The Destroyers

by Randall Garrett

work, not farming."

  He knew Russat was embarrassed. The boy was nearly ten years youngerthan Anketam, but Anketam knew that his younger brother had more brainsand ability, as far as paper work went, than he, himself, would everhave. The boy (Anketam reminded himself that he shouldn't think ofRussat as a boy--after all, he was thirty-six now) had worked as aspecial secretary for one of the important chiefs in Algia for fiveyears now. Anketam noticed, without criticism, that Russat had grownsoft with the years. His skin was almost pink, bleached from years ofindoor work, and looked pale and sickly, even beside Memi's sun-brownedskin--and Memi hadn't been out in the sun as much as her husband had.

  * * * * *

  Anketam reached out and took the bottle carefully from his wife's hands.Her eyes watched him searchingly; she had been aware of the subtletiesof the exchange between her rough, hard-working, farmer husband and hisyounger, brighter, better-educated brother.

  Anketam said: "If this is a present, I guess I'd better open it." Hepeeled off the seal, then carefully removed the glass stopper andsniffed at the open mouth of the beautiful bottle. "Hm-m-m! Say!" Thenhe set the bottle down carefully on the table. "You're the guest, Russ,so you can pour. That tea ready yet, Memi?"

  "Coming right up," said his wife gratefully. "Coming right up."

  Anketam watched Russat carefully pour brandy into the cups of hot, spicytea that Memi set before them. Then he looked up, grinned at his wife,and said: "Pour yourself a cup, honey. This is an occasion. A bigoccasion."

  She nodded quickly, very pleased, and went over to get another cup.

  "What brings you up here, Russ?" Anketam asked. "I hope you didn't justdecide to pick up a bottle of your Chief's brandy and then take off." Hechuckled after he said it, but he was more serious than he let on. Heactually worried about Russat at times. The boy might just take it inhis head to do something silly.

  Russat laughed and shook his head. "No, no. I'm not crazy, and I'm notstupid--at least, I think not. No; I got to go up to Chromdin. My Chiefis sending word that he's ready to supply goods for the war."

  Anketam frowned. He'd heard that there might be war, of course. Therehad been all kinds of rumors about how some of the Chiefs were all forfighting, but Anketam didn't pay much attention to these rumors. In thefirst place, he knew that it was none of his business; in the secondplace, he didn't think there would be any war. Why should anyone pick onXedii?

  What war would mean if it did come, Anketam had no idea, but he didn'tthink the Chiefs would get into a war they couldn't finish. And, herepeated to himself, he didn't believe there would be a war.

  He said as much to Russat.

  His brother looked up at him in surprise. "You mean you haven't heard?"

  "Heard what?"

  "Why, the war's already started. Sure. Five, six days ago. We're at war,Ank."

  Anketam's frown grew deeper. He knew that there were other planetsbesides Xedii; he had heard that some of the stars in the sky wereplanets and suns. He didn't really understand how that could be, buteven The Chief had said it was true, so Anketam accepted it as he didthe truth about God. It was so, and that was enough for Anketam. Whyshould he bother himself with other people's business?

  But--_war_?

  Why?

  "How'd it happen?" he asked.

  Russat sipped at his hot drink before answering. Behind him, Memi movedslowly around the cooker, pretending to be finishing the meal,pretending not to be listening.

  "Well, I don't have all the information," Russat said, pinching hislittle short beard between thumb and forefinger. "But I do know that theChiefs didn't want the embassy in Chromdin."

  "No," said Anketam. "I suppose not."

  "I understand they have been making all kinds of threats," Russat said."Trying to tell everybody what to do. They think they run all ofCreation, I guess. Anyway, they were told to pull out right after thelast harvest. They refused to do it, and for a while nobody didanything. Then, last week, the President ordered the Army to throw 'emout--bag and baggage. There was some fighting, I understand, but theygot out finally. Now they've said they're going to smash us." Hegrinned.

  Anketam said: "What's so funny?"

