Petri released the controls and shot a look at Sanat, “I’m only the chauffeur. What do you want to do? We haven’t the chance of a meteor against the sun-but if you like the gamble-”
“Well,” said Sanat, simply, “we’re not going to surrender, are we?”
The other grinned, as the decelerating rockets blasted, “Not bad for a Loarist! Can you shoot a mounted Tonite?”
“I’ve never tried!”
“Well, then, learn how. Grab that little wheel over there and keep your eye on the small ‘visor above. See anything?” Speed was steadily dropping and the enemy ship was approaching.
“Just stars!”
“All right, rotate the wheel-go ahead, further. Try the other direction. Do you see the ship now?”
“Yes! There it is.”
“Good! Now center it. Get it where the hairlines cross, and for the sake of Sol, keep it there. Now I’m going to turn toward the lizard scum,” siderockets blasted as he spoke, “and you keep it centered.”
The Lhasinuic ship was bloating steadily, and Petri’s voice descended to a tense whisper, “I’m dropping our screen and lunging directly at her. It’s a gamble. If they’re sufficiently startled, they may drop their screen and shoot; and if they shoot in a hurry, they may miss.”
Sanat nodded silently.
“Now the second you see the purple flash of the Tonite, pull back on the wheel. Pull back hard ; and pull back fast . If you’re the tiniest trifle late, we’re through.” He shrugged, “It’s a gamble!”
With that, he slammed the G-stick forward hard and shouted, “Keep it centered!”
Acceleration pushed Sanat back gaspingly, and-the wheel in his sweating hands responded reluctantly to pressure. The orange football wobbled at the center of the ‘visor. He could feel his hands trembling, and that didn’t help any. Eyes winced with tension.
The Lhasinuic ship was swelling terribly now, and then, from its prow, a purple sword leaped toward them. Sanat closed his eyes and jerked backwards.
He kept his eyes closed and waited. There was no sound.
He opened them and started to his feet; for Petri, arms akimbo, was laughing down upon him.
“A beginner’s own luck,” he laughed. “Never held a gun before in his life and knocks out a heavy cruiser in as pretty a pink as I ever saw.”
“I hit it?” gasped Sanat.
“Not on the button, but you did disable it. That’s good enough. And now, just as soon as we get far enough away from the sun, we’re going into hyperspace.”
The tall, purple-clad figure standing by the central portview gazed longingly at the silent globe without. It was Earth, huge, gibbous, glorious.
Perhaps his thoughts were just a trifle bitter as he considered the six-month period that had just passed. It had begun with a nova-blaze. Enthusiasm kindled to white heat and spread, leaping the stellar gulfs from planet to planet as fast as the hyper-atomic beam. Squabbling governments, sudden putty before the outraged clamoring of their peoples, outfitted fleets. Enemies of centuries made sudden peace and flew under the same green flag of Earth.
Perhaps it would have been too much to expect this love-feast to continue. While it did the Humans were irresistible, One fleet was not two parsecs from Vega itself; another had captured Luna and hovered one light-second above the Earth, where Tymball’s ragged revolutionaries still held on doggedly.
Filip Sanat sighed and turned at the sound of a step. White-haired Ion Smitt of the Lactonian contingent entered.
“Your face tells the story,” said Sanat.
Smitt shook his head, “It seems hopeless.”
Sanat turned away again, “Did you know that we’ve gotten word from Tymball today? They’re fighting on what they can filch from the Lhasinu. The lizards have captured Buenos Aires, and all South America seems likely to go under their heel. They’re disheartened-the Tymballists-and disgusted, and I am, too.” He whirled suddenly, “You say that our new needle-ships insure victory. Then, why don’t we attack?”
“Well, for one thing,” the grizzled soldier planted one booted leg on the chair next to him, “the reinforcements from Santanni are not coming.”
Sanat started, “I thought they were on their way. What happened?”
“The Santannian government has decided its fleet is required for home defense.” A wry smile accompanied his words.
“What home defense? Why, the Lhasinu are five hundred parsecs away from them.”
Smitt shrugged, “An excuse is an excuse and need not make sense. I didn’t say that was the real reason.”
Sanat brushed his hair back and his fingers strayed to the yellow sun upon his shoulder, “Even so! We could still fight, with over a hundred ships. The enemy outnumbers us two to one, but with the needle-ships and with Lunar Base at our backs and the rebels harassing them in the rear-” He fell into a brooding reverie.
“You won’t get them to fight, Filip. The Trantorian squadron favors retreat.” His voice was suddenly savage, “Of the entire fleet, I can trust only the twenty ships of my own squadron-the Lactonian. Oh, Filip, you don’t know the dirt of it-you never have known. You’ve won the people to the Cause, but you’ve never won the governments. Popular opinion forced them in, but now that they are in, they’re in only for what they can get.”
“I can’t believe that, Smitt. With victory in their grasp-”
“Victory? Victory for whom? It is exactly over that bone that the planets are squabbling. At a secret convention of the nations, Santanni demanded control of all the Lhasinuic worlds of the Sirius sector-none of which have been recognized as yet-and was refused. Ah, you didn’t know that Consequently, she decides that she must take care of her home defense, and withdraws her various squadrons.”
Filip Sanat turned away in pain, but Ion Smitt’s voice hammered on, hard, unmerciful.
“And then Trantor realizes that she hates and fears Santanni more than ever she did the Lhasinu and any day now she will withdraw her fleet to refrain from crippling them while her enemy’s ships remain quietly and safely in port. The Human nations are falling apart,” the soldier’s fist came down upon the table, “like rotten cloth. It was a fool’s dream to think that the selfish idiots could ever unite for any worthy purpose long.”
Sanat’s eyes were suddenly calculating slits, “Wait a while! Things will yet work out all right, if we can only manage to seize control of Earth. Earth is the key to the whole situation.” His fingers drummed upon the table edge. “Its capture would provide the vital spark. It would drum up Human enthusiasm, now lagging, to the boiling point, and the Governments,-well, they would either have to ride the wave, or be dashed to pieces.”
“I know that. If we fought today, you have a soldier’s word we’d be on Earth tomorrow. They realize it, too, but they won’t fight”
“Then-then they must be made to fight. The only way they can be made to fight is to leave no alternative. They won’t fight now, because they can retreat whenever they wish, but if-”
He suddenly looked up, face aglow, “You know, I haven’t been out of the Loarist tunic in years. Do you suppose your clothes will fit me?”
Ion Smitt looked down upon his ample girth and grinned, “Well, they might not fit you, but they’ll cover you all right.
What are you thinking of doing?”
“I’ll tell you. It’s a terrible chance, but- Relay the following orders immediately to the Lunar Base garrison-”
The admiral of the Lhasinuic Solar squadron was a warscarred veteran who hated two things above all else: Humans and civilians. The combination, in the person of the tall, slender Human in ill-fitted clothing, put a scowl of dislike upon his face.
Sanat wriggled in the grasp of the two Lhasinuic soldiers. “Tell them to let go,” he cried in the Vegan tongue. “I am unarmed.”
“Speak,” ordered the admiral in English. “They do not understand your language.” Then, in Lhasinuic to the soldiers, “Shoot when I give the word.”
Sanat subsided, “I came to discuss terms.”