In recent weeks Merseia had changed its tack and made totally unacceptable demands—for example, that civilian craft must be cleared by its inspectors before entering the Wilderness. “They know that’s ridiculous,” Flandry remarked. “Without fail, in politics that kind of claim has an ulterior purpose. It may be as little as a propaganda ploy for domestic consumption, or as much as the spark put to a bomb fuse.”
“A reason to bring their strength to bear—while most of the Empire’s is tied up at Spica—and maybe denounce the Covenant of Alfzar and occupy a key system in the Wilderness?” Kossara wondered.
“Could be … if Merseia is dispatching warships in this direction,” Flandry said. “The Imperium thinks not—thinks Dennitza concocted the whole business to justify mobilization. The Merseians would’ve been delighted to co-conspire, a behind-the-scenes arrangement with your uncle whereby they play intransigent at the conference. Any split among us is pure gain for them. From the Imperium’s viewpoint, Dennitza has done this either to put pressure on it—to get the disbanding decree rescinded and other grievances settled—or else to start an out-and-out rebellion.”
He puffed on his cigarette, latest of a chain. “From your uncle’s viewpoint—I assume he was honest with you about his opinions and desires—if he believes Merseia may be readying for combat, he dare not fail to respond. Terra can think in terms of settling border disputes by negotiation, even after several battles. Dennitza, though, will be under attack. A tough, proud people won’t sit still for being made pawns of. And given the accusations against them, the horrible word about you—how alienated must they not feel?”
The commentator had said: “Is it possible the connivance is between Emperor and Roidhun? Might part of a secret bargain be that Merseia rids the Imperium of troublesomely independent subjects? It would like to destroy us. To it, we are worse than a nuisance, we are the potential igniters of a new spirit within the Empire, whose future leadership may actually come from among us. On the Terran side, the shock of such an event would tend to unite the Empire behind the present bearer of the crown, securing it for him and his posterity … ”
Flandry said: “I’m pretty sure that by now, throughout the Dennitzan sphere of influence, a majority favors revolution. The Gospodar’s stalling, trying to bide his time in hopes the crisis will slack off before fighting starts. Wouldn’t you guess so, love? I suspect, however, if it turns out he doesn’t have to resist Merseia, he will then use his assembled power to try squeezing concessions from Terra. His citizens won’t let him abstain—and I doubt if he wants to. And … any wrong action on the part of the Imperium or its Navy, or any wrong inaction, anywhere along the line, will touch off rebellion.”
“Well go straight to him—” she began.
Flandry shook his head. “Uh-uh. Most reckless thing we could do. Who supplied those Intelligence reports that scared Miyatovich and his staff—reports contradicted by findings of my Corps in separate operations? If the Merseian fleet is making ominous motions, is this a mere show for the Dennitzan scouts they knew would sneak into then: space? How did the news about you get here so speedily, when the sale of one obscure slave never rated a word on any Terran newscast? Could barbarian activity in Sector Spica have been encouraged from outside, precisely to draw the Emperor there and leave his officers on this frontier to respond as awkwardly as they’ve done?”
He sighed. “Masks and mirages again, Kossara. The program we heard showed us only the skin across the situation. We can’t tell what’s underneath, except that it’s surely explosive, probably poisonous. Zorkagrad must be acrawl with Merseian undercover men. I’d be astonished if some of them aren’t high and trusted in the Gospodar’s councils, fending off any information they prefer he doesn’t get. Aycharaych’s been at work for a long time.”
“What shall we do?” she asked steadily.
Flandry’s glance sought for Dennitza. It should be visible here, soft blue against black. But the brightnesses which burned were too many. “Suppose you and I pay a covert visit on your parents,” he said. “From there we can send a household servant, seemingly on an ordinary errand, who can find a chance to slip your uncle a word. Meanwhile Chives lands at Zorkagrad port and takes quarters to be our contact in the city. Shalmuan spacers aren’t common but they do exist—not that the average person hereabouts ever heard of Shalmu—and I’ll modify one of our spare documentations to support his story of being an innocent entrepreneur just back from a long exploration, out of touch, in the Wilderness.”
“It seems terribly roundabout,” Kossara said.
“Everything is on this mission.”
She smiled. “Well, you have the experience, Dominic. And it will give us a little time alone together.”
XIV
First the planet loomed immense in heaven, clouds and ice lending it a more than Terran whiteness against which the glimpsed oceans became a dazzlingly deep azure. Then it was no longer ahead, it was land and sea far below. When Flandry and Kossara bailed out, it became a roar of night winds.
They rode their gravbelts down as fast as they dared, while the Hooligan vanished southward. The chance of their being detected was maybe slight, but not nonexistent. They need have no great fear of being shot at; as a folk who lived with firearms, the Dennitzans were not trigger-happy. However, two who arrived like this, in time of emergency, would be detained, and the matter reported to military headquarters. Hence Kossara had proposed descending on the unpeopled taiga north of the Kazan. The voivode of Dubina Dolyina must have patrols and instruments active throughout his district.
Even at their present distance from it, she and Flandry could not have left the vessel secretly in an aircraft. The captain of the picket ship which contacted Chives had settled for a telecom inspection of his papers, without boarding, and had cleared him for a path through atmosphere which was a reasonable one in view of his kinetic vector. Yet orbital optics and electronics must be keeping close watch until ground-based equipment could take over.
Hoar in moonlight, treetops rushed upward. The forest was not dense, though, and impact quickly thudded through soles. At once the humans removed their space-suits, stopping only for a kiss when heads emerged from helmets. Flandry used a trenching tool to bury the outfits while Kossara restowed their packs. In outdoor coveralls and hiking boots, they should pass for a couple who had spent a furlough on a trip afoot. Before they established camp for what remained of the night, they’d better get several kilometers clear of any evidence to the contrary.
Flandry bowed. “Now we’re down, I’m in your hands,” he said. “I can scarcely imagine a nicer place to be.”
Kossara looked around, filled her lungs full of chill sweet-scented air, breathed out, “Domovina”—home—and began striding.
The ground was soft and springy underfoot, mahovina turf and woodland duff. A gravity seven percent less than Terran eased the burden on backs. Trees stood three or four meters apart, low, gnarly, branches plumed blue-black, an equivalent of evergreens. Shrubs grew in between, but there was no real underbrush; moonlight and shadow dappled open sod. A full Mesyatz turned the sky nearly violet, leaving few stars and sheening off a great halo. Smaller but closer in than Luna, it looked much the same save for brilliance and haste. No matter countless differences, the entire scene had a familiarity eerie and wistful, as if the ghosts of mammoth hunters remembered an age when Terra too was innocent.