“That is a matter for study,” mumbled Brannoch. “It’s up to the scientists.”
“And if your scientists fail? Has that eventuality occurred to you? Then you have precipitated a war without the advantage you were hoping for. Sol’s forces are larger and better coordinated than yours, my lord. They might win an all-out victory.”
Langley had to admire the resolute way Brannoch faced an idea which had not existed for him before. He stood a while, looking down at his feet, clenching and unclenching his hands. “I don’t know,” he said at last, quietly. “I’m not a scientist myself. What of it, Thrymka? Do you think it can be done?”
“The chance of the task being an impossible one has been considered by us,” answered the tank. “It has a finite probability.”
“Well... maybe the best thing to do is disintegrate him then. We may be taking too much of a gamble—because I won’t be able to fool Chanthavar very long. Perhaps we should stall, build up our conventional armaments for a few more years—”
“No,” said the monsters. “The factors have been weighed. The optimum date for war is very near now, with or without the nullifier.”
“Are you sure?”
“Do not ask needless questions. You would lose weeks trying to understand the details of our analysis. Proceed as planned.”
“Well... all right!” The decision made for him, Brannoch plunged into action as if eager to escape thought. He rapped out his orders, and the prisoners were marched off to a block of cells. Langley had a glimpse of Marin as she went by, then he and Saris were thrust together into one small room. A barred door clanged shut behind them, and two Thorians stood by their guns just outside.
The room was small and bare and windowless: sanitary facilities, a pair of bunks, nothing else. Langley sat down and gave Saris, who curled by his feet, a weary grin. “This reminds me of the way the cops back in my time used to shift a suspect from one jail to another, keeping him a jump ahead of his lawyer and a habeas corpus writ.”
The Holatan did not ask for explanations; it was strange how relaxed he lay. After a while, Langley went on: “I wonder why they stuck us in the same room.”
“Becausse we can together talk,” said Saris.
“Oh... you sense recorders, microphones, in the wall? But we’re talking English.”
“Doubtless they iss... they hawe translation facilitiess. Our discussion iss recorded and iss translated tomorrow, maybe.”
“Hm-m-m, yeah, Well, there isn’t anything important we can talk about anyway. Let’s just think up remarks on Centaurian ancestry, appearance, and morals.”
“Oh, but we hawe much to discuss, my friend,” said Saris. “I shall stop the recorder when we come to such topics.”
Langley laughed, a short hard bark. “Good enough! And those birds outside don’t savvy English.”
“I wish my t’oughtss to order,” said the Holatan. “Meanwhile, see if you can draw them out in conwersation. Iss especially important to learn T’ryman motiwes.”
“So? I should think you’d be more interested to know what’s going to become of you. They were talking about killing you back there, just in case you don’t know.”
“Iss not so wital as you t’ink.” Saris closed his eyes.
Langley gave him a puzzled stare. I’ll never figure that critter out. The flicker of hope was faintly astonishing; he suppressed it and strolled over to the door.
One of the guards swung up his gun, nervously. It had a nonstandard look about it: probably a smoothbore, designed and built for this one job, but no less dangerous. “Take it easy, son,” said Langley. “I don’t bite... often.”
“We have strict orders,” said the Thorian. He was young, a little frightened, and it thickened the rough accent. “If anything at all goes wrong, whether it seems to be your fault or not, you’re both to be shot. Remember that.”
“Taking no chances, huh? Well, suit yourselves.” Langley leaned on the bars. It wasn’t hard to act relaxed and companionable—not any more, now when nothing mattered. “I was just wondering what you boys were getting out of it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I suppose you came here along with the diplomatic mission, or maybe in a later consignment. When did you hit Earth?”
“Three years ago,” said the other guard. “Outplanet service is normally for four.”
“But that don’t include transportation time,” pointed out Langley. “Makes about thirteen years you’re gone. Your parents have gotten old, maybe died; your girl friend has married someone else... Back where I come from, we’d consider that a long term.”
“Shut up!” The answer was a bit too stiff and prompt.
“I’m not talking sedition,” said Langley mildly. “Just wondering. Suppose you get paid pretty well, eh, to compensate?”
“There are bonuses for outplanet service,” said the first guard.
“Big ones?”
“Well—”
“I kind of thought so. Not enough to matter. The boys go off for a couple of decades; the old folks have to mortgage the farm to keep going; the boys come back without money to get out of hock, and spend the rest of their lives working for somebody else—some banker who was smart enough to stay at home. The rich get richer and the poor get poorer. Happened on Earth seven thousand years ago. Place called Rome.”
The heavy, blunt faces—faces of stolid, slow-thinking, stubborn yeomen—screwed up trying to find a suitably devastating retort; but nothing came out.
“I’m sorry,” said Langley. “Didn’t mean to needle you. I’m just curious, you see. Looks as if Centauri’s going to be top dog, so I ought to learn about you, eh? I suppose you personally figure on getting a nice piece of land in the Solar System. But why is Thrym backing you?”
“Thrym is part of the League,” said one of the men. Langley didn’t miss the reluctance in his tone. “They go along with us... they simply have to.”
“But they have a vote, don’t they? They could have argued against this adventure. Or have they been promised Jupiter to colonize?”
“They couldn’t,” said the guard. “Some difference in the air, not enough ammonia I think. They can’t use any planet in this system.”
“Then why are they interested in conquering Sol? Why are they backing you? Sol never hurt them any, but Thor fought a war with them not so long ago.”
“They were beaten,” said the guard.
“Like hell they were, son. You can’t beat a unified planet larger than all the others put together. The war was a draw, and you know it. The most Earth and Thor together could do, I’ll bet, is mount guard on Thrym, keep the natives down there where they belong. Thor alone could only compromise, and take the short end of the stick at that. The Thrymans did win their point, you know; there aren’t any human colonies on the Proximan planets.
“So I still wonder what Thrym’s getting out of this deal.”
“I don’t want to talk about it any longer!” said the guard angrily. “Go on back.”
Langley stood for a moment, considering the situation. There were no soldiers in the cell block except these two. The door was held by an electronic lock, Saris could open it with a mere effort of will. But the two young men were keyed to an almost hysterical pitch; at the first sign of anything unforeseen, they’d open up on their prisoners. There didn’t seem to be any way out of here.
He turned back to Saris. “Got your thoughts uncoiled?” he asked.
“Somewhat.” The Holatan gave him a sleepy look. “You may be astonished at certain t’ingss I hawe to say.”
“Go ahead.”
“I cannot read the human mind—not its actual t’oughtss, only its pressence and its emotional state. Giwen time, I could learn to do more, but there iss not been time yet, ewen wit” you. But the T’rymanss hawe a very long time had to study your race.”