Part 6 (2/2)
”Yeah, sure,” grunted Alex. He gagged his captive and left him trussed on the floor.
Heart pounding, the man spread out the disguise he had improvised from raiment and bedding. Thus far his plan had succeeded better than he dared hope, but now it would depend on his years of practice at playing out roles before Hokas, for the costume would never have gotten by a human.
First he donned his Wellingtonian greatcoat. Into a capacious pocket he stuffed the weakly struggling Snith. Thereafter he wrapped his hips in a blanket, which simulated a skirt long enough to hide the boots he donned, and his upper body in a dress which had belonged to the housewife and which on him became a sort of blouse. Over all he pinned another blanket, to be a cloak with a cowl, and from that hood he hung a cheesecloth veil.
Here goes nothing, he thought, and minced daintily, for practice, through the cottage to the farther door. It opened at his knock. An astonished Sergeant Le Galant gaped at the spectacle which confronted him. He hefted his musket. ”Qui va la?” he demanded in a slightly stunned voice.
Alex waved a languid hand. ”Oh, sir,” he answered falsetto, ”please let me by. I'm so tired. His Grace the Duke is a . . . a most vigorous gentleman. Oh, dear, and to think I forgot to bring my smelling salts.”
The Hoka's suspicions dissolved in a burst of romanticism. Naturally, he took for granted that the lady had entered from the side opposite. ”Ah, ma belle pet.i.te,” he burbled, while he kissed Alex's hand, ”zis is a service you 'ave done not only for Monsieur le Duc, but for France. We 'ave our reputation to maintain, non? Mille remerciments. Adieu, et au revoir.”
Sighing, he watched Alex sway off.
The mists had lifted, and everywhere Hoka soldiers stared at the strange figure, whispered, nudged each other, and nodded knowingly. A number of them blew kisses. Beneath his finery, Alex sweated. He must not move fast, or they would start to wonder; yet he must get clear soon, before word reached Napoleon and made him wonder.
His freedom was less important than the prisoner he carried, and had been set at double hazard for that exact reason. This, maybe, was the salvation of Toka. Maybe.
When he had climbed the ridge and entered the forest, Alex shouted for joy. Henceforward he, as a woodsman, would undertake to elude any pursuit. He cast the female garb from him. Attired in greatcoat and boots, the plenipotentiary of the Interbeing League marched onward to the sea.
At his insistence, the flotilla recalled its marines and sought open water before the French arrived. Nelson grumbled that retreat was not British, but the human mollified him by describing the move as a strategic withdrawal for purposes of consolidation.
In Alex's cabin, he and Brob confronted Snith. The diminutive Krat did not lack courage. He crouched on the bunk and spat defiance. ”Never will I betray the cause! Do your worst! And afterward, try to explain away my mangled body to your lily-livered superiors.”
”Torture is, needless to say, unthinkable,” Brob agreed. ”Nevertheless, we must obtain the information that will enable us to thwart your plot against the peace. Would you consider a large bribe?”
Alex fingered his newly smooth chin and scowled. The s.h.i.+p heeled to the wind. Sunlight scythed through ports to glow on panels. He heard waves rumble and whoosh, timbers creak, a cheerful sound of music and dance from the deck; he caught a whiff of fresh salt air; not far off, if he flew, were Tanni and the kids. . . . Yes, he thought, this was a lovely world in a splendid universe, and must be kept that way.
”Bribe?” Snith was retorting indignantly. ”The bribe does not exist which can buy a true Universal Nationalist. No, you are doomed, you decadent libertarians. You may have kidnapped me, but elsewhere the sacred cause progresses apace. Soon the rest of this planet will explode, and blow you onto the ash heap of history.”
Alex nodded to himself. A nap had done wonders for him akin to those which had happened ash.o.r.e. Pieces of the puzzle clicked together, almost audibly.
