The Isis approached Tralee from the night side, and at a time when the planet's the sun. Tralee was not a for Mekinese war-craft. To the contrary, it was a world. It was for Mekinese ships to be able to appear as if and without in its skies. There would be no far-ranging on the at its spaceport. Mekinese ships come out of overdrive, time a solar-system-drive approach to arrive at Tralee's in darkness, and be overhead when broke. Such an had upon the population.
Bors used the same device with modifications.
His ship out of the and across a continent, as it flew. When it the planet's city, there had been less than a minute the by and its naked-eye visibility. When it came into at the it was less than four thousand high and it for the landing-grid at something over one. Its emergency-rockets roared. It and the upper of the great, metal with less than a hundred to spare. In of an additional minute it was some fifty yards from the office. Steam and rose from where its rocket-flames had played.
Lock-doors opened. Briskly moving landing-parties across the ground toward the grid-control building. There were two ships already in the spaceport. One was a Mekinese guard-ship of the of the Isis. Weapons upon it. Missiles across the half-mile of distance. They detonated, chemical only. The Mekinese guard-ship apart. What was not as a ship. It was fragments.
Bors asked curtly, "Grid office?"
The landing-party was inside. A small came out of a speaker. A voice said:
"All secure in the office, sir."
"Hook in to broadcast, a first-priority emergency, and your tape," Bors.
He said over the ship's speakers, "Everything going well so far. Prize crew, take the cargo-ship. Keep the aboard. Then report."
Ten men out of the light cruiser's port and on the toward the other ship aground. The on Bors's ship did not upon it.
The sun shone. Clouds across the sky. Masses of from the demolition-missiles that had the guard-ship rose, and very slowly dissipated. Ten men entered the cargo-ship.
Up to now the entire had not more than five minutes, from the of a on a screen, to the of a full-volume broadcast. Bors on the and to the voice—especially from among the crew—which now came out of every on the planet.
"Notice to the people of Tralee! There is on Tralee a ship with no home any to its of Mekin. We were part of the of Kandar until that was destroyed. Now we Mekin alone! We are pirates. We are outcasts. But we still have arms to ourselves with! We demand...."
A voice said in Bors's ear, "Cargo-ship secured, sir."
"Take off on and as ordered," said Bors. "Then as arranged."
He returned his attention to the broadcast. It was a savage, desperate, message to the people of Tralee. It and arms on threat of the city around it. A single one of its combat-missiles, as a of fact, have done a good job of on this metropolis.
The would be a to men who had themselves to by the of Mekin. The Tralee was now for the of Mekin by the of men who would do such work. They that they in office only so long as Mekin them. To their if only by a single voice....
There was a outside. The cargo-ship took off for the skies. It was a thousand high the on the Isis stirred. It to those that the was taken by the cargo-ship's escape. That was part of Bors's plan.
A of the Isis roared. A after the fugitive, and missed. It on past its and did not at nearest proximity, as it should have done. It vanished, and the cargo-ship to in fashion. It from its lift, and away and for at its maximum acceleration. A second from the fighting-ship missed. The cargo-ship dwindled, and dwindled, and now the Isis appeared to take of the and of its target. It might be that its needed to be from the long-range-finding in space, to the shorter-range called for now.
Something after the cargo-boat, by now a pin-point in the blue. The object moved so that it was invisible. Then it detonated, and the of the out the fugitive. When they cleared, the sky was empty.
There had now been a of less than ten minutes from the of the Isis toward the spaceport. The guard-ship had been and the cargo-ship which to had been destroyed. When someone had to think, it would appear that the cargo-boat's had overcome the party which entered it and then taken the of flight.
Bors waited, absently. A voice:
"All clear on the prize, sir. The to be mostly foodstuffs, sir. Proceeding to as ordered. Off."
Bors and to the broadcast. Matters were going well. Everything had gone through with the of clockwork, which meant that Bors had planned in detail something that had been and so had not been counter-planned. Before anyone on Tralee that anything had happened, had happened—the Isis aground, the guard-ship demolished, the taken over, and a cargo-ship in the upper atmosphere. And a voice now out of everywhere, threats, Mekin—few their ears—and which Bors were to be disappointed.
The cut off in the middle of a syllable. Somebody had come to that he what he he heard. Now there would be reaction. At the sunrise-line on Tralee only a of people were awake. They were dumbfounded. Where people breakfasted, the voice food unimportant. Where it was midday, of over the land.
