Outside, Billy towered above the Tlembans as he strode up the middle of the street, his head not more than a few inches below the trolley wire that fed the street car system. Traffic policemen gave him passage, for he could be seen for blocks. He turned into the spaceport and entered his ship.
He was met by Cliff Lane.
"How'd it go?"
"I think we got him. There'll be no more trouble from that sector."
"Good. Now what?"
"We whip this horse into action and head for Sscantoo. On the triple. Hotang Lu is there, telling Linzete of his danger and urging him to get set for conquest."
"Linzete is going to be a tougher nut to crack," observed Lane. "Well, let's get going. I've a few items to tell about Hendrick's researches in subspace matter."
Thompson's ship rose sharply, plunged into space, and then the distorting beam in the control room started to function.
"Think you can hit Sscantoo?" asked Billy.
"Breeze," smiled the pilot.
"But look, Tony, that's a long way off."
"So's Terra," answered Tony laconically. "We hit Tlembo all right, didn't we?"
"O.K., you're the pilot. Drop me on Sscantoo, and I'll invite you to a drink."
"A deal," grinned Tony. A moment later the pressure was built up, and the ship was wrenched into subspace. Then began the long, long journey to Sscantoo which would take less than a few days in the universe from which they came.
"Now," said Thompson to Lane, "what's with Hendricks and his researches?"
"So far, subspace matter is enigmatic. It does not combine atomically or chemically with normal matter. It shows other physical properties, however. They separated the sample by the ancient method of using the various melting points and specific masses. The stuff has no gravitic attraction, but it has mass, you know, and they used a centrifuge on it. They got two kinds of matter. One we'll call metal for the simple reason that it conducts electricity. The others are nonmetals because they do not conduct electricity. There was a small quantity of a light blue gas that was occluded in the dirt, it boiled off early and they caught it. Well, if nothing else, it will come in handy for surgeon's tools, chemical hardware, and the like, since you can put anything into it and it will not dissolve or go into chemical combinations. I betcha we got something to hold the Universal Solvent."
"Yeah," grinned Billy. "Takes something strictly out of this world to do it, though."
"Since there's no weight to it, the stuff still heads for the roof. The gas, they say, boiled off down, since the vapor pressure and atmospheric brownian movement drove it that way. Good stuff for antibends atmospheres, I'd say. Mix it with twenty percent oxygen and breathe it. It will not dissolve, at least no detectable loss is noticed with the instruments that Hendricks has."
"There's a brand new system of chemistry, nuclear physics, and garden-variety physics out there," said Billy. "We've opened up a new field, or maybe two. Well, we've got several months here. Let's get to work."
Vorgan, Lord of All, smiled in a puzzled manner. "You have my word," he said. "Your immunity is granted. Complete and absolute immunity, with the right to speak as you wish without fear of reprisals. What is the nature of this visit?"
Indan Ko shifted nervously. He felt a great uncomfortable fear of this vast room, that seemed to stretch endlessly. The dais upon which Vorgan sat was like a mountain to the little man, and each step was knee-high to Indan Ko.
"Tlembo is weary," said Indan Ko. "Yet we are bitterly afraid."
"Of what?"
"Slavery."
Vorgan shrugged. "It will come sooner or later."
"Lord of All, may I offer you a bargain?"
"Bargain?" grunted Vorgan.
"Tlembo has been a source of discomfort to you. We have forced you off-balance several times, have caused you to go forth and fight in sectors where you were not ready to enter. We have been instrumental in causing you to change your master plan."
"Right."
"We have never been a real menace to you," went on the little man, "but we have been annoying. Now if I offer you our promise not to stir up any more trouble, will you offer us less than utter and abject slavery?"
Vorgan blinked. The bluntness of the offer was startling to him, and the offer itself was a new facet to the Loard-vogh conquest. He snarled inwardly at Mangare again, cursing the long-dead Lord of All that had permitted the initial escape of the Tlembans. But snarling at a dead man's mistake was not solving this problem, and Vorgan dropped it to consider Indan Ko's startling offer.
Until recently, nothing like this could have come up. Save for three or four times in the past—before Vorgan's time—when Tlembo had created minor riots, the Loard-vogh conquest had been lightning fast and completely unheralded. A sector would be overrun, a star cluster at a time, and no word would go out ahead of their plans. Races fell before their might, and then lived in slavery. A slave has no position, and no right nor ability to offer terms. Therefore terms were a consideration never before handled.
