and he felt the sickness of one who sees the last faint hope shattered and gone. All was lost, now....

  He went outside, feeling a savage desire for violence rising above the sickness.

  "Rootenant!" Alonzo came bounding to meet him and slid to a halt with his saucer feet scattering gravel and the idiotic grin on his face. "I mair your retter and you owe me six fig cook--"

  It occurred to Hunter that it was not Alonzo that should be punished. He, Hunter, was the one who deserved execution for ever entrusting anything so important as the message to an imbecilic animal.

  He said with cold distinctness:

  "The ... letter ... is ... inside."

  "Oh?" Alonzo blinked. "I sure mair something, awr right. After Mr. Rockford correct it."

  "Correct it?"

  "Oh, sure. Mr. Rockford, he up rong before you this morning to find me and say you are writing a retter rast night and I must bring it by for him to make awr your mistakes over again."

  So Rockford was watching all the time, pretending to be in a drunken sleep....

  "Rootenant--" Alonzo shifted his big feet impatiently. "You stirr owe me six fig--"

  Hunter swung around and strode away, afraid he might decide to choke the animal after all. A culture of twenty worlds was the same as already destroyed, and he was held in a maddening quagmire of helplessness by a crafty alcoholic and a dog with the mind of a small child.

  "Ah ... my boy!" Rockford came out of the cabin, beaming as though nothing had ever happened. "Look to your left, among those ghost trees--Narf is demonstrating his quick-draw skill to Sonig. Narf is supposed to be a very dangerous man, you know."

  Hunter looked, and saw Narf whipping up the blunt, ugly spread-beam blaster--known to soldiers as the Coward's Special, because at short range it could not miss and would always cripple and blind a man for life even though it would not always kill him. Sonig was standing by, nodding his weasel head and smiling in open admiration.

  "Of course," Rockford said, "Sonig isn't mentioning the needle gun all Verdam envoys carry up their sleeve. He's flattering Narf's ego for a reason--he intends to have Vesta, as well as Jardeen, sewed up for the Verdam empire when he leaves here."

  "And so far as I can see," Hunter said coldly, "Sonig never is going to have anything vaguely resembling intelligent resistance to his plans."

  "Ah, yes ... so far as you can see," Rockford agreed amiably. "But you obey my order to take Lyla for another walk and everything will turn out all right. In fact, I'll speak to her about that right now."

  Hunter stared after Rockford as he walked away. There could be no possible shred of doubt--Rockford was insane!

  The breeze shifted and the voice of Narf came:

  "... Certainly no weapon for a timid man, this spread-beam blaster. Have to meet the enemy man-to-man at close range."

  "In that respect, too," Sonig said, "you remind me of our great General Paluk. His skill in hand-to-hand combat was something that--"

  "Rootenant--"

  Hunter quivered and steeled himself.

  "Rootenant--" Alonzo came to a flopping halt beside him. "I terr Princess Ryra and she say I are bad to be mad at you. So I not mad, even if you didn't give me my pay."

  "Thank you," Hunter said acidly. "I was deeply disturbed by your resentment."

  "Oh, I know, you don't rike me. But I think you not as mean as you act. But Rord Narf--he is. I terr you, he awready mad enough to kirr you."

  "What? Lord Narf wants to kill me?"

  "Oh, he know you hord Princess Ryra's hand awrmost awr the way down the hirr this morning. Mr. Sonig, he see you, and he run and terr Rord Narf and Mr. Boran, too."

  "But I was only helping her down the hill."

  "Rord Narf, he are going to say mean things about it to Princess Ryra, too. I know. He are awrways saying mean things to my Princess Ryra."

  Alonzo sighed, a sound strangely humanlike in its sadness.

  "Who wirr watch over my Princess Ryra after she marry Rord Narf? He said, 'The first thing to go around here wirr be that stupid brabber-mouth animar that are not worth what it costs to feed it.' I think maybe he are afraid that if he ever hit my Princess Ryra, I wirr kirr him." The brown eyes looked up at Hunter, and suddenly they were unlike he had ever seen them; cold with deliberate decision. "I wirr, too."

  * * * * * * * * *

  Hunter was still standing by the cabin, thinking of what Alonzo had said, when Rockford returned.

  "I also stopped by to see Val Boran," Rockford said. "While you're off with Lyla, we'll go to
the city. Lyla is giving us free access to the Royal Library and the records of a neutral world carry more weight than anything I could say. Not that it's going to change his mind any--but it will give me a chance to work on him in another way."

  Rockford went into the cabin as Val Boran came up the path, Princess Lyla walking beside him. She was saying, "... And anything we have in the library is yours for the asking."

  They were close enough for Hunter to see her expression as she looked up at Val and added with what seemed a touch of wistfulness, "I'll be glad to go in with you and Mr. Rockford and do what I can to help if you want me to."

  "Lyla"--it was the grating voice of Narf who seemed to have the ability to materialize anywhere--"I'm sure the man knows his business. Besides, I want to talk to you about something as soon as I have finished my discussion with Mr. Sonig."

  With that, Narf started on toward his cabin. Sonig, close behind him, paused long enough to bow to Lyla and say with the meaningless smile, "Good afternoon, Princess Lyla. Your husband was just demonstrating his marvelous skill with weapons. I would very much dislike"--the little eyes darted to Hunter and back again--"being the man who aroused his lordship's wrath."

  Then Sonig followed Narf, with one last flickering glance at Hunter to see how the remark had fallen.

  Rockford came out of the cabin with his brief case and said to Val, "Are we ready to go?"

  "I just told Val"--Lyla spoke quickly--"that I would be glad to go along and help any way I can." The words were addressed to Rockford but her eyes were on Val, with the same wistful expression. "Do you want me to?"

  Val answered her with cool, formal courtesy: "The librarian can find all the records we will need, Princess Lyla, without our interrupting your schedule for the day or your discussion with your husband. Thank you very much."

  For an instant Lyla's face had the hurt expression of a child rebuffed without reason. Then she looked away and Val turned to Rockford and said, "I'm ready when you are, sir."

  Lyla watched them walk away and she was still watching when the helicopter had lifted into the air and faded from sight.

  Hunter hesitated, then spoke to her:

  "I understand you want to talk more about the Space Guard, Princess Lyla?"