Poul Anderson: Flandry of Terra

“I see,” nodded the girl. “You only sketched the idea to me before. Of course, the ‘Guards’ will be Ranau men, in uniforms lifted from the car crew; and they will actually be watching Warouw every second, rather than you. But do you really think it can be done without rousing suspicion?”

“I know damn well it can,” said Flandry, “because Warouw has been promised the cage if Biocontrol does sabotage the Central prematurely. He’ll cooperate! Also, remember what slobs the Guard Corps are. A half-witted horse could cheat them at pinochle. Bandang and the other governors shouldn’t be hard to diddle either, with their own trusted Nias Warouw assuring them everything is lovely.”

“When will you come back?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Not for a good many days. We’ll take along enough scientific material for the antitoxin to be synthesized, of course… and enough other stuff to convince the Imperial entrepreneurs that Unan Besar is worth their attention. A large supply of pills will have to be made ready, ships and ships full. Because naturally Biocontrol Central will be destroyed when they arrive, by some idiot like Genseng. But the merchant fleet will know where all the dispensaries are, and be ready to supply each one instantly. It will all take a while to prepare, though.”

Flandry sought yellow Spica in the sky, which was now quickening with stars. Here they called Spica the Golden Lotus, doutbless very poetic and so on. But he felt his own depression and tiredness slide away as he thought of its colony planet, bright lights, smooth powerful machines, sky-high towers-his kind of world! And afterward there would be Home…

Luang sensed it in him. She gripped his arm and said almost in terror: “You will come back, will you not? You will not just leave everything to those merchants?”

“What?” He came startled out of his reverie. “Oh. I see. Well, honestly, darling, you’ve nothing to be afraid of. The transition may be a little violent here and there. But you’re welcome to remain at Ranau, where things will stay peaceful, until you feel like a triumphal return to Kompong Timur. Or like getting passage to the Imperial planets—”

“I don’t care about that!” she cried. “I want your oath you will return with the fleet.”

“Well-” He capitulated. “All right. I’ll come back for a while.”

“And afterward?”

“Lookhere,” he said, alarmed, “I’m as mossless a stone as you’ll find in a universe of rolling. I mean, well, if I tried to stay put anywhere, I’d be eating my fingernails in thirty days and eating the carpet in half a year. And, uh, my work isn’t such that any, well, any untrained person could—”

“Oh, never mind.” She let his arm go. Her voice was flat among the leaves. “It doesn’t matter. You need not return at all, Dominic.”

“I said I’d do that much,” he protested rather feebly.

“It doesn’t matter,” she repeated. “I never asked for more than a man could give.”

She left him. He stared after her. It was hard to tell in the dimness, but he thought she bore her head high. Almost, he followed, but as she vanished among leaves and shadows he decided it was best not to. He stood for a time under the stars, breathing the night wind. Then faintly across ten kilometers, he heard the crash and saw the flare of guns.