A Terran went up a gangway, into the ship. His uniform was still, neat blue; emblemmed with insignia and sunburst. He still walked with precision. But his eyes scarcely left the weather-beaten, leather-kilted woman at his side, though she must be twenty years his senior. “There but for the grace of God,” Ridenour whispered.
Evagail, who had appeared mutely a few minutes ago, gave him a serious look. “Is their treatment so dreadful?” she asked.
“What about their people at home? Their home itself? Their own shame and self-hate for weakness—” Ridenour broke off.
“They’ll be released… against their wills, I’m sure; they’ll plead to stay with us. You can make it part of your job to see that their superiors understand they couldn’t help themselves. Afterward, you have reconditioning techniques, don’t you? Though I expect most cases will recover naturally. They’ll have had just a short exposure.”
“And the, the women?”
“Why, what of them? They don’t want to be saddled with a bunch of citymen. This is their wartime duty. Otherwise they have their private affairs.”
“Their Skills.” Ridenour edged away from her.
Her smile was curiously timid. “John,” she said, “we’re not monsters. We’re only the Free People. An aphrodite doesn’t use her Skill for unfair gain. It has therapeutic applications. Or I—I don’t like raising my strength against fellow humans. I want to use it for their good again.”
He fumbled out the tobacco he had begged from a Terran and began to stuff his pipe. It would give some consolation.
Her shoulders slumped. “Well,” she said in a tired voice, “I think we’d better go aboard now.”
“You’re coming too?” he said. “What for? To guard me?”
“No. Perhaps we’ll need my reaction speed. Though Karlsarm did hope I’d persuade you—Come along, please.”
She led him to the bridge. Terran officers were already posted among the gleaming machines, the glittering dials. Hunyadi sat in the chair of command. But Karlsarm stood beside him, the catavray head gaping across his brow; and other men of the forest darkened that scene.
“Stand by for liftoff.” Hunyadi must recite the orders himself. “Close airlocks. All detector stations report.”
Evagail padded over to Karlsarm. Ridenour could not help thinking that her ruddy hair, deep curves, bare bronze, were yet more an invasion of this metal-andplastic cosmos than the men were. A faint odor of woman lingered behind her on the sterile air.
“What’s our situation with the enemy?” she asked.
“Fair; as near as we can learn,” Karlsarm said. “You haven’t followed events since the last fight?”
“No. I was too busy making arrangements for prisoners. Like medical care for the injured, shelter for everyone. They were too wretched, out in this mist.”
“Can’t say I’ve enjoyed it either. I’ll be glad when we can let it up… Well. We didn’t try an aphrodite on old Chang. Instead, we had him call the Terran chief, Admiral Cruz, and report the capture of his ship. Naturally, having no idea we’d be able to raise her, he didn’t give that fact away. Supposedly we’ll hold vessel and personnel for bargaining counters. The stratosphere’s full of aircraft above us, but they won’t do anything as long as they think we’re sitting with our hostages. Only one spaceship has moved to anything like immediate striking range of us.”
“Are you certain?”
“About as certain as you can be in war, whatever that means. We gave the chief communications officer to an aphrodite, of course. He listened in and decoded orders for the main fleet to stand out to space. That was a logical command for Cruz to issue, once the evacuation notice went out.”
“Evacuation—?”
“Loveling, you didn’t think I’d vaporize the Cities and their people, did you? The instant I foresaw a chance to grab this boat, I got in touch with the Grand Council—by radio, for the other continents, because time was short, so short that it didn’t matter the Terrans would hear. They’re good codebreakers, but I think the languages we used must’ve puzzled them!” Karlsarm grinned. “As soon as we’d made this haul, orders went out to our agents in every City, whether Terran—or Arulian-occupied. They were to serve notice that in one rotation period, the Cities would be erased. But they were to imply the job will be done from space.”
Fright touched Evagail. “The people did evacuate, didn’t they?” she breathed.
“Yes. We’ve monitored communications. The threat’s convincing, when there’s been so much fear of intervention from Aruli or from Merseia herself. An invading fleet can’t get past the blockade. But a certain percentage of fast little courier boats can. Likewise a flight of robot craft with nuclear weapons aboard: which wouldn’t be guaranteed to distinguish between friendly and unfriendly target areas.”
“But has no one thought that we, in this ship, might—”
“I trust not, or we’re dead,” ICarlsarm stated. “Our timing was phased with care. The fog, and interference, and our ground fire, kept the Terrans from finding out what had happened to their cruiser. We informed them immediately that she was disabled, and they doubtless supposed it was logical. How could anyone take an undamaged Imperial warcraft, without equipment they know we don’t have? In fact, they probably took for granted we’d had outside technical assistance in rigging a trap. Remember, the City warning was already preoccupying their thoughts. Chang’s call was a precaution against their growing frantic and bombing us in the hope of getting, our supposed Merseian or Arulian allies. He made it a few hours ago; and I made certain that he didn’t say the ship was captured intact.”
“They’ll know better now,” Hunyadi said. His face was white, his voice tormented.
“Correct. Lift as soon as you’re able,” Karlsarm said. “If we’re hit, your woman will die too.”
The executive officer jerked his head. “I know! Bridge to all stations. Lift at full power. Be prepared for attack.”
Engines growled. The deck quivered with their force. Isis climbed, and the sun blazed about her.
“Communications to bridge,” said the intercom. “Calls picked up from Imperialists.”
“I expected that,” Karlsarm said dryly. “Broadcast a warning. We don’t want to hurt them, but if they bother us, we’ll swat.”
Sickly, Ridenour saw the planet recede beneath him.
Flame blossomed a long way off. “Missile barrage from one air squadron stopped,” said the intercom. “Shall fire be returned?”
“No,” Karlsarm said. “Not unless we absolutely must.”
“Thank you, sir! Those are… my people yonder.” After a moment: “They were my people.”
“They will be again,” Evagail murmured to Ridenour. “ff you help.”
“What can I do?” he choked.
She touched him. He winced aside. “You can speak for us,” she said. “You’re respected. Your loyalty is not in doubt. You proved it afresh, that night when—We don’t belong to your civilization. We don’t understand how it thinks, what it will compromise on and what it will die for, the nuances, the symbols, the meanings it finds in the universe. And it doesn’t understand us. I think you know us a little, though, John. Enough to see that we’re no menace.”
“Except to the Cities,” he said. “And now the Empire.”
“No, they threatened us. They wouldn’t leave our forests alone. As for the Empire, can’t it contain one more way of living? Won’t mankind be the richer for that?”
They looked at each other, and a thrumming aloneness enclosed them. A screen showed space and stars on the rim of the world.
“I suppose,” he said finally, “no one can compromise on the basics of his culture. They’re the larger part of his identity. To give them up is a kind of death. Many people would rather die in the body. You won’t stop fighting until you’re utterly crushed.”