Terms, by themselves, offered a conflict in Vorgan's mind. Bartering and buying among the Loard-vogh was normal, of course, but the concept of terms from an alien race struck a snag, somehow.
Yet Vorgan could see the point. A chance for the Loard-vogh to complete their master plan without the interference of this race of trouble-makers. True, the Loard-vogh must relinquish the right to hold them as absolute slaves. Perhaps a single representative in the Lower Council would suffice. At any rate, giving a little right now might mean less loss for the future. Vorgan groaned at the thought of all the races of the Galaxy asking terms, and getting certain conditions of servitude. Better to give a little to this one race than to go on trying to keep a galaxy full of races satisfied.
No, he thought, not one race. That makes two! Terra had certain advantages asked and offered. But Terra had been defeated, and only her very brilliant ability had won her the right to a certain freedom. And, of course, Terrans were helping the Loard-vogh on a myriad of planets, doing things that the Loard-vogh found difficult, mentally.
But to keep Tlembo from stirring up trouble might well be worth the effort. Tlembans were not the intelligent race that the Terrans were, but—
Vorgan laughed. Let the Terrans have another job. They could possibly use the Tlembans in some way. Let Terra keep Tlembo satisfied and quiet and useful! Terrans were of exceedingly high intelligence, and the results of their researches often required either that the Terrans follow it, or that the Terrans direct a number of Loard-vogh. The latter was not right, politically, and it had been a bother to them all.
To have a large group of Terrans all running down important details seemed better, though Vorgan admitted that it was a waste of good brainpower to have highly trained technicians performing routine research. Tlembans were of a high order of intelligence, though not as high as the Loard-vogh. They might be able to handle the routine experiments and act in tertiary capacities under Terran direction.
An excellent idea.
"Indan Ko, I offer you a brief period of armistice. Permit me to consult the Grand Council. I—"
Lindoo entered, hurriedly. "Lord of All, Borgara's machine is here!"
"Indan Ko, I must see this immediately. Consider the armistice while I am gone, and rest assured that I am about convinced that we can come to terms. I shall return directly."
Vorgan followed Lindoo into the large anteroom that opened on the nave of the reception room. There were six of the Loard-vogh Grand Council there, grouped around a machine of amazing complexity. It was more amazing because it did not appear to make good sense. Vorgan thought that perhaps it would make sense after it started to run.
And the thing that made Vorgan catch his breath was the Terran sitting in the corner with folded arms.
"Well," said Vorgan shortly, "what does it do?"
Lindoo stepped forward and snapped the switch on the base. The Terran leaped to his feet and snapped it off.
"Don't!" he warned.
"That was a rash thing to do," snapped Vorgan.
"I may be rash," admitted the Terran. "But lese-majesty is permissible when a life is in danger."
"Lindoo, give me the details."
"Borgara went crazy."
"Crazy? How?"
"I don't know. But it was tied up in this machine, somehow."
Vorgan turned to the Terran. "Every time we have something out of line going on here, we find Terra mixed in it. What is your name, Terran?"
"Edward Atkins."
"Position, Atkins?"
"Technician."
"And what is this machine?"
"A device I made at Borgara's direction."
"Borgara went crazy. Why?"
"Because he used this machine. I insist that it remain dormant. Otherwise the rest of you will be caught in the same unfortunate trap that befell Borgara the Powerful."
"No doubt deplorable," observed Vorgan dryly.
"Quite. I did his bidding, and he became enmeshed in it."
"I'm not too surprised," snapped Vorgan. "So give me your side of the details. About one more like this and I am going to wipe Terra out."
"Forgive me if I seem to slur a member of your race," said Atkins earnestly, "but Borgara was a bitter tyrant. He held his rule by sheer force and violence. He maintained his productive output by torture. He cared little for pleasure or ease, and he drove the people in his sector unmercifully. On one planet, Borgara set up a rule that any man who did not produce a given amount would find one member of his family entering the Grand Torture Chamber. Torture threats against a person are far less demanding than threats against a member of the immediate family. And, Lord of All, he set the minimum limit slightly above the average output, and kept it rising.