  "Oh, they won't do anything," said Russat. "They fume and fuss a lot,but they won't do anything."

  "I hope not," said Anketam. He finished the last of his spiked tea, andMemi poured him another one. "I don't see how they have any right totell us how to live or how to run our own homes. They ought to mindtheir own business and leave us alone."

  "You two finish those drinks," said Memi, "and quit talking about wars.The food will be ready pretty quickly."

  "Good," said Anketam. "I'm starved." And, he admitted to himself, thebrandy and hot tea had gone to his head. A good meal would make him feelbetter.

  Russat said: "I don't get much of a chance to eat Memi's cooking; I'llsure like this meal."

  "You can stay for breakfast in the morning, can't you?" Anketam asked.

  "Oh, I wouldn't want to put you to all that trouble. I have to be up toyour Chief's house before sunrise."

  "We get up before sunrise," Anketam said flatly. "You can stay forbreakfast."

  II

  The spring planting did well. The rains didn't come until after theseedlings had taken root and anchored themselves well into the soil, andthe rows showed no signs of heavy bruising. Anketam had been watchingone section in particular, where young Basom had planted. Basom had atendency to do a sloppy job, and if it had showed up as bruised orpoorly planted seedlings, Anketam would have seen to it that Basom gotwhat was coming to him.

  But the section looked as good as anyone else's, so Anketam said nothingto Basom.

  Russat had come back after twenty days and reported that there was anawful lot of fuss in Chromdin, but nothing was really developing. Thenhe had gone on back home.

  As spring became summer, Anketam pushed the war out of his mind.Evidently, there wasn't going to be any real shooting. Except that twoof The Chief's sons had gone off to join the Army, things remained thesame as always. Life went on as it had.

  The summer was hot and almost windless. Work became all but impossible,except during the early morning and late afternoon. Fortunately, therewasn't much that had to be done. At this stage of their growth, theplants pretty much took care of themselves.

  Anketam spent most of his time fishing. He and Jacovik and some of theothers would go down to the river and sit under the shade trees, out ofthe sun, and dangle their lines in the water. It really didn't matter ifthey caught much or not; the purpose of fishing was to loaf and get awayfrom the heat, not to catch fish. Even so, they always managed to bringhome enough for a good meal at the end of the day.

  The day that the war intruded on Anketam's consciousness again hadstarted off just like any other day. Anketam got his fishing geartogether, including a lunch that Memi had packed for him, and gone overto pick up Blejjo.

  Blejjo was the oldest man in the village. Some said he was over ahundred, but Blejjo himself only admitted to eighty. He'd been retired along time back, and his only duties now were little odd jobs that wereeasy enough, even for an old man. Not that there was anything feebleabout old Blejjo; he still looked and acted spry enough.

  He was sitting on his front porch, talking to young Basom, when Anketamcame up.

  The old man grinned. "Hello, Ank. You figure on getting a few more fishtoday?"

  "Why not? The river's full of 'em. Come along."

  "Don't see why not," said Blejjo. "What do you think, Basom?"

  The younger man smiled and shook his head. "I'll stay around home, Ithink. I'm too lazy today to go to all that effort."

  "Too lazy to loaf," said Blejjo, laughing. "That's as lazy as I everheard."

  Anketam smiled, but he didn't say anything. Basom _was_ lazy, butAnketam never mentioned it unless the boy didn't get his work done.Leave that sort of kidding up to the others; it wasn't good for asupervisor to ride his men unless it was necessary for discipl
ine.

  Basom was a powerful young man, tall and well-proportioned. If the truthwere known, he probably had the ability to get a good job from TheChief--become a secretary or something, like Russat. But he was sloppyin his work, and, as Blejjo had said, lazy. His saving grace was thefact that he took things as they came; he never showed any resentmenttowards Anketam if he was rebuked for not doing his work well, and hehonestly tried to do better--for a while, at least.

  "Not too lazy to loaf," Basom said in self-defense. "Just too lazy