"Call the defense forces," Bors the office, by transmitter. "They'll be Mekinese—Mekinese-officered, anyhow. We don't want them to ideas of us, so identify us as the ship Isis and order all police and to where they are. Say we've got all our fusion-bombs to go off in case of an artillery-fire hit."
This was the most of all possible against the most of attack. Fusion-bombs be used against in space, or for the of a population, but they not be used in police operations against a people. To people one must avoid them. So while a ship the size of the Isis could—and did—carry in its to an area hundreds of miles across, the of Mekin not use such weapons. They needed blast-rifles for minor and for destruction. In any case no man would try to the Isis after an that its were armed, and that they were to explode.
"Now repeat the for stores," ordered Bors. "We might as well stock up. Speed is essential. We can't use stores they've time to booby-trap or poison. Give them twenty minutes to start the arriving. Demand fuel, rocket-fuel especially. Remind them about our bombs."
He waited. Speakers him him of any action or the ship. The landing-party in the reported as it through the records, up such Mekinese regulations, identification-calls and ship-movements as might prove useful elsewhere. The voice to again. It on for fifteen and cut off.
"Tell the government that if they stop our broadcast," said Bors, "we'll a bomb into the police and the supply-depots."
He the threat and very soon an voice to the people of Tralee that a ship was in of the planet's and that it upon to the planet's people. It was to refuse. Therefore the would continue, but of citizens turn off their sets.
There came a of anger and the harsh-voiced returned to the air. His had out. Now he such at the officials of Tralee-under-Mekin that Bors sourly. It was not good for Mekinese to have a people know that one ship the empire, for minutes. It was still less to have the members of the government as dogs of particularly breeds, of particularly characteristics, and particular of legitimacy. Bors had for his a man of and large vocabulary. He did not want the Isis to appear under discipline, it to act under orders. He wanted to create the of men they for had been destroyed, and who now were among the Mekin had subjugated.
The was not to revolt, Bors's ship was as the only of a planet's fleet. But it such and and of all Mekinese that for months to come men would on what an Isis had said on Tralee's air. The respect the planet's officials would its low level.
Time passed. Bors, of course, not send a landing-party anywhere, it be sniped. He had actually the purpose for which he'd landed, the of a of food out to space, the of the of Kandar's and the of and for Mekin in Tralee. Now he had to keep anyone from the of the cargo-ship. The for stores was a cover-up for already done. But that cover-up had to be completed.
Vehicles appeared at the of the landing-grid. Figures individually, white flags. Bors sent men out with small arms to their messages. These were the he'd demanded. Food. Rocket-fuel. More food.
The vehicles into the open and stopped. Men from the Isis away the and took over the trucks. They most of them to the ship's side. A petty-officer came into the room and saluted.
"Sir," he said briskly. "One of the told me his of had time-bombs in it. The police use time-bombs and booby-traps here, sir, to keep the people terrified. He says the will go off after we're out in space, sir."
"What did you do?" asked Bors.
"I the and I couldn't start it. Two other off our men. We left those trucks and some others out on the field, so the wouldn't be of us."
"Good work," said Bors. "Better put on all from all trucks them aboard."
"Booby-traps can be very indeed, but when they are used by police...." Bors allowed himself to for a moment only, at the idea of that of by a government on its citizens. It would be to the idea that what is not for the ordinary citizen to do is to him. But secret-police booby-traps and time-bombs would be standardized. He hadn't allowed time for complex, detection-proof to be made. Detectors would out any ordinary trickery.
The harsh-voiced to the population of Tralee, of which the least of his was high treason. They the very much.
Presently Bors to fidget. The Isis had been for thirty-five minutes. He had sat in the room that whole time, a smoothly-running operation. He had had to it. Nobody else have planned and it out. But it was not heroic. He had the line officer's for officers, who are necessary but not or admired. He was with just that of now. But he fretted. The local officials were time to over their panic. They ought to be some counter-measure by this time.
He called the office.
"There should be a map of the city about," he said crisply. "Send it along special. Bring a call-book. If you any news-reports, new or old, we want them."
"Yes, sir," said a voice. "The broadcast's right, sir?"
"It is," said Bors. "You're the set-up. We'll it we leave. There's no point in Mekin set transports with to people they the Mekinese described. Make 'em land on and there won't be so many landing."
"Yes, sir. Will do, sir."
