"Neither did we," said Delilah, scowling. The game did not please her, any more than the video-game war inside.
The Amazon warriors, six and ten years old, got carried away and began hitting each other with flower stalks until the older sisters, laughing, restored order and the battle went on to its conclusion. The erk team won the war, of course. The erk team always did. And on the way back Castor glanced around casually, stopped, put his arms around Tsoong Delilah, and kissed her. In her ear he whispered, "I do not want to play this game with real guns. Do you understand?"
"I understand," she said, wishing he would kiss her again.
He did. Then he whispered, "We may not be able to prevent it, but we have to try." Delilah shivered, not from the kiss. It was almost what Manyface had said to her. And all too likely true.
III
"I don't trust them," snapped Feng Miranda, peevishly pushing Jupiter's hand off her arm. He sighed. How incredibly obstinate this Earth sister was! It was curious that this strange and unpleasant disinterest in copulation she displayed seemed to make her more attractive, not less.
"What harm can they do?" he asked reasonably.
"Who knows what harm?" She was glowering toward the front of the War Council room, where Castor, Tsoong Delilah, and a couple of the erks were chattering animatedly. "Do you trust them?"
Jupiter looked scandalized. "Trust my President?"
"That's a farce, Jupiter! And it's not him so much, it's that old bitch Tsoong. She's Han Chinese all the way through!"
He put his hand absentmindedly, and very lightly, on the small of her back. She didn't seem to notice. "You're the one who told us she offered her services," he pointed out.
"So I made a mistake!"
"I don't know why you think that. After all, why would she lie?"
"Oh, you fool!" she snapped, and twisted vigorously away from the hand that she had, after all, noticed. Then she scowled blackly at Castor, who had, also absent-mindedly, put his arm around Tsoong Delilah's waist. "Oh, well," she sighed. "You're probably right about one thing, anyway. There's not much harm they can do. Come on," she said, taking his hand and tugging him toward the table. "We might as well sit down and get on with it."
Feeling much more cheerful, Jupiter let her lead him to seats halfway up the table. He didn't take his hand from hers, nor did she. What a strange woman, he thought; but, on the whole, one worth a little indulgence. That peculiar sallow complexion was not really unattractive; in fact, after a while it became quite nice-looking, as did the tiny nose and the jet eyes. And the size of her! Jupiter had almost never experienced copulation with a female shorter than 180 centimeters. Miranda was tiny, 150 at the most; how interesting it would be to have a bed partner whom he could pick up with ease, who would be featherlight on his belly if they should happen to turn in that direction and almost lost beneath him if—He heard Miranda giggle next to him, looked down, and realized that his thoughts were displayed by his body. But the giggle wasn't unfriendly. He grinned at her, then turned to the proceedings of the War Council, feeling indulgent and pleasurably anticipatory.
For this final meeting, Big Polly and the erks had ceded the chair to the rightful President. Castor stood up, tapped gently on the table with the closest thing they had found to a gavel—it was a sort of mixing spoon from one of the kitchens—and said, "As you all know, our invasion is ready to begin. I want to start by expressing my thanks to Governor Polly and her able legislature, to the males, Mother Sisters, and seniors of all varieties from all the nests, and above all to our hosts, the erks, without all of whom this happy day could never have come about." The council happily applauded itself as Castor beamed at them.
"It only remains to make the final decisions as to personnel. Who will be in the first party to go through the spaceway, along with me, in my yacht? I have given this a great deal of thought. I have discussed it privately with the Governor and many of you, one on one. I think the basis for our decision is clear." The council nodded—the human members of it did, at least—while waiting to hear what that clear basis was. Castor did not keep them waiting. "Our first priority must naturally be to avoid arousing the suspicions of the Han Chinese, do you not agree?" The Council agreed. All around the table human nods and smart erk twitches registered that fact.
"The way to do that," he explained, "is to provide my yacht with a crew they will recognize and trust. Myself, of course. Miranda, to be sure—we have no more dedicated patriot than Miranda, and she looks Chinese. Also, she has earned the right to be in the first ship."
"Of course" followed "of course" among the council.
"Then that is settled," said Castor, "but who else? I suppose," he went on meditatively, "that Manyface should be present. I for one accept his declaration of support. In any case, he is too old and feeble to do us any harm." Delilah caught the black look the old man threw at Castor and grinned internally; Castor was putting on a first-rate performance. "I thought of adding Tchai Howard, or perhaps some members of the assault team. But they are trained fighters. That would be dangerous. They might try to take over the ship somehow, and they might succeed. So I think that would be too risky—but, of course, it is not what I think that is important, but the will of the council. Speak up, please? All of you?" And one by one they spoke, all around the great oval wooden table. Each one decisively pointed out the advisability of including Manyface but not Tchai or the assault team in the first wave. The motion passed unanimously.
Castor leaned back. "May I say," he inquired gratefully, "how much I appreciate your solution to this problem? Now I think we have only one decision left to make." He nodded ruefully toward Tsoong Delilah. She stared back, avoiding the looks of the rest of the council. She could feel her face flushing olive. "Inspector Tsoong," he went on, "would obviously be an asset on the ship from the point of view of deception. As a Renmin police inspector, she would certainly be trusted by the Han Chinese. But for that same reason we cannot ourselves trust her. It is a real dilemma." He shrugged humorously to indicate the hopelessness of the situation. "So," he concluded, "I suppose that we should take the more prudent course. Leave her here on World. She can do us no possible harm here. It is true that this might jeopardize the success of our mission. Still, there is no way out—" He paused, struck by a puzzling thought. "Unless"—he hesitated— "unless in some way we could manage to bring her along, but prevent her from doing harm—"
And the council table was a boil. First to get the floor was A-Belinka. "Tie her up!" he cried, and all around the oval human voices and erk chimed in agreement.
Castor smiled admiringly. "What a perfect solution!" he proclaimed. "We will do just that! And now we are ready—let the war begin!"
All of the council clapped and exclaimed. Even Tsoong Delilah—a cynic, yes, but moved by a great performance. Even, she saw, the figure lurking at the doorway and looking annoyed—that young Yank, Jupiter? Yes, that was his name. He was not a member of the council, of course. In fact, Delilah realized, his only reason for being present, ever, was that he was the guard for Feng Miranda. It had been many days since anyone among the Yanks or erks thought Miranda needed a guard, so his continued presence was simply another example of the foolishness and sloppiness with which these creatures pursued their activities—