“Can you do that?”
She did not reply. He waited until he could stand the silence no more.
“Say yes or say no!”
“Yes!”
He took her in his arms and kissed her. She did not seem to be trying to imitate passion this time.
A doctor interrupted them and ordered her to get back to work. Two Hawks said, “Ilmika, if things go badly tomorrow, I’ll try to meet you in Lefswik. I’ll be shipping out to Dublin from there if we’re defeated here—and I expect we will be. I have plans for us, but there’s no time to talk about them. Meanwhile, I love you!”
Tears in her eyes, she whispered, “I love you. But, Roger, I’m afraid of tomorrow. What if I don’t ever see you again?”
“Then you won’t. But it’ll only be because I’ll be dead.”
She shivered.
“Don’t say that!”
“Everything should be said.”
He gave her a final kiss and walked away, returning the doctor’s glare with a smile. On the way back to his quarters, he was stopped by a noncom, who told him he was to report to the Protector. Wondering what Leonitha wanted of him, Two Hawks followed the noncom to the pavillion-tent. He had to identify himself to two officer-guards before he was admitted. This security precaution was necessary, since assassination of high-ranking officers was normal procedure in war. In fact, the Protector had narrowly escaped being killed two days before. One of the unsuccessful Perkunishans had shot himself in the head before he could be taken. The other was too seriously wounded to kill himself. When he regained consciousness, he was hung upside down over a bonfire.
16
In the tent, Two Hawks snapped to a salute before the Protector, seated behind a desk. His arm, however, did not fall back to his hip with the prescribed swiftness. Two Hawks was too astounded at sight of the man on a chair at the rear of the tent.
“Raske!”
The German grinned and waved airily.
“My old friend—and enemy—the red-skinned Two Hawks!” he said.
A beautiful blonde woman sat on another chair by Raske. She was richly dressed, and her neck, fingers, and arms glittered with gems. Two Hawks guessed at once that she was Persinai, daughter of the Kassandras.
The Protector explained their presence. A new Kassandras had been elected by the Grand Council. One of his first acts had been to order the arrest of Raske. The German was charged with the assassination of the heirs to the throne.
Raske had been one step ahead of him. He had talked the Kassandras’ daughter into running away with him. The two fled from Perkunisha in one of the new two-engined fighter planes. Raske landed at a field in Rasna (Earth 1’s France) and brazened his way through. He got his plane refueled, after which he got as far as a meadow on the eastern coast of northern England.
He and his bride were asking for sanctuary.
“I don’t know whether I should shoot him or listen to him,” the Protector said. “He’s worth nothing as a hostage and it’s too late to use his technical knowledge.”
Raske said, “If you can scrape up enough gas, I’ll fly Two Hawks to Ireland. Blodland will need both of us, since you will have to make a last stand there.”
Two Hawks said, “Ireland doesn’t have any gas, either. So what good could we do there?”
“I’ll tell you something the Perkunishans have been keeping very secret. There won’t be any invasion of Ireland until next year. Perkunisha has overextended itself. It’s committed so deeply on the mainland and here that it can’t launch another major campaign. Of course, Perkunisha will try to bluff. It’ll demand that the Blodlandish forces in Ireland unconditionally surrender. But if you refuse, if you hold out, you’ll have a year to make preparations. By then, you may have supplies, gas, oil, ammunition. I’ve been in touch with the Ikhwani. They’re willing to provide all Ireland needs. And they’ve no fear of the Perkunishan navy. They figure it’s been too weakened by its losses.”
Raske started to rise but was restrained by the guard behind him.
“If Two Hawks and I will give the Ikhwani all the information they need to build an air force, they’ll aid Blodland!”
The Protector spoke to Two Hawks. “Can we believe him?”
“Oh, yes, you can. I don’t doubt that he’s been dealing with Ikhwan, just in case he did have to run for his life. But all this about Ikhwan rearming and resupplying us in Ireland is hog-wash. Even if the Ikhwan dared to run battleships and freight ships to Ireland, they’d be blasted out of the waters. The Perkunishan air force would take care of that. No, there’s no hope from Ikhwan.”
“I thought so,” the Protector said. He spoke to Raske, “You’re going to the guardhouse while I decide what to do with you. Your wife will be lodged in a house, where she’ll be treated well. After all, she’s the Kassandras’ daughter. What happens to you, Raske, depends upon the outcome of the battle tomorrow. If we lose, Perkunisha will have you, and I suppose you’ll be shot on sight. If we win... well, I may shoot you. Because of you and your flying machines, Blodland is denied a chance to arm itself again in Ireland.”
As Raske was escorted from the tent, Two Hawks said, “Tough luck, my kraut friend. You lived high on the hog for a while, higher than you ever would have on Earth 1. Be content with that.”
Raske grinned back at him. “Red-skin, I’m not dead yet. I’ll see you later, that is, if you’re alive.”
Two Hawks watched him being marched off and thought that Raske’s words were more than bravado. Tomorrow’s battle might be Two Hawks’ last. As it turned out, it was almost—but not quite. Four times during the day, he was slightly wounded by shell fragments, by grenade fragments, and once by a bayonet during hand-to-hand combat. Dusk came, and with it the Blodlandish retreated northward. Two Hawks and Kwasind walked west, since they thought that the main part of the Perkunishan army would be streaming upland, hot for the kill.
“We could take to the hills and lead a miserable life as guerrilla fighters,” Two Hawks told Kwasind. “Eventually, if we didn’t starve, we’d get caught. So, it’s to the coast for us and a boat to Ireland. What the hell, we don’t owe these people anything! It’s not our fight; it’s not even my world. I’m getting to Hivika—somehow.”
They arrived at the port of Lefswik on the edge of the Irish Sea. Lefswik was crowded with refugees, all wanting to take passage on the four large steamers and the score of smaller ones. Two Hawks did not have much hope of being allowed on board unless he could find some important official to secure a berth for him. He had, however, not even gotten to the docks before he heard his name called. He turned to see the fat body of Humphrey Gilbert pushing through the crowds, Gilbert was smiling and waving a handful of papers.
“Two Hawks! My fellow Earthman! What luck! I’ve been looking for you, hoping that you’d show up, despite all the odds against your doing so! I can get you into my stateroom! You’ll have to sleep on the floor! But hurry! The ship leaves in thirty-five minutes! I’d just about given up all hope!”
“Did you see Ilmika Thorrsstein?” Two Hawks said.
“Did I see her?” the fat man jumped up and down in glee. “She’s in my stateroom, too! She... never mind... she came looking for you, and she’s all right! Lovers reunited, joy requited, and all that!”
Two Hawks was too happy to reply. He heard only half of Gilber’s chatter. They were stopped at the bottom of the gangplank where an official took an exasperating amount of time going over the papers. He did not, however, give them an argument. If he had, he would have found himself thrown into the water by Kwasind’s huge hands. Two Hawks would have stormed the ship to get to Ilmika, a foolish move, since the marines at the upper end of the gangway would have shot him down.