“What say you, friends?” They looked back, saw Hunnar standing expectantly behind them. Ethan switched from the symbospeech he and September had been speaking back to Trannish and repeated most of their conversation for the knight and for Mirmib, who had chivaned over to join them.
Hunnar hefted the crossbow he’d taken from the Slanderscree’s armory. “What happens if I put a bolt through the chief human’s chest? Will he not die quickly as any Tran?”
“Just as quickly,” September admitted. “But we’d have to kill all three of them simultaneously.” He glanced over the wall. “Near impossible. If one of ’em survives, they’ll move back out of range and reduce the whole city, or worse, return to Brass Monkey and report what happened here. Then Moulokin would be listed as an outlaw city full of belligerents, and Ro-Vijar and Rakossa would go down as the finest leaders on all Tran-ky-ky. Too risky except as a last resort. Like jumpin’ a crevasse, it’s an all or nothing proposition.
“Besides, Trell’s no dummy. He knows we’ve got a couple of beamers. Probably the skimmer’s beam-shielded right now. Anything we fired at ’em would just get bent into the ice.”
“We’ve got one other thing to fight with, Skua.” Ethan looked from man to Tran. “The new history of an entire race.”
September let go a derisive sniff. “I’m not sure Trell’s the sort of man to whom that would make much difference, feller-me-lad.”
“Don’t judge him too fast, Skua. You said yourself once you’re used to dealing in extremes. Let me try and sell him, first. Before we try any all or nothings.” September looked undecided.
“Maybe I’m wrong, but I think he might be the sort of educated functionary who likes to steal so long as it can be done quasilegally. There’s a difference between a professional killer and an immoral opportunist.”
“You spin words mighty fine, lad.”
“It’s my business. Let me at least try talking to him. If he ignores me, well,” he shrugged and eyed Hunnar’s ready crossbow, “we can always try blunter methods.”
“Why not slay him,” Hunnar suggested blithely, “when he comes to parley?”
“In the first place, Hunnar, we’re not that kind of folks,” September replied sternly. “In the second, Trell will come by himself. May sound paradoxical, but he’s safer with his bodyguard behind him, runnin’ the skimmer and the gun. Kill him and we lose.”
“We agree then. Friend Ethan, try your words.” Hunnar’s tone left no doubt what he thought Ethan’s chances were.
He showed himself at the wall’s edge. “Will you meet us at the gate? We have a lot to tell you that you don’t know, Trell.”
“I will,” came the response, “provided I can bring a couple of bodyguards!”
September’s jaw sagged. If Trell were fool enough to leave the skimmer and cannon unattended…
He was not. When the towering wooden gates were lugged slightly askew, the opening admitted Trell, two huge Tran, and Calonnin Ro-Vijar, looking like a great gray Cheshire cat.
Trell had come thoroughly prepared. He wore skates similar to those manufactured for Ethan and his friends.
“So you and Trell were together in this all along,” said Ethan.
“In what?” Trell looked as innocent as the man who claimed his garrote was a handkerchief. “As Landgrave of Arsudun, naturally Ro-Vijar would be interested in anything affecting the peoples of his world.”
“Such as personal profit?”
“We are all businessmen and traders here.” Ro-Vijar did not sound offended by Ethan’s intended insult. “As a trader, I would be most gratified if this could all be resolved quietly, with no dyings. You should do as your leader requests and return with him to your outpost.”
“That might settle things between outworlders.” Hunnar leaned against the wall nearby and inspected the edge of his sword. “After the humans depart, there would remain many things to be settled among people.”
“As you wish, so may it be.” Ro-Vijar gestured imperceptibly in the knight’s direction, and Hunnar stiffened angrily.
“It doesn’t matter,” Trell said hastily. He pointed to Ethan’s waist. “In case you’re wondering, the skimmer’s not beam shielded. No need for it to be so on this world. But we’re just out of range of your hand beamers. They can’t reach a tenth the distance of that cannon.
“While I’d dislike having to kill you, if you refuse to return peaceably with me and persist in these illegal actions, I will regretfully do just that. Now what is it you wish to tell me?” He sounded impatient. It was cold in the shadow of the wall and his survival suit did not fit properly.
Ethan gestured to Sir Hunnar. The knight went to the door of a chamber built into the base of the wall. Several sailors from the Slanderscree trooped out. They carried pika-pina fiber sacks. Carefully the contents of the sacks were removed, laid out on the ice in front of Trell. Knives, plates, bas-reliefs, all manner of relics removed from the buried metropolis they’d discovered inland.
Wishing Williams were present to offer a more scientific and comprehensive explanation, Ethan launched into an analysis of what they had discovered. His narrative produced a more pronounced reaction from the Tran bodyguard and Ro-Vijar than it did from Trell.
That didn’t mean the Commissioner was unaware of the significance of the artifacts spread out before him. He knelt, examined a strange tool made of native steel finer than any he’d ever seen. “I admit I’ve seen nothing like this before. All this means is that these Mulkins of yours are superb craftsmen.”
“You don’t believe that, Trell. You don’t have to be an expert to tell how old this stuff is. With Commonwealth help, the Tran would be able to preserve their accomplishments and heritage from one warm cycle to the next.”
“These Golden Saia you spoke of…”
Ethan continued enthusiastically. “Warm weather versions of the Tran we see around us, survivors in their thermal region of the previous warm period. Plants and animals from that era have survived there also. Living proof, Trell, of what I’ve told you. The Tran live together on the continents in large social organizations during the warm cycles. Give them communications technology and you’d have a real planetary government. Only the periods of terrible cold force them into city-states competing for habitable territory.
“Don’t you see, Trell? There’s much more than just Associate Commonwealth status at stake for the Tran here. They’ll have full status in a few millennia, and they’ll keep it, once they’re assured of a cultural foundation that’s not going to be shattered by a new ice age every time it gets started.” He paused, continued with more solemnity than he thought he possessed.
“If you take us back to Arsudun, shunt us off on the next ship through and forget all this, you’re condemning an entire race, hundreds of millions of sapient beings, to an existence of periodic crisis, starvation, and death that can all be avoided. You’d be personally responsible for denying them their rightful heritage.”
“Leastwise you got a simple choice, Trell,” September said pointedly. “A few credits in your own account against the future of an entire world. ’Course, if you decide for the former, you wouldn’t be the first to do so.”
Ethan could see the Commissioner was sweating inside. It was one thing to skim a little illegal profit off the trade of a quarrelsome, primitive people, quite another to do so at the expense of an entire civilization’s future. Trell was just moral enough, just civilized enough, in fact just enough of a Resident Commissioner to be thrown into a real quandary by the problem.