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  "The wedding will be on Taratwo," Corinne said,with a soft smile, her eyes locked on Pat's "and itwill be

  after it's all over."

  "Well, it's your wedding," Brenden said. He puthis hand on Corinne's shoulder. "We're ready, lit­tle sister. It's time to get your blond supermen allpainted up in their warpaint and hold us one bigpractice drill and then go off to kick us a littlesand."

  TEN

  Since the Brenden preferred the comfort of hisflagship, Pat and Corinne tookSkimmer back to Dorchlunt. Corinne was beaming. The test had gone beautifully. The man she'd chosen to love was with her. She was full of dreams, and she expounded on them during the short trip. They would choose oneof the more beautiful UP planets for their ownprivate kingdom. Pat would be her coregent.

  "Our people will adore us," she said. "People dolove pomp and splendor."

  "I thought the idea was to bring freedom andequality to all," Pat said, with a little smile.

  "Oh, of course," she said, "but there must be anauthority figure. The masses must have a leader,or anarchy is the result."

  Beautiful as she was, she could not have heldher own in a freshman political discussion at the university. She paid lip service to the rights of the masses, and could weep tears for the hungry anddowntrodden that she imagined to be everywhere in the UP system, basing her opinion, obviously, on conditions under the Man's dictatorship onTaratwo, but underneath it was simple ambition.

  Like most revolutionaries recorded by history, shehad great plans for tearing down a working sys­tem, almost none for improving it, assuming that once she and her brother were in power all thingswould automatically be better.

  He was pleased to see that he had, apparently,gained her full trust. He landedSkimmer in theback garden and went with her to her apartment.The ship was still there as he looked over hisshoulder upon entering the temple. He began tothink of ways he could get aboard and blink to hellout of there to warn the UP to keep all ships faraway from the Brenden's fleet until someone couldcome up with a countermeasure for the disrupter.With all of the Taratwo fleet close in to the planet,he didn't think much of his chances of doing that,but he had to try something.

  At the door of her apartment, she kissed him."Darling, I have so much to do. We'll be togetherforever soon, but now you'll have to excuse me."

  "I'd like to useSkimmer's library," he said. "OK?"

  She looked at him piercingly. "I don't want tolose you."

  He laughed. "I won't try to run through thewhole fleet. Two cruisers, maybe, but not the en­tire fleet."

  "I know I can trust you," she said.

  "There's one other thing. There's a golden door.A priest told me that it was for adepts only, that Iwas barred."

  "Not worth consideration," she said. "It's justthe shrine to the admiral who was in command of the colonization ship. There's a statue of him. The priests worship him, keep his uniform clean andreplace it as it decays, because he was the one who began the priesthood. He figured out the theocracywhich has kept these poor creatures docile for so long." She laughed. "It's one of those arcane littlesecrets that religious people love. Since all of theoriginal priests were sworn to secrecy as to the purpose of the theocracy, they've extended thatsecrecy to silly length." She leaned close, whis­pering. "The name of the fleet admiral is so sa­cred, so secret, that only the priesthood knows it, and it can only be pronounced within the confinesof the shrine."

  "Well, I guess I can live without seeing theshrine," he said. "When will you be finished withyour work?"

  "Give me at least three hours, darling. Thencome to me and we'll dine together." She stood ontiptoe to kiss him again. "Are you going to try topuzzle out all the secrets of the weapon by con­sulting your library?"

  "Well, I'm curious, of course."

  "When I have the time I'll tell you all about it,"she said. "Those old Zedeians were ingenious men.Isn't it delightful that we're going to beat themwith their own weapon?" Her face went grim. "And,oh, how I do yearn to see the faces of those menwho treated me as if I were a child, ordering meabout, forcing me to act in vehicles which I hated."

  "Three hours, then," he said.

  "I'll miss you," she said, starting to close thedoor.

  "By the way, I think I've got the general idea ofall of it now, except for one thing. Why do youhave to depend on the Dorchlunters to fire theweapons?"

