“That’s true.” She nibbled at her lip. “But listen. I’m a psychic. It runs in the women of some families, you know, being… well, what most people call witches, kind of. My talent isn’t fully developed yet, but mother and I together could witch-wish at him to come back here as fast as he can and I’m sure he would.”
The soldier’s face showed quite plainly what he thought of the idea, but Prenk nodded — if more than somewhat dubiously. “I’ve heard of that ‘witch-wishing’ business, and that it sometimes works. So go home right now and get at it, Kay-Lee, and give it everything you and your mother both can put out.”
Kay-Lee went home forthwith and went into executive session with her mother; a handsome, black-haired woman of forty-odd. “And I have positive identification,” the girl concluded. “His blood was all over the place — positively quarts of it — and I saved some just in case.” And, of course, she had — prudently, wisely and, as it turned out, luckily for all concerned!
The older woman’s face cleared. “That’s good. Without a positive, I’m afraid it would be hopeless at what the distance probably is by this time. Run and get the witch-holly, dear, while I fix the incense.”
They each ate seven ritually preserved witch-holly berries and inhaled seven deep drafts of aromatic smoke. While they were waiting for the powerful drugs to take effect, Kay-Lee asked, “How much of this rigamarole is chemistry, do you suppose, mother, and how much is just hocus-pocus?”
“No one knows. Some day, whatever it is that we have will be recognized as having existence and will be really studied. Until then, all we can do is follow the ancient ritual.”
“I think I’ll talk to Ky-El about it. But listen. Witches with any claim at all to decency simply don’t put geases on people. But what if he’s so far away that we can’t reach him any other way?”
The older woman frowned, then said, “In that case, my dear, we’ll never, never tell anyone a thing about it.”
23. RE-SETTING OF THE PREMIER
As the Skylark of Valeron approached Galaxy DW-427LU, Dorothy said, “Dick, I suppose it’s occurred to you more than once that I’m not much of a woman.”
“You aren’t? I’d say’ you’d do until the real thing showed up.” Seaton, who had been thinking of the problem of synchronization instead of his wife, changed voice instantly when he really looked at her and saw what a black mood she was in. “You’re the universe’s best, is all, ace. I knew you were feeling a little low in your mind, but not… listen, sweetheart. What could possiby make you think you aren’t the absolute top?”
She did not answer the question. Instead, “What do you think you’re going to get into this time?”
“Nothing much, I’m sure. Prenk’s probably running out of ammunition. We can make more in five minutes than he can in five years.”
“I’m sure that isn’t it. You’re going into personal danger again and I’ll be expected to sit up here in the Skylark eating my heart out wondering if you’re alive or dead. You don’t see Sitar going through that with Dunark.”
“Wait up, sweetheart. Mores and customs, remember?”
“Mores and customs be damned! Do you remember exactly what Sitar said and exactly how she said it? Did it sound like mores and customs to you? Was there any element whatever of suttee in it?”
“But listen, Dottie—” He took her gently in his arms.
“You listen!” she rushed on. “If he dies she doesn’t want to keep on living and she won’t. And she doesn’t care who knows it. Maybe it started that way — society’s sanction but that was her personal profession of faith. And I feel the same way. If you die I don’t want to keep on living and won’t. So next time I’m going with you.”
Being an American male, he could not accept that without an argument. “But there’s Dickie,” he said.
“There are also her three children on Osnome. I learned something from her about what the basic, rock-bottom attitude of a woman toward her man ought to be. Even from little Lotus. She’s no bigger than a minute and a half, but what did she do? So while we’re having this moment of truth let’s be rock-bottom honest with each other for the first time in our lives instead of mouthing the platitudes of our society. I’m not a story-book mother, Dick. If it ever comes right down to a choice, you know how I’ll decide and how long it will take!”
Seaton could not get in touch with Ree-Toe Prenk, of course, until the Valeron was actually inside Galaxy DW427-LU; but as soon as communication could be established Kay-Lee Barlo asked eagerly, “You did get our thought, then, Ky-El? Mother’s and mine? We didn’t feel that we were quite reaching you.”
“Not exactly,” Seaton replied. “I didn’t get any real thought at all; just a feeling that I ought to be going somewhere that bothered me no end until I headed this way. But since it was you people calling, I’m mighty glad I got what little I did.”
The Skylark went into orbit around Ray-See-Nee and the Skylarkers climbed into a landing-craft that Seaton had designed and built specifically for the occasion. It was a miniature battleship — one of the deadliest fighting ships of its size and heft ever built.
And this time the whole party was heavily armed. Dunark and Sitar were in full Osnomian panoply of war. Dorothy wore a pair of her long-barrelled .38 target pistols in leg-holsters under her bouffant skirt. Even little Lotus wore two .25 automatics. “I don’t know whether I can hit anybody with one of these or not,” she had said while Dorothy was rigging her. “I’d much rather work hand to hand. But if they’re too far away to get at I can at least make a lot of noise and look like I’m doing something.”
They were met at the spaceport by two platoons of the Premier’s Guard, led by Captain-General Sy-By Takeel himself. They were guarded like visiting royalty from the spaceport to the Capitol Building and up into the Room of State, where they were greeted with informal cordiality by Prenk and by Kay-Lee, who was now an Exalted of the Thirty-Fifth, besides being First Deputy Premier.
Prenk seated his guests, not on stools in front of and below his throne-like desk, but at a long conference table with Seaton as its head. The two lieutenants posted guards outside the two immense doors at the far end of the vast room and stationed the rest of their men in position to cover both entrances. Takeel, with velvet slippers over his field-boots, stood on Prenk’s desk, commanding the entire room, with a machine-gun-like weapon cradled expertly and accustomedly in the crook of his left arm.
“Are things this bad?” Seaton asked. “I knew it was tough when you told us to come loaded for bear — but this?”
“They’re exactly this bad. These two—” Prenk jerked a thumb at Kay-Lee and at Takeel — “are the only two people on this whole world that I know I can trust. Until quite recently I was sure I held the city — but now I’m not at all sure of holding even this building. I can only hope that you’re not too late. I’ll tell you what the situation is; then you will tell me, please, if there is anything you can do about it.”
He talked for twelve minutes. Then:
“P-s-s-s-st!” Kay-Lee hissed. “Danger! Coming — nearing us — fast! I can feel it — taste it — smell it! Get ready quick!” She sprang to her feet, drew her pistol, and arranged a dozen clips of cartridges meticulously on the table in front of her.
The Osnomians’ chairs crashed backward, their heavy coats flew off, and they stood tensely ready, machine pistols in all four hands. And, seconds later, the other Skylarkers were on their feet and ready too. The Captain-General had not heard the low-voiced warning, but he had seen the action and that was enough. Trigger-nerved Dunark’s chair had no sooner struck the floor on its first bounce than Takeel was going into his shooting stance, with his weapon flipping around into firing position as though it were sliding in a greased groove; the while glaring ferociously at his senior lieutenant — who thereupon began to have an acute attack of the jitters.