"Don't fool yourself, girl. Hannah, I mean. There are more conquerors than you know."
And they talked for another hour, and then Mother remembered there was work to do, and sent the girl away.
"Good job, Hannah. Like a trouper."
"It wasn't bad," the girl said. "I like her."
"She's a nice old lady," Dent laughed.
"She is," Hannah said defensively.
Nab looked her in the eye. "She's personally murdered more than a score of men. And arranged for the deaths of hundreds of others. Not counting wars."
Hannah looked angry. "Then they deserved to die!"
He smiled. "She still weaves the old webs, doesn't she? She caught you well. It doesn't matter. You're on somec now, three years early. Enjoy yourself. Only one woman in every five years gets to meet Mother. And you can't tell anyone about it."
"I know," she said. And then, inexplicably, she cried. Perhaps because she had come to love Mother in that hour of conversation. Or perhaps because there were no horses for her to ride, and herfirst time had been in her parents' bedroom when they were' away for an evening. Stolen, not freely taken in sunlight on a cliff. She wondered what it was like to be at a cliff. She imagined standing on one, looking down. But it was so far below her. Meters and meters down. In her imagination she shied away. Cliffs were for ancient times.
"So you are Abner Doon."
He nodded. His hand did not tremble. He merely looked at her steadily. His eyes looked deep. She was a little disturbed. She was not used to being looked at so easily. She could almost imagine that his gaze was friendly.
"I understand you thought of the clever plan to colonize planets behind the enemy's holdings."
Abner smiled. "It seemed more productive than wiping out the human race."
"A war fought by outbuilding the enemy. I must say, the idea is novel." She leaned her head against her hand, wondering why she didn't want to go to the attack with this man. Perhaps because she liked him. But she knew herself better than that, knew that she hadn't attacked because she wasn't yet sure where his weakness was. "Tell me, Abner, how extensive the enemy's holdings are."
"About a third of the settled planets," Doon answered.
Dent was startled, then furious. "He told her! He just told her! The chancellor's going to have his head."
Nab only smiled. "No one's going to have his head. I don't know how he figured it out, but he and that girl, Hannah-- they both understand the bitch. The rule is be accurate, even when you lie."
"He's undoing everything!"
"No, Dent. The other ministers undid themselves. Why should he shoot himself down along with them? The shrimp is smarter than I thought."
She kept Doon with her for fifteen minutes-- unheard of, when full ministers rarely got an audience of longer than ten. And the chancellor was outside cooling his heels.
"Mr. Doon, how can you bear being so incredibly short?"
Doon was finally taken by surprise, and she felt a small sense of victory.
"Short?" he asked. "Yes, I suppose I am. Well, it isn't anything I have control over. So I don't think about it."
"What do you have control over?"
"The assignments section of the ministry of colonization," he answered.
She laughed. "That isn't a complete list, is it, Mr. Doon?"
He cocked his head. "Do you really want an answer to that?"
"Oh, yes, Mr. Doon, I do."
"But I won't give an answer, Mother. Not here."
"Why not?"
"Because there are two men in the control room listening to everything we say and recording everything we do. I'll talk freely to you when there isn't an audience."
"I'll command them to stop listening."
Doon smiled.
"Oh. I see. I may reign, but I don't always rule, is that what you're saying? Well, we'll see about that. Lead me to the control room."
Doon got up, and she followed him out of the room.
"Nab! Nab, he's bringing her here! What do we do?"
"Just act natural, Dent. Try not to throw up on the looper."
The door to the control room opened, and Doon ushered Mother into the room. "Good afternoon, gentlemen," she said.
"Good afternoon, Mother. I'm Nab, and this petrified mass of terror is my assistant, Dent."
"So you're the ones who listen in and answer my every request."
"As much as possible, of course." Nab was the image of confidence.
"Monitors. Television! How quaint!"
"It was decided hololoops wouldn't be appropriate."
"Bullshit, Nab," Mother said sweetly. "This is a looper right here."
"Just for the historical record. No one ever watches it. "
"I'm glad to know how closely I'm observed. I'll be more careful how I arrange my body in the morning." She turned to Doon. "Is there anywhere that we can meet where the birds won't be watching from the trees?"
"Actually," Doon answered, "I have the only place on Crove where the birds do watch from the trees. "
She looked shocked. "Real ones?"
"Complete with droppings. You have to watch where you step."
Her voice was husky with eagerness. "Lead me! Take me there!" And she whirled on Nab and Dent. "And you two. I want this looper out of here. You can listen and you can watch, but there is to be no permanent record. Do you understand?"
Nab agreed pleasantly. "It'll be done before you return."
She sneered at him. "You have no intention of doing it, Nab. Do you think I'm a fool?" And she went out the other door, which Doon was holding open.
When the door swung shut, Dent gagged and retched into a wastebasket. Nab watched unconcernedly. "You haven't learned anything, have you, Dent? She's nothing to be afraid of."
Dent only shook his head and wiped his lips. Stomach acid burned in his sinuses and throat.
"Go get the technicians. We have to hook the looper up somewhere else. And have some phony spots ripped out of the wall, so that workmen will be repairing when they get in. It has to look like the lasers have been removed. Hurry it up, boy!"
Dent stopped at the door. "What are they going to do to this Doon?"
"Nothing. Mother likes him. We'll simply use him to, keep her happy later on. The man's a nonentity. "
Mother could sense Doon's increasing pleasure as they went (under heavy guard) through corridors that had been cleared before them, until finally they were at a door where Doon told the Little Boys to go wait elsewhere.
"This had better be good, Doon," Mother said, knowing from the way he acted that it would be good.
"It'll be worth the walk. Though you used to walk much farther than this in your childhood," he said.
"Kilometers and kilometers," she said. "What a wonderful word. It even sounds like going up hills and down them again. A traveling word. Kilometers. Show me this place Where the birds sing from the trees."
And Doon opened the door.
She walked in briskly, then slowed, then stopped. And after a moment she began walking briskly among the trees, pausing only to strip off her shoes and dig her bare toes into the grass and the dirt. A bird fluttered past her. A breeze spun her hair out like a fan. She laughed.
Laughing, she leaned against a tree, put her hands on the bark, slid down the tree, sat in the grass. The sun shone brightly above her.
"How did you do it? How did you hold this spot of earth? When I last touched ground like this, I was twenty, and it was one of the few parks left on Capitol!"
"It isn't real," Doon,answered. "The trees and birds and grass are real enough, of course, but the sky is a dome and the sun is artificial. It can tan you, though."