"Borgara found his pleasure in watching people in torture. The trouble was that the more satisfying kind of torture didn't leave a victim alive too long. So Borgara directed me to devise a means of torture that would be most terrible and yet would not kill too soon. I did—and it is this machine."
"Yet it drove Borgara insane."
"Correct. Permit me to remove a few important parts?"
"To demonstrate without danger?"
"Yes."
Atkins stepped forward and removed two tiny wheels and a glistening sphere. "Now start it," he said. "The danger is gone."
Lindoo snapped the switch again. The myriad of levers began to reciprocate. Tiny flashing wheels started to turn, and pencils of light flickered through the facets of the rotating spheres. It was a fascinating machine, utterly fascinating. It increased in speed, and the flickering, flashing, interwoven motion flowed with a noiseless violence. In and out, through and through in a mad pattern went the parts. And as they watched it, the machine lost its mechanical shape, apparently, and became an almost living thing that breathed and was—shapeless. The individual motions became one master writhing.
And the Loard-vogh stared at the machine with horror on their faces. There was sheer and utter horror there, but they could not move away, nor could they speak. They began to writhe a bit, as something in their mental attitude caused the onset of physical pain, and the writhing grew more violent.
Atkins stepped forward and turned the machine off.
Vorgan stormed.
"I thought there was no danger!" he shouted, rubbing a muscle that had cramped.
"No danger," said the Terran with a faint smile. "You see, when I removed these parts I protected myself so that I could turn the machine off before it became really dangerous to you. I wanted you to see and feel for yourselves just what Borgara thought excellent."
"But we were going insane and were aware of it!"
"As a means of torture, can you think of any better?" asked Atkins. "To sit there, watching the machine, knowing that it is driving you insane, and that the machine is causing you physical pain, and that there is nothing that you can do about either—that, Lord of All, is the supreme torture."
"And Borgara got caught, is that it?"
"Unfortunately for Borgara, he used it once too often. He got tired of watching the victim, and watched the machine. Since he was alone in the torture chamber, it—got him. I beg of you, destroy it. I'd not care to be responsible for more trouble."
Lindoo opened a drawer in the chest, took out a high-power modine, and blasted the machine to ribbons. "Atkins, too?"
Vorgan shook his head. "He was only doing what he was told. Borgara's Sector is in good hands, they tell me, and the new overseer has released forty million fighting men that Borgara needed to control his sector. No, I think ... dismissed, Atkins ... that once again the Terrans have done us a favor."
Vorgan returned to Indan Ko. "Tlemban, tell me something. Was Terra behind your decision?"
"Yes," admitted Indan Ko. "Terra pointed out that the Galaxy must be united and that the Loard-vogh were doing just that. Terra does not grant that the means you are using are correct to their ideals, but they admit that you are doing it quickly and efficiently. And they point out that we can never hope to win, ergo we should make the best of defeat. So—"
Vorgan groaned. "Terra—what next?"
And then he straightened his face again, and said: "Your terms are granted. Your instructions are to report to Terra as assistant operators. Your immunity becomes eternal, Indan Ko, and your integrity is maintained as well as it can be when you are taking orders from Terra. And," he smiled, "perhaps it will keep Terra out of my hair."
XXIII.
Billy Thompson faced the catman in spite of Linzete's hiss of disapproval.
"I know of our danger," snapped the ruler of Sscantoo. "Few know it better than I. I was on Terra just before trouble struck, and I know and appreciate the mass against me. And you tell me to submit willingly."
"Might as well," said Billy. "It's inevitable."
"Sscantoo has one chance," said Linzete. "And that is to use Terra's secret weapon."
"You haven't got it," said Billy flatly. "And if you mean spore-bombing, don't be an idiot."
"Idiot?" snarled Linzete. "Better an idiot than a turncoat that is now fighting his conquerors' battles for them. You commanded a certain amount of respect, Thompson. But that debt was canceled on the day that you started to curry favor. Go back and fawn upon the Loard-vogh; do you think that I don't know what's in your mind? You'll willingly sell Sscantoo into slavery in order to gain a little more voice in your plaintive wailing cry to Vorgan."
"I—"
"As you sold Tlembo to the Loard-vogh."
"I've sold no—"
"Where have you been?" snarled Linzete.
