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«Don't the governments of the Twenty Cities realize that the situation is changing fast?» he asked. «If the base can't defend itself, everybody is going to lose. Everybody is going to look silly in front of Menel, and perhaps worse. Do you think the Menel will be happy having their people die because the Kananites want to go on playing games?» He tried to speak calmly and almost succeeded.

«Blade, please,» said Riyannah, raising a hand to stroke his cheek. «I am not one of the high leaders even of my own City, let alone one who sits on the Council of Kanan. I am a scientist and your friend. That is all. I cannot even get a word from the Council here on the asteroid, when you will be taught Kananite or sent to Kanan! So do not be angry with me for not changing what I cannot change. Do you think I want the Targans defeated any less than you do?»

«No, Riyannah. I shouldn't have let myself become angry with you. But damn it, you people can't sit around much longer, never mind who's to blame for what!»

«I'm sure the Kanan Council knows this as well as you do,» she said. «Or at least they will, once they receive word of Chard's starship. Certainly they will send more patrol ships here. Anything more will take time. The old way of doing things has kept the peace on Kanan for a thousand years. Do you want us to risk becoming like the Targans in order to defeat them?»

«Of course not.»

There wasn't much else to say. The Kananites had certainly accomplished something worthwhile by outlawing war. Unfortunately they'd also outlawed quick decision-making, even when they badly needed it. Loyun Chard didn't sound like the sort of man to wait around politely while his enemies argued over the best way to fight him.

The days dragged on, one by one, slowly adding up to weeks. Blade had given up hope of being taught the Kananite language. All he hoped for now was a starship to Kanan, where he might be allowed to put his case before the Council of Kanan. He was prepared to use Riyannah as an interpreter if necessary.

More days. Blade began to wonder if the asteroid Council had decided he shouldn't go to Kanan at all. What was wrong with them? Did they think he was a Targan in disguise? He knew Riyannah was practically camping on the Council's doorstep, but it didn't seem to be doing any good. Blade began to feel like a caged tiger, and sometimes he couldn't keep himself from snarling at Riyannah.

Then at last the Menel came to his rescue.

Riyannah returned one evening from her daily visit to the Council office with a broad grin on her face and several bottles under her arm.

«We can celebrate, Richard,» she said, kissing him. «We're going to Kanan in a Menel ship!»

Blade grinned. «Did you have anything to do with this, by some chance?»

«I suppose I did. There was the commander of the Menel patrol ships at the base. When I talked to him about how his people in the two ships we saw died, I mentioned our own problems. He said he couldn't promise anything, but he'd speak to the other Menel leaders here.»

«I thought the Menel might have their own opinions on all this-delay,» Blade said. He'd almost said «nonsense,» but he didn't want to be rude, not with the first battle won. «When do we leave?»

«The ship will be landing here tomorrow. Then they'll have to unload its cargo and passengers. We'll be on our way in two or three days.»

Blade started twisting the top off one of the bottles. «Riyannah, get some glasses. We are indeed going to celebrate.» Then he noticed that Riyannah was unfastening her tunic. He smiled.

«All right. There's more than one way to celebrate, and we've got plenty of time.»

Chapter 14

The Menel ship had only one cabin fitted out for humanoid passengers, and that was obviously a hasty job. The mattress on the bed was as hard as concrete and humped in the middle so that anyone on it tended to roll off the bed the minute they fell asleep. The rug on the floor seemed to have bits of broken glass embedded in it. The walls were covered with tiles in putrid greens and browns. Blade got the general impression that whoever fitted out the cabin had heard of humanoid beings and perhaps even seen pictures of them, but no more.

Fortunately the Menel breathed the same kind of air and drank the same kind of water as Kananites and humans. With a case of food and another case of wine Blade and Riyannah expected to stay alive, if not exactly comfortable, all the way to Kanan.

On the wall of the cabin just above the bed was a large square of bronze-tinted glass. «That's the ship's entertainment system,» said Riyannah. «We can leave it off most of the time, unless you really want to watch discussions of the work of a Menel playwright who's been dead for more than a thousand years. I can even ask the captain to leave it off when we make our Transition.»

The Kananites and Menel used a faster-than-light drive that depended on a Zin Field-Pursas Zin being the Kananite scientist who'd discovered it. When the Zin Field reached a critical strength, the ship generating it dropped out of normal space into-somewhere else. For some unguessable time it was nowhere and nowhen in terms of conventional, relativistic space. Then the Transition came to an end and the ship reappeared, four or five light-years from where it had been.

In the early days of interstellar flight, a good many ships turned on their Zin Fields, entered the Transition, and never came out again. Over the centuries both Kananites and Menel refined the process and reduced the risks. Now it was considered cause for alarm if one ship was lost in Transition every ten years out of the thousand or so the Menel and Kananites had shuttling back and forth among the stars.

Blade wanted to see the Transition. «I've been through enough of them in our own ships. I'd like to see how yours compares with ours.»

«Wouldn't they be the same, if the principles of the drive are the same?»

Blade shook his head. «I'm not a power plant engineer, remember? I don't even know if your drive engines look like ours, let alone work the same way.»

«Very well,» said Riyannah. «I thought I'd warn you, because some Transitions are incredibly violent. People have been known to go temporarily insane or be unconscious for several days. At the very least you may get sick to your stomach.»

«We'll put a bucket beside the bed,» said Blade, laughing. «Blast it, Riyannah, anyone would think you didn't want me to watch the Transition.»

He'd said it as a joke, but didn't miss the swift change of expression on her face at the words. She was trying to keep him from watching the Transition, or at least suspected someone else would be happier if he didn't-someone in authority.

He'd have to be careful when the Transition came, hiding any physical reactions as much as he could. Otherwise he might blow his cover story of being an experienced space traveller. Riyannah might become suspicious, and then-well, she'd never let her affection for him drive her to putting her people in danger. He was sure of that.

Even if she didn't become suspicious herself, once more there was the possibility of her saying the wrong thing to the wrong person. If the Kananites played politics the way Riyannah described, many of them would be shrewd, skeptical observers, with a keen eye for flaws in a cover story.

Damn it, though, what did he have to worry about? His brain and body had survived all the numerous transitions from Dimension to Dimension. Surely they wouldn't let him down over a leap across a mere few light-years?

Besides, he was going to be the first man of Home Dimension Earth ever to travel across interstellar space. He wanted to be awake, aware, and watching when the moment came.