He grinned, and it unsettled her a bit. At that moment an alarm rang, and a speaker broke in to state, “Administrator Kunser docking at Gate Three.”
Fallen frowned. “Damn! What does he want up here now, of all times?”
“Why don’t we go see?” he suggested. “In fact, I called him to come up. I’m representing the Four Lords in Council, with three votes already taken, and I’m here to arrange things with the fourth. Why don’t we go collect him and we can all save time and see the First Minister at once.”
She frowned. “Okay, but I still think you’re nuts.”
Kunser was as puzzled as Fallen, but right now, dependent on the goodwill of the other Lords, he was in no position to disobey an official request. He was surprised to see Carroll, though, although somewhat pleased. The agent could almost read his mind. Morah’s getting rid of his only threat this way. But both he and Fallen were civil to the agent, and that was for the best. Both seemed interested in what would happen when Carroll met Ypsir, though.
To everyone’s surprise, Ypsir, in a spacious office, was ell smiles and cordiality, the politician supreme. In a corner, on satin pillows, reclined the stunning Ass.
“Well, now, what’s all this about a vote and my computer?”, the First Minister wanted to know.
‘They need it. Its capacity is probably the largest in the Diamond, and it’s doing nothing but running this station right now,” he told them. “The fact is, this station can be maintained on a much smaller and more basic model Cerberus can and will supply. There are few manufactured goods right now, and we need them desperately. The picket ship is being quickly outfitted, but it’s going to need your computer to control the industry we’re putting into her. Nothing else will do the job, and we can’t make any more major computers until we have the picket running.”
“They had then: nerve, voting without me,” Ypsir complained.
He shrugged. “We tried. You didn’t answer the call. That’s why Morah sent me here.”
Ypsir smiled. One of the reasons, he thought, in accord with his two assistants, but he said, “Well, I don’t like it but I’m hardly in a position to object at this point. One hopes that the Cerberan techs can do it without having to shut down this station.”
“I’m sure they can.”
“Have you met Ass?” Ypsir asked suddenly.
He smiled and nodded. “Yes, I have. In more ways than one, First Minister. You see, using the Metron Process, I was Tarin Bid.”
Talant Ypsir’s face broke into a wide grin that became a real belly laugh. “Oh, my, but that’s perfect! That’s wonderful!” he chortled.
‘The matter of the computer is not the only reason I’m here,” Carroll added. “I’ve decided that I need a better position than errand boy for the Four Lords.”
Ypsir, savoring the irony, hardly heard him. Instead he turned to Ass and said, “Did you hear that, my pretty? You were once him!”
Showing puzzlement and confusion, she looked up at the agent, but. said nothing.
“Ass?” the agent called to her. “Do you know who these people are? This is Haval Kunser, and this is Shugah Fallen, and that is Talant Ypsir.”
Her eyes grew even larger, and her mouth dropped a bit, and then she frowned, shook her head, and looked up again.
“I decided I’d either be dead or the Lord of Medusans,” Carroll told her, but she wasn’t really listening to him.
Talant Ypsir’s head was torn from his body before the bodies of Fallen and.Kunser had hit the floor.
About the Author
JACK L. CHALKER was born in Norfolk, Virginia, on December 17, 1944, but was raised and has spent most of his life in Baltimore, Maryland. He learned to read almost from the moment of entering school, and by working odd jobs amassed a large book collection by the time he was in junior high school, a collection now-too large for containment in his quarters. Science fiction, history, and geography all fascinated him early on, interests that continue.
Chalker joined the Washington Science Fiction Association in 1958 and began publishing an amateur SP journal, Mirage, in 1960. After high school he decided to be a trial lawyer, but money problems and the lack of a firm caused him to switch to teaching. He holds bachelor degrees in history and English, and an M.L.A. from the Johns Hopkins University. He taught history and geography in the Baltimore public schools between 1966 and 1978, and now makes his living as a freelance writer. Additionally, out of the amateur journals he founded a publishing house, The Mirage Press, Ltd., devoted to nonfiction and bibliographic works on science fiction and fantasy. This company has produced more than twenty books in the last nine years. His hobbies include esoteric audio, travel, working on science-fiction convention committees, and guest lecturing on SF to institutions such as the Smithsonian. He is an active conservationist and National Parks supporter, and he has an intensive love of ferryboats, with the avowed goal of riding every ferry in the world. In fact, in 1978 he was married to Eva Whitley on an ancient ferryboat in mid-river. They live in the Catoctin Mountain region of western Maryland with their son David.
Table of Contents
From the back cover
Title Page
A Del Rey Book
Dedication
Author's Note
MAP
PROLOGUE: Beginning of the End Game
CHAPTER ONE: Rebirth
CHAPTER TWO: Transportation and Exposure
CHAPTER THREE: Orientation
CHAPTER FOUR: Workin’ on the Railroad
CHAPTER FIVE: A Friendly Chat with TMS
CHAPTER SIX: A Disloyal Opposition
CHAPTER SEVEN: Working Both Sides of the Street
CHAPTER EIGHT: The Wild Ones
CHAPTER NINE: The Demons of the Mount
CHAPTER TEN: The Goddess Medusa
CHAPTER ELEVEN: Saints Are Not Gods
CHAPTER TWELVE: Into the Lion’s Den
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: A Victim of Philosophy
Epilogue
About the Author
Medusa: A Tiger by the Tail Page 34
