Keith Laumer - Zone Yellow

“And what of Her Highness?” Major Lst spoke up. “We’ve come this far; we can complete the mission.”

“My mission,” Gus cut in, “is to get my sweet butt back to Sodra, where it belongs!”

He looked toward poor little Minnie, where she was huddled by the door, surrounded by her faithful guardians. She stood and spoke to a fellow beside her, who almost fell down prostrating himself and unbarring the door. Before I could get my jaw open to yell, she had slipped through into the mob-roar and a glimpse of angry rat-faces. I got to the door with my pistol unlimbered, and watched her step up on the pediment of a fancy lamppost and face the crowd: The noise abated enough for me to hear her say, in that little-girl voice:

“…return to your homes, as I shall, now.”

Smovia jumped forward to dissuade her. She stepped aside from his clutch and said, “It’s all right, dear Unca Mobie. I know what to do.”

They gave way as she stepped down; there was some scuffling in the front rank between a few diehards who were still out for blood, and the cooler heads, who, being in the majority locally, suppressed the agitators. A lane opened up right across the lawn to the elegant green tower looming over the Skein terminal.

We all watched with our mouths open as she went up the broad steps to the ornate doors; all but her self-appointed escort, who hurried to form up alongside her, while the crowd took up the chant:

“Her Highness is here! Welcome to the Empress!”

Then they set up a discordant wailing that Lst told me was the anthem of the Folk. By now a pair of well-groomed rats in fancy overlong coats with brocade-and-lacework had appeared at the palace doorway, and were ushering Minnie respectfully inside.

Andy muttered a sound expressing admiration and astonishment. “Talk about class!” he commented. “And this Grgsdn thought he could replace thatl”

Swft had gotten to his feet, his leg tightly bandaged. Smovia was fluttering like a mother bird, but the general pushed him back.

“I must be at the side of Her Highness!” he insisted. “There is much that I can explain―matters which require explication!”

“Try explaining some of it to us,” Andy suggested.

“That child,” Swft stated impressively, “is the legitimate heir the mob has been howling for, spurred on by the traitors of the Two-Law party and by Grgsdn, its infamous leader. Her return will put an end to the rebellion, and”―he caught my eye and paused impressively―”to the foolish invasion attempt.”

“OK if we get out of here now?” Gus came in on cue. “I guess the little pet rat―” He got that far before Major Lst gave him the old torso-sweep and slammed him back against a flimsy partition, which collapsed. Gus, cursing loudly, extricated himself from the shattered screen, not without a few cuts from the broken glass.

“Looky here what that rat done to me!” he demanded, holding out a burly forearm bleeding from a number of superficial cuts. “Done cut me up some,” he concluded, then resumed yelling. Andy had to sock him hard under the ribs to quiet him down. He finally ran out of gas, and huddled, whimpering amid the debris.

Major Lst and I had succeeded in restraining Swft.

“We’ll go over later, sir,” the major reassured his superior. “When things have calmed down a bit. But how did Her Highness―if she really is Her Highness―come to be wandering in the forest in the company of escaped slaves?”

“We’re not escaped slaves,” I told him. “We’re with the Army of Occupation, or the Imperial Embassy, depending on how the details are sorted out.”

“Salubriously, I have no doubt, Mr. Ambassador,” Swft put in. “At ease, Major. I’ll brief you later.” He was looking anxiously out through the open door toward the Palace entry. The last of the crowd were trailing away across the plaza, carrying their wounded, with only a few scraps of paper and items of dropped equipment to indicate the recent activity.

“I’m worried, Colonel,” Smovia told me. “The poor kid is outnumbered. She can only get so far on her youth and innocence.”

“Don’t forget her instincts,” I reminded him. He nodded. “I suppose her clan has ruled here for at least as long as collies have herded sheep―and every collie pup is born with an urge to round up something.”

“Ah, Colonel,” Ben said diffidently. “Gus was, of course, out of line, but now the little female is back in her palace, surely we can give a thought to our own return home.”

Swft spoke up. “I heard your noble speech, Colonel, when I lay near death, when you vowed to carry on my mission. I now absolve you of that responsibility; I am after all, alive, thanks to the good doctor, and I can carry on from this point.”

“Not quite,” I objected. “I want to see little Minnie enthroned in state, and this Grgsdn in irons.”

Major Lst spoke up: “Gentlemen, I respectfully suggest that we form up in a military manner and proceed to the Palace as if expecting to be welcomed. The time for killing is past.”

He was right, of course. We marched over in formation. The fancy-dress sentries at the big west facade snapped to, and a moment later the liveried footmen inside were holding the ornate door open for us. Official-looking fellows came over and clustered around Swft. He seemed to be reassuring them that all was in order, and motioned me forward. I went up and was introduced to a baron and a duke, and Swft gave me full credit for saving his life, and those of several victims of the Killing. The courtiers got excited then, and questioned him closely. Then the most elaborately-braided of the bunch hurried away as if to spread the word. By now, a new crowd had formed outside, not shouting threats this time, but clamoring for Her Highness who, they shouted, had come back to overthrow the Killing.

Five minutes later, a party of uniformed Ylokk came marching into the square in good order, herding along a score or so of battered-looking fellows with the yellow badges of the hard-core Two-Law.

Swft conferred with a couple of other red-stripers, and came over to tell me all organized resistance to the restoration of order had ceased, and could he show us to our quarters now?

He could; I, for one, was so tired I couldn’t think, and the rest were in no better shape. It was the finest bed I’d ever stretched out on; I got that far in my assessment before I fell over the edge into dreamless sleep.

I woke lying on a hard army cot, with my mouth dry and my stomach complaining of neglect. We ate, cleaned up, and were escorted into the Presence.

Swft, immaculate in a new overcoat with a vivid reddish-purple stripe, was beside me.

“Her Highness made an appearance before her Folk this morning,” he told me. “When she appeared on the balcony, she was unanimously acclaimed as the rightful Empress. So we’d best call her Her Majesty’ now. Order is being restored, and Doctor Smovia’s clinic is treating as many of the ill as can make their way there. Later, we’ll send out mobile innoculation teams. The Folk feel that Her Majesty has conquered the Killing. The Two-Law party seems to have become very inconspicuous. As for Grgsdn, he’s managed to elude my dragnet, and is still hiding somewhere. If any of the escaped ‘slaves’ find him, he’ll meet the fate he deserves.”

“What about the invasion?” I wanted to know. Swft assured me that all operations had ceased, except for the schedule of shuttles bringing the troops back home. Other units were being prepared to repatriate all captives.

Minnie looked radiant. She ran to Smovia and hugged him, before being shooed off by a dignified elderly female.