A click. Bors materials being aboard. Each object was being by a detector. The stopped. Bors pressed a button.
"What happened?" he demanded.
"Looks like a booby-trapped box, sir," said a voice. "Among the supplies, sir."
"Take it off a hundred yards and it," ordered Bors. "This may settle a problem for us."
"Yes, sir."
Bors again. A messenger from the grid-control arrived. He had a map of the city of Tralee.
There was an explosion. A one. Bors looked out a port and saw where the parcel had been set up as a a hundred yards from the ship. It had been with blast-rifle bolts, and had exploded. It might not have the Isis if it had in space, but it would not have done it any good.
Bors pushed the for the loading-port compartment.
"Throw out all the so far," he commanded. "Some of it may be booby-trapped like that last one. We won't take a chance. Heave it all out again."
"Yes, sir."
Bors gave other orders. The harsh-voiced stopped. Bors's own voice out on the air, steely-hard.
"Captain Bors, ship Isis speaking," he said coldly. "We supplies. They were sent us—government-supplied. We have one booby-trap included. In for this assassination, we are going to chemical-explosive into the government of this city. We give three minutes' for and other to clear of those buildings. The three minutes start now!"
The sun on the Tralee. White clouds with across the sky. There was no motion of any the wide, open area of the landing-grid. Over a large part of this world's surface all activity had stopped while men to a broadcast.
"Fifteen gone," said Bors icily.
He out an order and passed it for execution.
"Thirty gone."
From twenty in the city, a black of to pour. When they the street, they on running. They wanted to as as possible from the Bors had said would be destroyed.
"Forty-five gone," said Bors implacably.
A voice spoke from the grid-control building, where men were now with calculated effects. The voice came on to the ship.
"Sir," said the voice, "landing-grid reporting. Space-yacht Sylva reports from and for landing. Purpose of visit, pleasure-travel."
Bors swore, then to himself. Gwenlyn had to do something drastic!
"Say landing's forbidden," he an later. "Advise departure."
He pressed a and said evenly:
"One minute gone! In two minutes more we send our and take off."
Streets the government were from building-wall to building-wall by to staff the incredible, government set up on its worlds by Mekin. Bors a list of to be on. The map from the office would help. He marked the Ministry of Police, which would the records to the operation of the planet-wide police system. Anything that to those records would be so much good for Tralee, and so much for the master and its quislings. He marked the Ministry of the Interior, which would house the for of to Mekin. The Ministry of Public Order would be the of the and the political police. It ran the forced-labor camps. It all accusations. It records on all of the of patriotism. If anything to those records, it would be all to the good.
"Two minutes gone," said Bors.
The voice from the said briskly:
"Demolition placed, sir. Ready to and fire. Sir, the space-yacht Sylva sends a message to the captain of the ship. It says they'll wait."
Bors said, "Damn! All right." Then into the broadcast-microphone, "Two-and-a-half minutes. There will be no count-down. In thirty we fire into government buildings, in for an attempt to us with time-bombs. The next you will be our arriving." He cut to the grid-control building. "Fire all and report to the ship."
Almost curt, reports nearby. The landing-party came to the airlock, while in the they'd left.
"Launcher-tubes train on targets," Bors commanded. He pressed another button. "Rocket-room, make for lift." Back to the launcher-tube communicator. "Fire one, two, three, four, five, six."
There were boomings, which rose to as away from the Isis's launching-tubes. Bors said to the rocket-room:
"Take her up!"
And then the ship on her rockets—they were not for use, as on cargo-ships—and toward the sky. As the ship on its of smoke, other up. Six of them. But they were limited. They up two thousand and then to mushroom. Bits of higher and spread more widely, and for a time there were of and their about.
But the ship upward. The city and the open country it swiftly. The of in the city were left behind. Mountains appeared at one and a sea at another. Then the of the a edge, and the ship again up and up—while the sky dark and some appeared in with the sun—and the surface of Tralee visibly the near of an globe.
Then the what it was, a great in space, one-half of it in the and one part of it in night.
Bors put on the solar-system drive and course. A voice came through:
"Calling ship ... calling ship.... Space Sylva calling ship...."
Bors into a microphone, "What the are you doing in this place. What's happened?"
Gwenlyn's voice, and amused. "Nothing happened. But we've got some news for you. Make at the fourth planet?"
Bors again. That was where he was to meet the cargo-ship and sent aloft, on Tralee. But he on out, around and away from Tralee.