Conspirators were active in unknown places around the globe. They must be rather few, though; Snith appeared to have managed the entire Napoleonic phase by himself. They must, also, have some means of communication, a code; and they must be ready at any time to meet for consultation, in case of emergency. Yes. The basic problem was how to summon them. Snith knew the code and the recognition signals, but Snith wasn't telling. However, if you took into account the feverish Kratch temperament.
A slow grin spread across Alex's face. ”Brob,” he murmured, ”we have an extra stateroom for our guest. But he should not be left to pine in isolation, should he? That would be cruel. I think I can get the captain to release you from your duties as mate, in order that you can stay full time with Mr. Snith.”
”What for?” asked the s.p.a.cefarer, surprised.
Alex rubbed his hands together. ”Oh, to try persuasion,” he said. ”You're a good, kind soul, Brob. If anybody can convince Mr. Snith of the error of his ways, it's you. Keep him company. Talk to him. You might, for instance, tell him about flower arrangements.''
The planet had barely rotated through another of its 24.35-hour days when Snith, trembling and blubbering, yielded.
It was necessary to choose the rendezvous with care. The conspirators weren't stupid. Upon receiving their enciphered messages, which bore Snith's name and declared that unforeseen circ.u.mstances required an immediate conference, they would look at their maps. They would check records of whatever intelligence they had concerning human movements and capabilities at the designated spot. If anything appeared suspicious, they would stay away. Even if nothing did, they would fly in with such instruments as metal detectors wide open, alert for any indications of a trap.
Accordingly, Alex had made primitive arrangements. After picking up a long-range transmitter in Plymouth, he directed Victory alone-to an isolated Cornish cove, whence he issued his call. Inland lay nothing but a few small, widely scattered farms. Interstellar agents would think naught of a single windjammer anch.o.r.ed offsh.o.r.e, nor imagine that marines and bluejackets lurked around the field where they were supposed to land-when those Hokas were armed simply with truncheons and belaying pins.
Night fell. All three moons were aloft. Frost rings surrounded them. Trees hemmed in an expanse of several hectares, whereon haystacks rested h.o.a.r; the nearest dwelling was kilometers off. Silence prevailed, save when wildfowl hooted. Alex s.h.i.+vered where he crouched in the woods. Twigs p.r.i.c.kled him. He wanted a drink.
As.h.i.+mmer beneath moons and stars, a teardrop shape descended, the first of the enemy vehicles. It grounded on a whisper of forcefield, but did not open at once. Whoever was inside must be satisfying himself that nothing of menace was here.
A haystack scuttled forward. It had been glued around Brob. Before anybody in the car could have reacted, he was there. His right fist smashed through its fuselage to the radio equipment. His left hand peeled back the metal around the engine and put that out of commission.
”At 'em, boys!” Alex yelled. His followers swarmed forth to make the arrest. They were scarcely necessary. Brob had been quick to disarm and secure the two beings within.
Afterward he tucked the car out of sight under a tree and returned to being a haystack, while Alex and the Hokas concealed themselves again.
In this wise, during the course of the night, they collected thirty prisoners, the entire ring. Its members were not all Kratch. Among them were two Slissii, a p.o.r.nian, a Sarennian, a Worbenite, three Chakbans; but the Kratch were preponderant, and had clearly been the leaders.
A glorious victory! Alex thought about the administrative details ahead of him, and moaned aloud.
Two weeks later, though, at home, rested and refreshed, he confronted Napoleon. The Empire was his most pressing problem. Mongols, Aztecs, Crusaders, and other troublesome types were rapidly reverting to an approximation of normal, now that the sources of their inspiration had been exposed and discredited. But Imperial France not only had a firmer base, it had the unrelenting hostility of Georgian Britain. The Peace of Amiens, which Alex had patched together, was fragile indeed.
Tanni was a gracious hostess and a marvelous cook. The plenipotentiary's household staff, and his children, were on their best behavior. Candlelight, polished silver, snowy linen, soft music had their mellowing effect. At the same time, the awesome presence of Brob reminded the Emperor-who was, after all, sane in his Hoka fas.h.i.+on-that other worlds were concerned about this one. The trick was to provide him and his followers an alternative to the excitement they had been enjoying.
