Джон Вэнс - Scanned by Highroller

«In ten years we'll be running our cargo to every star you can see in the night and maybe a few more. So–Magnerra, you can return and convey my message to your Ampianu General and the Lathbon. As for you Druids I doubt if you'll wish to return. There might be quite some turmoil on Kyril by the time you'd arrive.»

Gameanza asked sharply, «How is that?»

Harry's mouth twitched. «Call it a guess.»

From Harry's private sundeck, the water of Lake Alan glowed in a thousand shades of sunset. Joe sat in a chair. Beside him sat Elfane, in a simple white gown.

Harry paced up and down, talking, gesticulating, boasting. New reduction furnaces at Palinth, a hundred new schools, power units for the new farmer class, guns for his army.

«They've still got that barbarian streak,» said Harry. «They love fighting, they love the wildness, their spring festivals, their night fire-dancing. It's born and bred into 'em and I couldn't take it out of 'em if I tried.»

He winked at Joe.

«The fire-breathers I send out against the clans of Vail Macrombie–that's the other continent. I kill two birds with one stone. They work off all their belligerence against the Macrombie cannibals and they're gradually winning the continent. It's bloody, yes–but it fills a need in their souls.

«The young ones we'll bring up differently. Their heroes will be the engineers rather than the soldiers and everything should work out about the same time. The new generation will grow up while their fathers are mopping up along Matenda Cape.»

«Very ingenious,» said Joe. «And speaking of ingenuity where's Habbleyat? I haven't seen him for a day or so.»

Harry dropped into a chair. «Hableyat's gone.»

«Gone? Where?»

«Officially, I don't know–especially since we have Druids among us.» Elfane stirred.

«I'm–no longer a Druid. I've torn it out of me. Now I'm a»–she looked up at Joe–»a what?»

«An expatriate,» said Joe. «A space-waif. A woman without a country.» He looked back to Harry. «Less of the mystery. It can't be that important.»

«But it is! Maybe.»

Joe shrugged. «Suit yourself.»

«No,» said Harry, «I'll tell you. Hableyat, as you know, is in disgrace. He's out and the Magnerru Ippolito is in. Mang politics are complex and cryptic but they seem to hinge a great deal on prestige–on face. The Magnerru lost face here on Ballenkarch. If Hableyat can perform some remarkable feat he'll be back in the running. And it's to our advantage to have the Bluewaters in power on Mangtse.»

«Well?»

«I gave Hableyat all the anti-weed hormone we had– about five tons of it. He had it loaded into a ship I made available to him and took off.» Harry made a whimsical gesture. «Where he's going–I don't know.»

Elfane hissed softly under her breath, shivered, looked away out over Lake Alan, pink, gold, lavender, turquoise in the sunset. «The Tree.»

Harry rose to his feet. «Time for dinner. If that's his plan–to spray the Tree with hormone–it should be quite a show.»