"Coming from Tlembo," admitted Billy with a laugh. "And there has been no communication because we have been traveling in subspace. It took us four days to cross space from Tlembo to here. We've been out of touch with the Universe for months, as far as we're concerned. Now if Tlembo is being sold, I don't know about it."
"Hotang Lu left three days ago because he was withdrawn. His statement was that Indan Ko was taking the trip to Vorgan's capitol in order to offer terms of surrender. Explain that!"
"Indan Ko was intelligent enough to understand the implications behind fighting. Look, Linzete, I sold Tlembo a theory of operations. You cannot hope to win alone."
"We can exterminate them."
"And in doing so, render unfit for life a quarter of the Galaxy? That I will not permit. And, Linzete, any extermination you perform will be strictly post-mortem. Granted that you have the ships and the men and the spores all grown or collected and packed into bombs. From a single bombing of a Loard-vogh planet to extermination of life on that planet will be a matter of six months to a year. Meanwhile, the Loard-vogh will have attacked and conquered you. Think Terra didn't think of it? We did and we considered it well. But Linzete, we like to remain alive. We destroyed seventeen million of the first-line fighting men. That was war, and the men were expendable. A nice nasty term. Terra lost seven thousand because Terra does not consider any man really expendable. The situation is about even. But consider their utter hatred and violence to find a single planet bombed into lifelessness ever afterwards by filling it with sheer death-rot."
"I see the point, but if we're to lose, let's lose honorably, die fighting, and take as many with us as we can."
"A poor attitude. You must fight to win and to live, Linzete. War is a means of forcing your will upon an enemy, Linzete. That means there are a number of different kinds of war. War per se is usually the last resort. There are social wars and economic wars, and people do not consider them too violent. But a shooting war gets everybody all worked up.
"There has been a lot of talk about Terra's secret weapon, Linzete. It has been explained again and again. Terra's secret weapon is the intelligence to recognize fact, even though obscured. If you had your choice, Linzete, which would you rather be, the nominal ruler of a sector or the man whose advice is taken on every decision—who, in fact, tells the ruler what to do?"
"Lacking the right to be both acknowledged ruler and factual ruler, I— That is a problem that has never occurred to me."
Billy said, very patiently, "Terra knows. Terra will win this war. Our will—to be imposed upon the Loard-vogh—is that they take their decisions from our advice. As such, we have the rule of the Galaxy. I tell you this because Sscantoo has too much to gain by absolute co-operation with Terra. Eventually the Loard-vogh will be seeking our advice. I have sent them Indan Ko, the ruler of a race that has caused them no end of trouble. Indan Ko will not arrive there for months, yet I can predict that Vorgan and Lindoo will place the Tlembans directly under Terran supervision for divers reasons, not the least of which is the fact that Vorgan will prefer to place under Terra any intelligent race who are more than conquered slaves. Allies, in a sense. That's because the Loard-vogh have never yet experienced any allying. Their past is devoid of practice. So it will be with Sscantoo. You will come under our jurisdiction."
Linzete shrugged. "Win, lose, or draw, Sscantoo seems doomed."
"Nonsense! Sscantoo will reap the benefits of a Galaxy-wide culture. Sscantoo will reap the benefits created by Terra, and without the battle scars that Terra will bear forever. Fight them, and you will die. There is little sense in being dead, Linzete. Never again will the Loard-vogh conquer and enslave. From now on in, they will find their selected victims prepared and allying with them, offering them facts and facets of culture, and sponsored by Terra. Terrans are already high in the councils of the Loard-vogh as technical advisors. They calculate and they advise, and they will advise terms for this system and for that system, and the end-product will be to weld the entire Galaxy into one solid culture.
"Fight them?" laughed Billy. "Why fight them when we can outmaneuver them before the logisticians can cover their first page of trial equations."
"Trouble is," said Linzete, "that Sscantovians are a rather belligerent race, and entirely individualistic. And the Loard-vogh are extreme militarists."
"Sscantoo's job is clear. Sscantovians like isolation and lone-wolfing. That's why I am here pleading with you." Billy pointed out of the overhead dome into the bright sky. "Out there, somewhere, there must be another culture that really needs extermination. More than half of the Galaxy lies out there. Linzete, take your lifetime and your planet's resources and go out and find for me a whipping post to keep the Loard-vogh in fighting trim. It's precious little warfare they'll get at home from now on in."