  She cast an impatient glance at her timepiece,then looked into his eyes. "That's the only flaw leftin the weapon," she said. "It can be quite dangerous, turning on itself and the ship which carries it, if an attempt is made to release the energy prema­turely or if one waits too long. Given time, wecould computerize the controls, but we don't have time. The Zedeians were getting extremely both­ersome and suspicious. My brother knew that wecould not risk waiting any longer. But there's no need to be concerned. These people have lived fora thousand years under rigid discipline. The youngmen are taught from childhood to feel the momentof proper charge. It's not magic, it's simply a mat­ter of day-after-day, year-after-year training to develop the awareness of the field which forms arounda disrupter. There has never been an accident witha charged weapon."

  "That's good to know," he said, and then shewas gone.

  It felt good to be back aboardSkimmer. He drewcoffee, seated himself at the computer console."How

  have you been, old man?" he asked.

  "Please repeat the instruction," the computersaid.

  The old man was having trouble with his hear­ing again.

  "Now don't sulk just because I've left you alone,"Pat said. "I want material regarding the molecular bonding energy of copper."

  "Please repeat the instruction," the computersaid. Pat typed it in instead of repeating it orally.The computer gave the equivalent of a sigh, along, purring sound, and began to search its entirememory bank. Pat stopped it, gave more specificinstructions. After ten minutes he realized that theold man was in a bad way, that the ionization inhis memory chambers was worse. He checked afew individual references under atomic theory, molecular energy, just about every heading he couldthink of, and drew only blanks.

  He remembered, then, that he had the Artuneemanuscript in both original and translated formin the library. He soon had it on the screen, and ittook only a few minutes to locate the referencesand cross-references to the material included inthe story of a dead alien race. He found what hewanted in a thesis written by one Alaxender ofTrojan.

  "It is a fundamental law that an electron at rest,in copper, exerts a force on every other electron atrest, repelling its fellows in inverse proportion to thesquare of the distance between them. This force is measurable, being 8.038 X 10-26pounds."

  The force, minute in regard to a single electron,is balanced by a counterforce, respresented by aproton. If the repulsion of the protons were notexactly balanced by that of the electrons, energywould be released. Alaxender of Trojan had calcu­lated the force represented by the binding energiesin two tenth-of-an-inch cubes of copper placed oneinch from each other at over six hundred billiontons. If, somehow, the balance could be destroyed,releasing that energy in a controlled stream, as itwas apparently released by the disrupter—

  Not much work had been done in the field sincethe flurry of interest following the translation ofthe Artunee manuscript. The blink drive, the ulti­mate power source, fulfilled all needs. Man did notneed the power of Bertt, the Artunee. Nor did heneed another weapon of destruction, so interesthad lagged.

  It was odd, and it was shaping up to be tragic,that some forgotten Zedeian scientist, possibly onenamed Sargoff, a name mentioned by young Gorben, had discovered Bertt's force quite indepen­dently, and centuries before the Cygnus expedition.

  The disrupter worked. And he'd seen the speedand accuracy with which the young men of Dorch­lunt manned the weapons. A UP fleet, massed forfirepower, could be swept with half a dozen of the disrupters within seconds and each ship wouldthen be dead in space, with all the men inside asdead as the ship's systems.

  There was no q
uestioning the real danger to allof UP civilization. By chance, a young scholar had rediscovered a thousand-year-old Zedeian secret.By chance, he'd found the colonization ship andthe descendants of the original scientists. And bychance, a small man with a big body, an engaging laugh, and savage, unrelenting purpose was in a position to become ruler of the entire populatedgalaxy.

  "Hey, Pat," a boisterous voice said fromSkim­mer'scommunicator. "You there, boy?" "I'm here, sir," Pat answered. For a while hewouldsay sir to a dictator.

  "You might wanta see this," the Brenden said."I've got all my young studs assembling on theparade ground. Gonna give 'em one big pep talk."

  "I'll be there, sir," Pat said.

  The young men of Dorchlunt were marching incompany-size units on a flat, hard-packed area tothe north of the temple. The Brenden had comedown in a launch and was seated under a sun­shade on a wooden platform. Pat joined him there.

  The ranks of young men marched in perfect uni­son, the troops arranged by height to give perfect symmetry to each file. Pat recognized one of theofficers bellowing out orders as his friend Gorben.

  With over two thousand young men standing atrigid attention, the Brenden used a hailer, in order to be heard, and spoke to them of duty, honor, and a return to their rightful glory. When he was fin­ished a mighty cheer went up. The dictator baskedin it, smiled, laughed, waved his hands, and thenstood at attention and saluted as the men marchedoff the parade ground.

