He laughed shakily. "I suppose it would have amused most people to know what was going on in my mind. In my mind. Nobody thought much of me, you know."
Biron said, "All this happened over twenty years ago, and they haven't attacked? There's been no sign of them? No strange ships have been reported? No incidents? And you still think-"
Gillbret fired at him, "Yes, I do. Twenty years isn't too long to organize a rebellion against a planet that rules fifty systems. I was there just at the beginning of the rebellion. I know that too. Slowly, since then, they must have been honeycombing the planet with their underground preparations, developing newer ships and weapons, training more men, organizing the attack.
"It's only in the video thrillers that men spring to arms at a moment's notice; that a new weapon is needed one day, invented the next, mass-produced the third, and used the fourth. These things take time, Biron, and the men of the rebellion world must know they will have to be completely ready before beginning. They won't be able to strike twice.
"And what do you call 'incidents'? Tyrannian ships have disappeared and never been found. Space is big, you might say, and they might simply be lost, but what if they were captured by the rebels? There was the case of the Tireless two years back. It reported a strange object close enough to stimulate the massometer, and then was never heard from again. It could have been a meteor, I suppose, but was it?
"The search lasted months. They never found it. I think the rebels have it. The Tireless was a new ship, an experimental model. It would be just what they would want."
Biron said, "Once having landed there, why didn't you stay?"
"Don't you suppose I wanted to? I had no chance. I listened to them when they thought I was unconscious, and I learned a bit more then. They were just starting, out there, at that time. They couldn't afford to be found out then. They knew I was Gillbret oth Hinriad. There was enough identification on the ship, even if I hadn't told them myself, which I had. They knew that if I didn't return to Rhodia there would be a full-scale search that would not readily come to a halt.
"They couldn't risk such a search, so they had to see to it that I was returned to Rhodia. And that's where they took me."
"What!" cried Biron. "But that must have been an even greater risk. How did they do that?"
"I don't know." Gillbret passed his thin fingers through his graying hair, and his eyes seemed to be probing uselessly into the backward stretches of his memory. "They anesthetized me, I suppose. That part all blanks out. Past a certain point there is nothing. I can only remember that I opened my eyes and was back in the Bloodsucker; I was in space, just off Rhodia."
"The two dead crewmen were still attached by the tow magnets? They hadn't been removed on the rebellion world?" asked Biron.
"They were still there."
"Was there any evidence at all to indicate that you had been on the rebellion world?"
"None; except for what I remembered."
"How did you know you were off Rhodia?"
"I didn't. I knew I was near a planet; the massometer said so. I used the radio again, and this time it was Rhodian ships that came for me. I told my story to the Tyrannian Commissioner of that day, with appropriate modifications. I made no mention of the rebellion world, of course. And I said the meteor had hit just after the last Jump. I didn't want them to think I knew that a Tyrannian ship could make the Jumps automatically."
"Do you think the rebellion world found out that little fact? Did you tell them?"
"I didn't tell them. I had no chance. I wasn't there long enough. Conscious, that is. But I don't know how long I was unconscious and what they managed to find out for themselves."
Biron stared at the visiplate. Judging from the rigidity of the picture it presented, the ship they were on might have been nailed in space. The Remorseless was traveling at the rate of ten thousand miles an hour, but what was that to the immense distances of space. The stars were hard, bright, and motionless. They had a hypnotic quality about them.
He said, "Then where are we going? I take it you still don't know where the rebellion world is?"
"I don't. But I have an idea who would. I am almost sure I know." Gillbret was eager about it.
"Who?"
"The Autarch of Lingane."
"Lingane?" Biron frowned. He had heard the name some time back, it seemed to him, but he had forgotten the connection. "Why he?"
"Lingane was the last Kingdom captured by the Tyranni. It is not, shall we say, as pacified as the rest. Doesn't that make sense?"
"As far as it goes. But how far is that?"
"If you want another reason, there is your father."
"My father?" For a moment Biron forgot that his father was dead. He saw him standing before his mind's eye, large and alive, but then he remembered and there was that same cold wrench inside him. "How does my father come into this?"
"He was at court six months ago. I gained certain notions as to what he wanted. Some of his talks with my cousin, Hinrik, I overheard."
"Oh, Uncle," said Artemisia impatiently.
"My dear?"
"You had no right to eavesdrop on Father's private discussions."
Gillbret shrugged. "Of course not, but it was amusing, and useful as well. "
Biron interrupted, "Now, wait. You say it was six months ago that my father was at Rhodia?" He felt excitement mount.
"Yes."
"Tell me. While there, did he have access to the Director's collection of Primitivism? You told me once that the Director had a large library of matters concerning Earth. "
"I imagine so. The library is quite famous and it is usually made available to distinguished visitors, if they're interested. They usually aren't, but your father was. Yes, I remember that very well. He spent nearly a day there."
That checked. It had been half a year ago that his father had first asked his help. Biron said, "You yourself know the library well, I imagine."
"Of course."
"Is there anything in the library that would suggest that there. exists a document on Earth of great military value?"
Gillbret was blank of face and, obviously, blank of mind.
Biron said, "Somewhere in the last centuries of prehistoric
Earth there must have been such a document. I can only tell you that my father thought it to be the most valuable single item in the Galaxy, and the deadliest. I was to have gotten it for him, but I left Earth too soon, and in any case"-his voice faltered-"he died too soon."
But Gillbret was still blank. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You don't understand. My father mentioned it to me first six months ago. He must have learned of it in the library on Rhodia. If you've been through it yourself, can't you tell me what it was he must have learned?"
But Gillbret could only shake his head.
Biron said, "Well, continue with your story."
Gillbret said, "They spoke of the Autarch of Lingane, your father and my cousin. Despite your father's cautious phraseology, Biron, it was obvious that the Autarch was the fount and head of the conspiracy.
"And then"-he hesitated-"there was a mission from Lingane and the Autarch himself was at its head. I-I told him of the rebellion world."
"You said a while ago you told nobody," said Biron.
"Except the Autarch. I had to know the truth."
"What did he tell you?"
"Practically nothing. But then, he had to be cautious too. Could he trust me? I might have been working for the Tyranni. How could he know? But he didn't close the door altogether. It's our only lead."
"Is it?" Biron said. "Then we'll go to Lingane. One place, I suppose, is like another."
Mention of his father had depressed him, and, for the moment, nothing mattered much. Let it be Lingane.
Let it be Lingane! That was easy to say. But how does one go about pointing the ship. at a tiny speck of light thirty-five light-years away. Two hundred trillion miles. A two with fourteen zeros after it. At ten thousand miles an hour (current cruising speed of the Remorseless) it would take well over two million years to get there.