He was satisfied with his landing on Tralee. With some luck, the news of the landing of a of the Kandarian might Mekin it was aware of what had to its force. With a little more luck, the attention of Mekin would be more to a ship which to turn than to Kandar itself. With unlimited fortune, Mekin might actually send ships to the Isis of questions on Kandar.
But Bors a note. The more time that passed Mekin what had happened, the better. So a ship or two or three might be from the and sent to off Kandar. If a single ship came inquiringly, it might be and the news of Kandar for a while longer. And it was that Mekin might come to worry more about other than the success or failure of a of its empire.
The fourth up on schedule. Bors was irritated, as often before, by the slow solar-system drive. Overdrive was sometimes not fast enough—but solar-system drive was slow. Yet one couldn't use in a system. Approaching a on would be like trying to a ground-car at sixty miles an hour. One couldn't stop where one wanted to. He if Logan, the Talent, such a problem, and the idea. One a with an of microseconds, but that wouldn't be close for overdrive. It wouldn't be practical.
Then the ice-sheet of Tralee's nearest neighbor spread out in the vision-port's range of view. Bors called for the cargo-ship. It answered almost immediately. It was practice, of course, that the site of a meeting planned at a would be its pointed nearest to north. The cargo-ship had just arrived. It the Sylva to call again.
The three ships, then, joined their and about the glacier-world them while they conferred.
The report from the cargo-ship was satisfactory. It had been almost loaded, and its was for Mekin. Kandar's fleet-in-hiding was already on rations. This of foods would be welcome. Bors gave orders for it to for Glamis immediately, in overdrive.
Communication had been three-way, and Gwenlyn said quickly;
"Just a moment! Did you up any news-reports on Tralee?"
"Hm. Yes. I'd send them—"
"You'd better?" Gwenlyn, scolding. "My father with the to try to what Talents, Incorporated can do! He most of the Talents with him, for demonstrations! The Department for Predicting Dirty Tricks is there! Don't you what that Department on? Of you've got to send those news-reports!"
Bors ordered a space-boat to come from the cargo-ship for the reports.
"Would you like to come to dinner on the yacht?" asked Gwenlyn. "You're all on rations. Nobody asked us to our with the fleet. I can give you a meal."
"Better not," said Bors curtly, and thanks.
He ordered the cargo-ship to send as much of its stores as the space-boat carry.
"Then how about some cigars?" asked Gwenlyn. She at once and approving, Bors would not himself in a satisfying while his on from foodstuffs.
"No," said Bors. "No either. You said you had some news for me. What is it?"
"I along our ship-arrival Talent," said Gwenlyn blandly. "He can only tell when a ship will arrive at the where he is, so he had to come here to precognize."
Bors again that which Talents, Incorporated would always in a mind like his.
"There'll be a ship here in two days, four hours, sixteen minutes from now," said Gwenlyn matter-of-factly. "He thinks it's a ship, though he can't be sure. It be a or something like that doing duty, to deliver orders and reports. You can't an without a regular news system, and Mekin wouldn't on ships for government business."
"Good!" said Bors. "Thanks!"
There was a pause.
"What will you do now?"
"Try to the else," said Bors. "Try to up another food-ship, probably. Maybe I ought to let this ship alone, to news of the ship Isis to Mekin, but— No. They use booby-traps as police devices!"
It was not reasonable, but Bors not think of missing a Mekinese warship. The idea of a government using booby-traps to its orders somehow put it forgiveness, and with the government all those who it willingly.
"You'll go to Garen then?" asked Gwenlyn.
Bors a of annoyance. He had the choice of Garen Three as the next to be by the pseudo-pirate ship. It was to that Gwenlyn about it. Blast Talents, Incorporated!
"The Talent," said Gwenlyn, "says there's a there. There've been some riots. The people of Garen don't like Mekin, either. Strange? The is to them."
"How do you know that?" Bors.
"The Department for Predicting Dirty Tricks was reading old news-reports," she told him. "We're now. 'Bye."
"Goodbye," said Bors, and sighed, not he or relief.
The space-yacht Sylva out of sight. It had gone into overdrive. Bors that he hadn't noticed which way it pointed. He should have taken note. But he his head. He gave the cargo-ship orders, its space-boat and what food it had been able to bring. He sent it off to meet his at Glamis.
He in around the fourth to wait for a Mekinese fighting-ship. He began, too, to make long-range plans.
Part Three