  "Magnificent," the Brenden said. "God, boy, whatan army. Makes me almost wish that I'd lived inhistoric times when men fought each other toe totoe and tooth to tooth, right, boy?"

  "I'm more the lover type," Pat said, and that gota huge laugh.

  Brenden waved the others, all uniformed, off theplatform. "Pat," he said, "I guess by this timeyou've got it all figured out, and I'll bet you caneven give me a layman's explanation of the dis­rupter."

  "I have a very general idea," Pat said. "Has todo, somehow, with unbalancing the forces thatbind molecules in copper."

  "Hell, that's all I understand aboutit,"Brendensaid. "You've got the idea. What I need to know,Pat, is just how you feel about the whole deal." Hepinned Pat with that green-eyed gaze, so like Co­rinne's, and waited.

  Pat measured his words for a moment. "Corinnewants to take over the galaxy to feed the hungry. Idon't think that's your motivation."

  Brenden roared. "She always was a bleedingheart. Hell, Pat, I'm taking over because Ican.Because I got kicked around as a kid. Iwas hungry a couple of times, not for long, because I damnedwell went out and stole enough to eat. I'm takingover because I had the guts to claw my way upand take over one planet and if you can take overone you can take over as many as there are. I'mtaking over because I want to make a few Zedebastards crawl, and because I think that I'm just alittle smarter than some and can straighten out a few things that have always bothered me." Hegrinned at Pat. "And because I just don't like beingforced to play second fiddle toany man."

  "Good reasons," Pat said. "You want to know ifI'm with you?"

  "Cory's got her heart set on you, boy."

  "I know. That's why I'm here. I'll have to admit,sir—"

  "Hell, boy, you're gonna be my brother-in-law,just call me Brenden."

  "Thanks. I'll have to admit, Brenden, that I'mnot wild about killing. I don't get all excited aboutblasting poor guys in UP ships."

  "Neither do I, neither do I. We're gonna startslow. We'll kill only enough to make believers ofthe others, and of the UP politicians. Hell, Pat, I ain't no murderer, but sometimes events are big­ger than individual men, you know that."

  No. Pat didn't know that. He knew that the un­derlying philosophy of the more enlightened peo­ple in the UP confederation was just the opposite,that the rights of the individual were more impor­tant than any event, or any theory, or any belief,or any government, and the UP had been workingtoward total individual freedom, under a few nec­essary laws, for the last few thousand years.

  But he nodded in agreement to Brenden's state­ment.

  "You love my sister, don't you?"

  "Yes," he said truthfully, for in spite of every­thing he went soft inside when he thought ofCorinne.

  "Well, then?"

  "I'm with you, Brenden," he said, because, aboveall, he had to retain his freedom of movement sothat he could seize whatever chance came along totry to avert the catastrophe which Brenden wasplanning.

  "Here's my hand on it," Brenden said. And still holding Pat's hand in a firm clasp, he said, "I wantyou with Cory tomorrow."

  "What's happening tomorrow?" Pat asked, a feel­ing of dread inside. Was it to be so soon?

  "She hasn't given you the timetable." He laughed."Guess you two have been too busy to talk busi­ness. Well, here's the plan. Tomorrow we have asort of dress rehearsal. We'll split the fleet, and betargets for each other with uncharged weapons. That'll give the gunners some live onboard prac­tice. Cory'll be in command of the second wing,me the first wing. You go with Cory. She's not too hot about being in command, and if you think youcan learn enough to cut it, we'll see. I need some­one I can trust."

  "You can't trust the men who've been with youall along?"

  "Hell, boy, we've only had a fleet on Taratwo fora few years. Haven't had time to train good navymen. I got a few I can trust with my life, but notwith the command of a wing. They're good men,but they lack experience. And anyhow, my brother-in-law has to be a big part of it, doesn't he?"

  "I appreciate it," Pat said.

  "After the fleet exercise in space we'll have onemore of these parade shindigs. I like that. And it'll be good for the boys. Keep them alert and ready.Listen, these kids are the key to it, you know. Iguess you've dug up how sensitive and criticalthat damned weapon is."

  "Yes, and that scares hell out of me," Pat said. "What if in the heat of battle one of the boys loses his nerve, or gets excited? Can you shut off theexcitation impulses generated by Murphy's Stone?"

