«Blast off wit me, den,» said Belgotai cheerfully. «Ih allays was a dumkoff at languages.»
When the Dreamer was through, he thought: «You will not take it amiss if I tell all that what I saw in both your minds was good—brave and honest, under the little neuroses which all beings at your level of evolution cannot help accumulating. I will be pleased to remove those for you, if you wish.»
«No, thanks,» said Belgotai. «I like my little neuroses.»
«I see that you are debating staying here,» went on the Dreamer. «You will be valuable, but you should be fully warned of the desperate position we actually are in. This is not a pleasant age in which to live.»
«From what I’ve seen,» answered Saunders slowly, «golden ages are only superficially better. They may be easier on the surface, but there’s death in them. To travel hopefully, believe me, is better than to arrive.»
«That has been true in all past ages, aye. It was the great mistake of the Vro-Hi. We should have known better, with ten million years of civilization behind us.» There was a deep and tragic note in the rolling thought-pulse. «But we thought that since we had achieved a static physical state in which the new frontiers and challenges lay within our own minds, all beings at all levels of evolution could and should have developed in them the same ideal.
«With our help, and with the use of scientific psychodynamics and the great cybernetic engines, the coordination of a billion planets became possible. It was perfection, in a way—but perfection is death to imperfect beings, and even the Vro-Hi had many shortcomings. I cannot explain all the philosophy to you; it involves concepts you could not fully grasp, but you have seen the workings of the great laws in the rise and fall of cultures. I have proved rigorously that permanence is a self-contradictory concept. There can be no goal to reach, not ever.»
«Then the Second Empire will have no better hope than decay and chaos again?» Saunders grinned humorlessly. «Why the devil do you want one?»
Vargor’s harsh laugh shattered the brooding silence. «What indeed does it matter?» he cried. «What use to plan the future of the universe, when we are outlaws on a forgotten planet? The Anvardi are coming!» He sobered, and there was a set to his jaw which Saunders liked. «They’re coming, and there’s little we can do to stop it,» said Vargor. «But we’ll give them a fight. We’ll give them such a fight as the poor old Galaxy never saw before!»
Chapter 5
Attack of the Anvardi
«Oh, no—oh no—oh no.»
The murmur came unnoticed from Vargor’s lips, a broken cry of pain as he stared at the image which flickered and wavered on the great interstellar communiscreen. And there was horror in the eyes of Taury, grimness to the set of Hunda’s mighty jaws, a sadness of many hopeless centuries in the golden gaze of the Dreamer.
After weeks of preparation and waiting, Saunders realized matters were at last coming to a head.
«Aye, your majesty,» said the man in the screen. He was haggard, exhausted, worn out by strain and struggle and defeat. «Aye fifty-four shiploads of us, and the Anvardian fleet in pursuit.»
«How far behind?» rapped Hunda.
«About half a light-year, sir, and coming up slowly. We’ll be close to Sol before they can overhaul us.»
«Can you fight them?» rapped Hunda.
«No sir,» said the man. «We’re loaded with refugees, women and children and unarmed peasants, hardly a gun on a ship—Can’t you help?» It was a cry, torn by the ripping static that filled the interstellar void. «Can’t you help us, your majesty? They’ll sell us for slaves!»
«How did it happen?» asked Taury wearily.
«I don’t know, your majesty. We heard you were at Sol through your agents, and secretly gathered ships. We don’t want to be under the Anvardi, Empress; they tax the life from us and conscript our men and take our women and children… We only communicated by ultrawave; it can’t be traced, and we only used the code your agents gave us. But as we passed Canopus, they called on us to surrender in the name of their king—and they have a whole war fleet after us!»
«How long before they get here?» asked Hunda.
«At this rate, sir, perhaps a week,» answered the captain of the ship. Static snarled through his words.
«Well, keep on coming this way,» said Taury wearily. «We’ll send ships against them. You may get away during the battle. Don’t go to Sol, of course, we’ll have to evacuate that. Our men will try to contact you later.»
«We aren’t worth it, your majesty. Save all your ships.»
«We’re coming,» said Taury flatly, and broke the circuit.
She turned to the others, and her red head was still lifted. «Most of our people can get away,» she said. «They can flee into the Arlath cluster; the enemy won’t be able to find them in that wilderness.» She smiled, a tired little smile that tugged at one corner of her mouth. «We all know what to do, we’ve planned against this day. Munidor, Falz, Mico, start readying for evacuation. Hunda, you and I will have to plan our assault. We’ll want to make it as effective as possible, but use a minimum of ships.»
«Why sacrifice fighting strength uselessly?» asked Belgotai.
«It won’t be useless. We’ll delay the Anvardi, and give those refugees a chance to escape.»
«If we had weapons,» rumbled Hunda. His huge fists clenched. «By the gods, if we had decent weapons!»
The Dreamer stiffened. And before he could vibrate it, the same thought had leaped into Saunders’ brain, and they stared at each other, man and Vro-Hian, with a sudden wild hope…
Space glittered and flared with a million stars, thronging against the tremendous dark, the Milky Way foamed around the sky in a rush of cold silver, and it was shattering to a human in its utter immensity. Saunders felt the loneliness of it as he had never felt it on the trip to Venus—for Sol was dwindling behind them, they were rushing out into the void between the stars.
There had only been time to install the new weapon on the dreadnought, time and facilities were so cruelly short, there had been no chance even to test it in maneuvers. They might, perhaps, have leaped back into time again and again, gaining weeks, but the shops of Terra could only turn out so much material in the one week they did have.
So it was necessary to risk the whole fleet and the entire fighting strength of Sol on this one desperate gamble. If the old Vengeance could do her part, the outnumbered Imperials would have their chance. But if they failed…
Saunders stood on the bridge, looking out at the stellar host, trying to discern the Anvardian fleet. The detectors were far over scale, the enemy was close, but you couldn’t visually detect something that outran its own image.
Hunda was at the control central, bent over the cracked old dials and spinning the corroded signal wheels, trying to coax another centimeter per second from a ship more ancient than the Pyramids had been in Saunders’ day. The Dreamer stood quietly in a corner, staring raptly out at the Galaxy. The others at the court were each in charge of a squadron, Saunders had talked to them over the inter-ship visiscreen—Vargor white-lipped and tense, Belgotai blasphemously cheerful, the rest showing only cool reserve.
«In a few minutes,» said Taury quietly. «In just a few minutes, Martin.»
She paced back from the viewport, lithe and restless as a tigress. The cold white starlight glittered in her eyes. A red cloak swirled about the strong, deep curves of her body, a Sunburst helmet sat proudly on her bronze-bright hair. Saunders thought how beautiful she was—by all the gods, how beautiful!