Part 6 (1/2)
unlidded a bleary eye. Light trickled in through cracks and warps in the shutters across his bedroom window. A creature the size of his thumb fluttered clumsily, ever closer to him. Multiple legs brushed his skin again. ”d.a.m.n,” he mumbled, and once more made futile swatting motions.
The insectoid was as persistent as a Terrestrial fly. Maybe an odor of booze on his breath attracted it. Alex would get no more rest while it was loose.
He forced himself to alertness. Craftily, he waited. The huge brown bug hummed nearer. Alex remained motionless. His tormentor drew within centimeters of him. He kept himself quiet while he studied its flying pattern. Back and forth it went, on spatulate wings. Uzz, uzz, uzz it went. Alex mentally rehea.r.s.ed his move. Then, pantherlike, his hand pounced. Fingers closed on the creature. ”Gotcha!” he rasped. A sorry triumph, no doubt, but better than no triumph at all.
The bug fluttered in his grip. He was about to crush it, but stopped. Poor thing, it had meant him no harm. Why must he add even this bit to the sum of tragedy that would soon engulf Toka? (What a metaphor! But he was hung over, as well as oppressed by the doom he foresaw.) At the same time, he was jolly well not going to let it disturb his sleep any more.
He could carry it to a door, have that door swung aside, and release his prisoner. But then the sentinel would be eager to talk to his prisoner, and that was just too much to face at this hour.
Alex swung his nude body out of bed. A chamber pot stood nearby. He raised the lid, thrust the bug inside, and dropped the lid back in place. The bug flew about. Resonance made the vessel boom hollowly. Alex realized he had not done the most intelligent thing possible, unless the house contained another chamber pot.
He looked around him. Daylight must be very new, at sunrise or before, since it was weak and gray. In a while someone would bring him breakfast. He hoped it would include plenty of strong black coffee. Afterward he would insist on a hot bath. d.a.m.nation, here he was, unwashed, uncombed, unshaven, confined in a peasant's hovel. Was that any way to treat the Duke of Wellington?
As abruptly as the night before, Alex froze. Now his gaze did not stop at a leather flask, which in any case lay flaccid and empty. Figuratively, his vision pierced the wall and soared over valley and hills to the sea. Inspiration had, indeed, come to him.
It might be sheer lunacy. The chances were that it was. He had no time for Hamlet-like hesitation. Nor did he have much to lose. Seizing the pot, he hurried out of the room and down the hall to the north end of the cottage. He had changed his mind about conversation with his guards.
None the worse for a sleepless night, Karl flung wide the door when Alex knocked, though his muscular
little form continued to block any way out. Mist had drenched his uniform, and as yet blurred view of the camp below this farmstead, but reveilles had begun to sound through the chill air.
”Gut Morgen, gut Morgen!” the grenadier greeted. ”Did de n.o.ble captiff shlumber vell? Mine duty ends soon, but I vill be glad to shtay and enchoy discourse am Krieg-”
He broke off, surprised. M-m-uzzz, oom, oom went the jar that Alex held in the crook of an arm.
”Mine lord,” Karl said after a moment, in a tone of awe, ”you iss a powerful man, t'rough and t'rough. I vill be honored to empty dot for you.”
”No need.” Alex took the lid off and tilted the vessel forward. The bug blundered forth. As it rose higher, sunrise light from behind the fog made it gleam like metal. Karl's astounded stare followed it till it was out of sight.
Thereafter he scratched his head with his bayonet and murmured, ”I haff heard dey feed dem terrible on de English s.h.i.+ps, but vot vas dot?”
Alex smiled smugly, laid a finger alongside his nose, and replied in a mysterious voice, ”I'm afraid I can't tell you that, old chap. Military secrets, don't y' know.”
Karl's eyes grew round. ”Mein Herr? Zecrets? But ve gafe you a zearch last night.”
”Ah, well, we humans-for I am human, you realize, as well as being the Duke of Wellington -we have our little tricks,” Alex answered. He a.s.sumed a confidential manner. ”You're familiar with the idea of carrier pigeons. Before you became a German grenadier, you may have heard about our Terrestrial technology-miniaturization, transistors-but I may say no more. Except this, because you're stout and true, Karl, whether or not you're on the wrong side in this war. No matter what happens later today, never blame yourself. You could not possibly have known.”
He closed the door on the shaken Hoka, set the mug aside, and sought the south end of the house.
”Bonjour, monsieur,” hailed Sans-Souci. I 'ope ze n.o.ble lord 'as slept well?”
”Frankly, no,” said Alex. ”I'm sure you can guess why.”
The soldier c.o.c.ked his ears beneath his shako. ”Eh, bien, ze gentleman, 'e 'as been lonely, n'est-ce pas?”
Alex winked, leered, and dug a thumb into the other's ribs. ”We're men of the world, you and I, corporal. The difference in our stations makes no difference. . . . Uh, I mean a man's a man's for a' that, and-Anyhow, if I'm to be detained, don't you agree I should have . . . companions.h.i.+p?”