”Messire,” Alex urged over the cognac and cigars, ”as a man of vision, you surely realize with especial clarity that the future is different from the past. You yourself, a mover and shaker, have shown us that the old ways can never be the same again, but instead we must move on to new things, new opportunities-la carriere ouverte aux talents, as your ill.u.s.trious namesake phrased it. If you will pardon my accent.”
Napoleon s.h.i.+fted in his chair and clutched his stomach. ”Yes, mais oui, I realize this in principle,” he answered unhappily. ”I have some knowledge of history, myself. Forty centuries look down upon us. But you must realize in your turn, Monsieur le Plenipotentiaire, that a vast outpouring of energy has been released in France. The people will not return to their placid lives under the ancien regime. They have tasted adventure. They will always desire it.”
Alex wagged his forefinger. Tanni's glance reminded him that this might not be the perfect gesture to make at the Emperor, and he hastily took up his drink. ”Ah, but messire,” he said, ”think further, I beg you. You ask what will engage the interest of your populace, should the Grand Army be disbanded. Why, what else but the natural successor to the Empire? The Republic!”
”Qu'est-ce que vous dites?” asked Napoleon, and p.r.i.c.ked up his ears.
”I comprehend, messire,” Alex said. ”Cares of state have kept you from studying what happened to Terrestrial France beyond your own period. Well, I have a number of books which I will gladly copy off for your perusal. I am sure you will find that French party politics can be more intricate and engaging than the most far-ranging military campaign.” He paused. ”In fact, messire, if you should choose to abdicate and stand for elective office, you would find the challenge greater than any you might have encountered at Austerlitz. Should you win your election, you will find matters more complicated than ever at Berezina or Waterloo. But go forward, indomitable, mon pet.i.t caporal!” he cried. ”Toujours I'audace!”
Napoleon leaned over the table, breathing heavily. Moisture glistened on his black nose. Alex saw that he had him hooked.
At Mixumaxu s.p.a.ceport, the Joneses bade Brob an affectionate farewell. ”Do come back and see us,” Tanni invited. ”You're an old darling, did anybody ever tell you?” When he stooped to hug her, she kissed him full on his slightly radioactive mouth.
The couple returned to their residence in a less pleasant mood. Leopold Ormen had appeared at the city and applied for clearance to depart in his private s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p.
Tanni begged to be excused from meeting him again. She felt too embarra.s.sed. Alex insisted that she had made no mistake which he would not have made himself under the circ.u.mstances, but she refused anyway. Instead, she proposed, let her spend the time preparing a sumptuous dinner for the family; and then, after the children had gone to bed- Thus Alex sat alone behind his desk when the journalist entered at the appointed hour. Ormen seemed to have lost none of his c.o.c.kiness. ”Well, Jones,” he said, as he lowered himself into a chair and lit a cigarette, ”why do I have to see you before I leave?”
”We've stuff to discuss,” Alex answered, ”like your involvement in the Kratch conspiracy.”
Ormen gestured airily. ”What are you talking about?” he laughed. ”Me? I'm nothing but a reporter-and if perchance you get paranoid about me, that's a fact which I'll report.'
”Oh, I have no proof,” Alex admitted. ”The League investigation and the trials of the obviously guilty will drag on for years, I suppose. Meanwhile you'll come under the statute of limitations, d.a.m.n it. But just between us, you were part and parcel of the thing, weren't you? Your job was to prepare the way for the Kratch, and afterward it would've been to write and televise the stories which would have brought our whole system down.”
Ormen narrowed his eyes. ”Those are pretty serious charges, Jones,” he lipped thinly. ”I wouldn't like your noising them around, even in private conversation. They could hurt me; and I don't sit still for being hurt. No, sir.”
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