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But would Corelius have time to place the dagger, she wondered.

Surely this supper is at its end, she thought.

Be swift, Corelius.

I trust that all is in order.

Had Corelius had time to place the dagger?

Was it done?

Outside the tent she heard the whirr of a hoverer’s engines, one of two light, circular craft, air sleds or air vessels, in the camp, and then the sound, too, came from its matching vessel.

“You warm your hoverers,” said the barbarian.

“Against the cold,” said Phidias.

“An excellent precaution,” said the barbarian.

“Our treaded conveyances,” said Phidias, “will be similarly warmed.

“I hear the ignitions,” said Ronisius.

“It takes but a few moments,” said Lysis.

“Excellent,” said the barbarian. “Thus all may be activated without delay.”

“Heruls may be about,” said Phidias.

“This close to the forest?” asked Otto.

“Possibly,” said Phidias.

On the approach to the camp, in addition to the several horse-drawn sleds, and the hoverers, there had been two armored, treaded vehicles. Corelius had piloted one of the hoverers, Ronisius the other. Lysis had driven the first armored vehicle, and Qualius the other, which had brought up the rear of the column. Phidias, captain of the Narcona, had ridden in the first of the two armored vehicles.

“More feldis,” said the barbarian to Lira, holding forth his cup.

“Yes, Master,” responded Lira.

“I, as well,” said Ronisius.

“Yes, Master,” said Lira, then carrying the two-handled, silver vessel to his place

Shortly thereafter all four engines were shut down, those of the hoverers and those of the two armored vehicles.

They are now prepared, they are ready for departure, thought Filene, in the background, with her tray of cakes. All is in order, all proceeds apace.

She looked, anxiously, to Phidias, to Lysis.

Were they party to the evening’s projected deed?

“You are excused, Filene,” said Phidias.

“Yes, Master,” she said. “Thank you, Master.”

“Proceed to the quarters of Captain Ottonius, and await him, naked, in the furs.”

How humiliating, she thought. I am a free woman!

“Yes, Master,” she said.

It seemed the knife then, as she had thought, would be concealed in the furs.

She handed her tray to Rabbit.

The barbarian would not know, of course, that this was the first of the night camps in which the hoverers and treaded vehicles had been so warmed.

They will be ready, she thought.

A departure is anticipated. All, indeed, proceeds apace.

The knife, by now, must have been placed.

As she exited, her wrist was seized by Ronisius.

“Master?” she said, stopped, startled.

“Our guest is to be well pleased,” he said.

“Yes, Master,” she said, catching her breath, relieved.

“If he is not well pleased,” said Ronisius, “you will muchly regret your failure in the morning.”

“I will do my best,” she said.

“I trust that will be sufficient,” he said.

“Yes, Master,” she said.

“Do well,” he said.

“Yes, Master,” she said.

She then hurried from the room.

She was determined to do well, indeed.

4

For those who live on full, generous worlds, worlds of plenty, worlds of blue water and black soil, it is difficult to conceive of want, save in limited ways, as in, say, an exhaustion of vessite or copper, or the extinction of a given food animal. And if one world is exhausted, its oceans gone, its soil barren, its star a cinder, one might, with an appropriate means, discover, colonize, and plunder another world, just as one who ruins one farm might move to another, and another. But even light takes time to plow its passage amongst stars, and there may be but a limited number of thresholds, and passes, in the mountains of space. It is recognized that, for a given civilization, housing massive, covetous populations, exploiting even ten thousand worlds, or millions of worlds, for a million or more years, nonrenewable resources, however abundant, will prove finite. That had come about in the empire, producing paradoxical discrepancies betwixt worlds, worlds which clung to a remnant of sophistication, refinement, technology, and power, and worlds which had relapsed into primitive savagery. There were worlds on which the sight of an airship, even a simple hoverer, would excite storms of disbelief and superstition, and worlds on which starships routinely departed from spaceports. On some worlds there existed power which could split planets and explode stars, while, on others, creatures of diverse species would do war with stones and sharpened sticks. And on many worlds the mixes of technology and simplicity, of machines and horses, of civilization and barbarism, existed side by side. Venitzia, on Tangara, the provincial capital, for example, had its electronic defenses and its occasional visitations by imperial ships, with their shuttles, or lighters, descending to the surface, while outside the perimeter Heruls rode, with their slender lances, and Otungs hunted in dark forests. Accountings in the empire had become erratic. Many worlds, marginal and now isolated, continuing to regard themselves as members of the empire, had faded, unbeknownst to themselves, from the records of the imperial administration. Others, rebel worlds, had declared their independence from the empire, several unnoticed by the empire. Over the past ten thousand imperial years, years measured in terms of Telnaria’s orbital periods, borders had contracted. Yet, in many of the inner worlds, life went on much as usual. Frivolous gayety reigned in palaces, mansions, and villas, while, sometimes but streets away, brutes and savages prowled amongst tenements and hovels, claiming domains, ruling their tiny kingdoms of hunger, fear, want, and scarcity. On some worlds, a single Telnarian rifle drew the distinction between king and criminal, between rogue and hero, between tyrant and rightful lord, between noble and base. A dozen women might be exchanged for a handful of charges or cartridges. There is little doubt that, at the time of our story, and doubtless for many years earlier, for such things take time, there had existed, amongst many worlds, fear of, distrust of, and surely resentment of, the empire. For example, consider taxation. It is natural to resent taxes, which deprive one of a portion, considerable or not, of the fruits of one’s labor, and particularly natural to resent them if one sees little personal benefit consequent upon their exaction, and if they seem to be imposed by a remote, almost anonymous, almost faceless authority, an authority one suspects of corruption and exploitation. In such a situation a spark of disgruntlement, perhaps occasioned by a fresh law, a new confiscation, an unpopular bureaucratic ruling, can ignite a torch of hate which can, in turn, set a continent or planet ablaze. In such a situation there are always beasts who can recognize, encourage, feed upon, and utilize discontent. Masses, ignorant and weighty, properly stimulated and guided, constitute a mighty force. Powerful indeed is he who, by means of golden promises, holds the reins of the masses.

We have noted, earlier, in reporting the observation of Lysis, supply officer of the Narcona, the current pervasiveness of citizenship in the empire. No longer was it prized; no longer, for most, needed it be sought, and obtained, if at all, only by a considerable expenditure of time and effort; now, freely bestowed, it had become meaningless; it had become worthless. The relevance of this sociological development would become obvious. The vast, seething, restless populations of the empire, without identification, without allegiance, like cattle, might be herded with impunity. Once men would die for the empire; now they lived for nothing. Once the empire was the sun of their day and the star of their night; its standards and anthems were now neglected or forgotten; the temples of former gods were unfrequented; altars crumbled; weeds intruded into sacred groves; holy springs ran dry. Coin ruled in precincts where patriotism and love had once held sway. Man, in a great and impersonal world, now deemed himself small, alone, and lost.