Sans-Souci grew ill at ease. ” 'Ow true, 'ow sad. But Your Lords.h.i.+p, 'e is not of our species-”
Alex drew himself up to his full height. ”What do you think I am?” he snapped. ”I have nothing in mind but a lady of my race.”
”Zat will not be so easy, I fear.”
”Perhaps easier than you think, corporal. This is what I want you to do for me. When you're relieved, pa.s.s the word on to your lieutenant that, if the Emperor is virile enough to understand, which he undoubtedly is, why, then the Emperor will order a search for a nice, strapping wench. There are a number of humans on Toka, you recall-League personnel, scientists, journalists, lately even an occasional tourist. I happen to know that some are right in this area. It should not be difficult to contact them and-Well, corporal, if this works out, you'll find me not ungrateful.”
Sans-Souci slapped his breast. ”Ah, monsieur,” he cried, ”to 'elp love blossom, zat will be its own reward!”
A couple of new soldiers appeared out of the fog and announced that they were the next guards. Sans-Souci barely took time to introduce them to the distinguished detainee-a stolid, though hard-drinking private from Normandy and a das.h.i.+ng Gascon sergeant of Zouaves-before hastening off. Alex heard a clatter from behind the house as Karl departed equally fast.
Returning inside, the man busied himself in preparations for that which he hoped would transpire. Whatever did, he should not have long to wait. Any collection of Hokas was an incredible rumor mill. What the sentries had to relate should be known to the whole Grand Army within the hour.
Excitement coursed through his blood and drove the pain out of his head. Win, lose, or draw, by gosh and by golly, he was back in action!
He estimated that a mere thirty minutes had pa.s.sed when the door to the main room opened again, from outside. At first he a.s.sumed a trooper was bringing his breakfast, then he remembered that English aristocrats slept notoriously late and Napoleon would not want his guest disturbed without need. Then a being stepped through, closed the door behind him, and glared.
It was Snith.
”What's this?” the Krat screamed. The volume of the sound was slight, out of his minuscule lungs. ”What's what?” asked Alex, careful to move slowly. Though he towered a full meter above the alien, and probably outma.s.sed him tenfold, Snith carried a dart gun at his belt; and his race was more excitable, impatient, irascible than most.
”You know what's what, you wretch. That communication device of yours, and that camp of your abominable co-humans somewhere close by. Thought you'd sneak one over on me, did you? Ha! I'm sharper than you guessed, Jones. Already scouts have brought back word of those English in the bay and the village. We'll move on them this very day. But first I want to know what else to expect, Jones, and you'll tell me. Immediately!”
”Let's be reasonable,” Alex temporized. While he had expected Snith to arrive alone, lest the Hokas learn too much, he could not predict the exact course of events-merely devise a set of contingency plans. ”Don't you realize what harm you're doing on this planet? Not only to it, either. If ever word gets out about your government's part in this, you can be sure the rest of the League will move to have it replaced.”
The Krat sneered upward at the human's naked height. ”They won't know till far too late, those milksop pacifists. By then, Universal Nationalism will dominate a coalition so powerful that-Stand back, you! Not a centimeter closer, or I shoot.” He touched the gun in its holster.
”What use would that be to you?” Alex argued. ”Dead men tell no tales.”
”Ah but you wouldn't be dead, Jones. The venom in these darts doesn't kill unless they strike near the heart. In a leg, say, they'll make you feel as though you're burning alive. Oh, you'll talk, you'll talk,” responded Snith, obviously enjoying his own ruthlessness. ”Why not save yourself the agony? But you'd better tell the truth, or else, afterward, you'll wish you had. How you'll wish you had!”
”Well, uh, well-Look, excuse me, I have to take a moment for nature. How can I concentrate unless I do?”
”Hurry up, then,” Snith ordered.
Alex went to the chamber pot. He bent down as if to remove its lid. Both his hands closed on its body. Faster than when he had captured the bug, he hurled it. As a youth in the Naval Academy, he had been a basketball star. The old reflexes were still there. The lid fell free as the mug soared. Upside down, it descended on Snith. Too astonished to have moved, the Krat buckled beneath that impact. Alex made a flying tackle, landed on the pot and held it secure.
Snith banged on it from within, boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, boom. ”What's the meaning of this outrage?” came his m.u.f.fled shriek. ”Let me go, you fiend!”
”Heh, heh, heh,” taunted Alex. He dragged the container over the floor to a chair whereon lay strips of cloth torn off garments left by the dwellers here. Reaching beneath, he hauled Snith out. Before the Krat could draw weapon, he was helpless in the grasp of a far stronger being. Alex disarmed him, folded him with knees below jaws, and began tying him.
”Help, murder, treason!” Snith cried. As expected, his thin tones did not penetrate the door.
He regained a measure of self-control. ”You're mad, insane,” he gabbled. ”How do you imagine you can escape? What will Napoleon do if you've harmed his . . . his Talleyrand? Stop this, Jones, and we can reach some modus vivendi.”