  Brenden shook his head negatively. "Once that big rock is at temperature it stays that way for a while."

  He laughed.

  "That's a chance we have to take, but nothing'sgoing to happen. These kids have been in trainingall their lives. I've run psychological tests on doz­ens of them. They don't get nervous looking oldman death right in the teeth, because they've beentold all their lives that they're going to that heaven on Zede when they die. They welcome death, but,on the other hand, they don't seek it."

  "When do we sally for UP territory?" Pat asked.

  "OK. I didn't finish, did I? The exercise tomor­row, then a day off except for the parade for theboys,

  and one more final test run in space. Soon asthat's over we don't even come back down, we justlight out for Zede territory."

  "Going to start with Zedeians, huh?"

  Brenden grinned wolfishly. "You bet your ass. Iwanta hear those bastards beg for mercy."

  "So three days from now the final exercise in space and then we're off?" Pat asked.

  "That's it."

  The last of the marching units were leaving theparade ground. Brenden went to his launch. Patfollowed the marching men, saw the last unit halt, come to attention, then he heard Gorben's voicedismissing them. The young men went off at therun for their villages, cheering and laughing. Gorbenwas walking toward Pat.

  "Very impressive, Gorben," Pat said, when theywere face to face. "I suppose you're ready for the big exercise tomorrow?"

  "Yes, Honored One."

  "What is your battle station?"

  "I have the honor to be gunner on the flagship,Honored One."

  "So you're at the master control, then?"

  "That is my honor, sir."

  Pat was searching desperately for an idea. Ifonly he had some way of reaching Gorben, of con­vincing him that he had been misled. But Gorben and all the others were strong in their faith, a faith which had been built by a lifetime of indoctrina­tion. No Dorchlunter would willingly disobey anorder, or go against the plan of the redhead whowas the leader of the ang
els of the gods who hadcome to lead Dorchlunt back to glory.

  Pat was just one man against a fleet of over twothousand ships, each with a complement of Taratwomen

  aboard, plus these impressive young warriors of Dorchlunt.

  "I saw you in the reviewing stand today, Hon­ored One," Gorben said. "I was pleased that youwere there."

  "Thank you," Pat said. "Your respect for us honors us," Gorben said. "Iwould that all the others had the good fortune toknow

  you and to speak with you as I have." A faint hope came to Pat, an impossible plan. "Well, we all serve the gods, Gorben." Gorben crossed himself devoutly. "And I serve one god in particular," Pat said. "Iserve the god whose name cannot be voiced." Gorben turned toward the temple, bowed hishead quickly once, twice, three times. When heturned his

  eyes were wide. "I knew, Honored One,that you were of divine importance." Pat wasn't quite sure where he was headed, didn'thave it all worked out. All the odds were againsthim,

  but there was a faint, glimmering hope, thathope reinforced by Gorben's devout reaction to the mention of the god of the priesthood, the Zedeianadmiral who had established the theocracy onDorchlunt. "Soon, my friend," he told Gorben, "we will allbe able to speak the sacred name." Gorben's eyes were wide."He will be with us?" Pat shrugged. "Who can fortell the will of thegods?"

  ELEVEN

  When Corinne admitted Pat to her apartment shewas dressed in the misty, flowing creation of aZedeian fashion designer. A priest served table asthey ate. The conversation at table was carried byCorinne, as she asked questions to delve into Pat'spast. She had to hear all about his youth onXanthos, teasingly demanding to know if he'd fallenin love with cute little girls in first school. Lovers' talk. She had a great need to knowall about him.She talked a little about herself, at Pat's insis­tence. There were a few things he hadn't been ableto put together, for example how it was possiblefor her to visit Taratwo as a guest holostar without people knowing she was the Brenden's sister. It was easily explained. As a young girl, she'd beenfarmed out as a half servant, half ward, to a well-to-do family. She'd attended school not as Corinne Brenden, but as Corinne Tower, and it had been as Corinne Tower that she rose to provincial stardom on Taratwo, and was "discovered" by a Zedeianfilmmaker. But all along she and her brother cor­responded, visited when they could, and whenBrenden latched on to a right-wing movement,rose to leadership, and, eventually, accomplisheda swift coup which made him supreme power onTaratwo, she