Linzete purred. "You seem to have solved our problem and theirs all in one plan. Terran, it is a deal."
"Sscantoo will not be sorry," promised Billy.
Linzete nodded, and poured a drink from the carafe at his elbow. "To a united Galaxy," he said. They drank. "Tell me, Billy, what happens when you meet a race that will not listen to reason, having planetary defenses too powerful to attack?"
"We have a means of rotating a five thousand mile sphere of their sun's core into subspace. It makes a violent variable out of it, and forces the race to migrate within a year. During migration, of course, they are helpless and they can be handled with ease."
"Um," swallowed Linzete. "I see."
The color of his face showed that he did see.
Once more the months rolled past. The trip was made to Terra in subspace, to save time, but when Billy arrived, his greeting to Patricia Kennebec was hungry and demanding.
"You'd think it were months," she objected mildly.
"For me it has been," he confessed.
Another month rolled by, and it went with a peculiar time-sense, for it was both violently swift at times, and at other times it dragged like eternity. Both of them would have preferred a quick wedding, but position interfered with the process. But the month ended eventually, and after a solid round of formal affairs punctuated by less formal details, they got the right and the opportunity to take to their spaceship together.
And the four months that followed drove past as swiftly as the light-years logged up on the recorder. Theirs was an ambling passage through prime space; they stopped at four or five intervening systems on their way.
Their arrival at Vorgan's capitol followed the visits from Indan Ko and Linzete. Billy knew, and smiled inwardly. He'd planned it that way.
"Stick around," he told her with a grin. "Females are strictly nom de something-or-other in there at present. I'll be out directly."
He entered and saluted Vorgan. Lindoo was less affable than the Lord of All, who smiled.
"A nice piece of work, Terran," said Vorgan.
"Thank you."
Vorgan turned to Lindoo. "You once told me that you would step down when your master at diplomacy came along," he twitted.
Billy smiled at Lindoo. "I gather that I executed your wishes to perfection," he said.
Lindoo blinked.
Vorgan turned back to the Terran. "His wishes?"
"Certainly. I admit that I took liberties with my orders, but I couldn't know whether settling the Sscantovian affair without losing a man included Tlembo as well, because by the time I took stock, they were allied, and we of Terra always consider that a confederate rates the same treatment as the prime contractor."
"But I do not understand. Did Vorgan issue any orders?"
"I am responsible to him. I am among his advisory staff. He selected me. It was his ability to select me that puts him in the position of ordering me."
"Proceed," said Vorgan.
"Lord of All, a responsible assistant certainly does not require a written order for every act. Not among Terrans, anyway. A good supervisor selects assistants who can anticipate and act upon his wishes. A good assistant can act as his superior would act, and knows his superior's wishes. Therefore I was but anticipating Lindoo's plan, and acting in accordance with my knowledge of his desire."
Lindoo blinked, and the storm cloud of his face cleared. Vorgan smiled slightly. "Keep him," he said. "He will do a lot for you."
Lindoo would require a bit more soothing, Billy knew, but that could come easily and soon enough.
He was dismissed and as he left, Billy smiled inwardly. Let them rule. He and his cohorts would rule the rulers. He had a fairly complete picture right now. They had rid themselves of Sezare the dissolute voluptuary, and Borgara, the tyrant, and there was a sector not too far away where one Terran had convinced the overseer that an experiment in offering the slaves better living quarters and a better future might pay off. It would, for the downtrodden sector against which the model project was stacked knew of the "race" in production and were taking it easy. The model project's output might even be double. And several sectors were combing close to locate intelligent assistants and specialists to aid the Terrans—the research sector. And Terrans in large groups were roaming the galactic front, using their ability to speak and communicate with any race. They could enter any system that used a reasonable facsimile of Terran air for an atmosphere, and disease and death did not touch them. Their arguments were brilliant, and they achieved without fighting that which the Loard-vogh could not do. If the Loard-vogh felt that things were moving too fast, they had but to inspect their birth records. With less fighting, there was less absence of the fighting men—
It would be a long, hard-driven road to travel, but it would lead to a united Galaxy. Meanwhile, Billy would be happy without fretting about his position. He was satisfied to advise Lindoo.
Vorgan, Emperor of the Loard-vogh, Lord of All, and his race fought for the unity of the Galaxy. They still thought they ruled it as they would—
THE END.