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    Everyone knewDronning Margrete had arrived yesterday, in order
    that his Majesty's delegate might make a final inspection tour.
    Flandry had planned on keeping far out of sight. He snapped to a
    salute.
    "Well, well." The viscount did not rise from his chair. Only the
    blond sharp face turned. The elegantly clad body stayed relaxed, the
    voice was amused. "What have we here?"
    "Ensign Flandry, sir. I I beg pardon. Didn't mean to interrupt. I'll
    go."
    "No. Sit. Been meanin' to get hold of you. I do remember your
    name, strange as that may seem." Hauksberg nodded at Ridenour.
    "Go ahead. Just what is this difficulty you mention?"
    The xenologist scarcely noticed the newcomer, miserable on a
    chair. Weariness harshened his tone. "Perhaps I can best illustrate
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    with a typical scene, my lord, taken last week. Here's the Sisterhood
    HQ in Ujanka."
    A screen showed a room whose murals related ancient glories. A
    Terran and several Tigery females in the plumes and striped cloaks of
    authority sat in front of a vidiphone. Flandry recognized some. He
    cursed the accident which brought him here at this minute. His
    farewells in the city had hurt so much.
    Ostrova, the mistress, glared at the piscine face projected before
    her. "Never," she snapped. "Our rights and needs remain with us.
    Better death than surrender what our mothers died to gain."
    The view shifted, went underwater, where also a human team
    observed and recorded. Again Flandry saw the Temple of Sky, from
    within. Light pervaded the water, turned it into one emerald where
    the lords of the Seafolk floated free. They had summoned Isinglass
    and Evenfall for expert knowledge.Those I never did get a chance to
    say good-bye to, Flandry thought,and now I never will. Through the
    colonnade he looked down on elfin Shellgleam.
    "You would steal everything, then, through the whole cycle, as
    always you have done," said he who spoke for them. "It shall not be.
    We must have those resources, when great toil is coming upon us. Do
    not forget, we keep our guns."
    The record included the back-and-forth interpretation of
    Ridenour's men at either end, so Flandry followed the bitter
    argument in Kursovikian. Hauksberg could not, and grew restless.
    After a few minutes, he said, "Most int'restin', but s'pose you tell me
    what's goin' on."
    "A summary was prepared by our station in the Chain," Ridenour
    said. He nicked a switch. In the screen appeared a lagoon where
    sunlight glittered on wavelets and trees rustled behind a wide white
    beach: heartbreakingly beautiful. It was seen from the cabin of a
    waterboat, where a man with dark-rimmed eyes sat. He gave date and
    topic, and stated:
    "Both factions continue to assert exclusive rights to the archipelago
    fishing grounds. Largely by shading their translations, our teams
    have managed to prevent irrevocable loss of temper, but no
    compromise is yet in sight. We shall continue to press for an equitable
    arrangement. Success is anticipated, though not for a considerable
    time."
    Ridenour switched off. "You see, my lord?" he said. "We can't
    simply load these people aboard spaceships. We have to determine
    which of several possible planets are most suitable for them; and we
    have to prepare them, both in organization and education. Under
    ideal conditions, the psychic and cultural shock will still be terrible.
    Groundlaying will take years. Meanwhile, both races have to maintain
    themselves."
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    "Squabblin' over somethin' that'll be a whiff of gas in half a decade?
    Are such idiots worth savin'?"
    "They're not idiots, my lord. But our news, that their world is under
    a death sentence, has been shattering. Most of them will need a long
    while to adapt, to heal the wound, before they can think about it
    rationally. Many never will. And my lord, no matter how logical one
    believes he is, no matter how sophisticated he claims to be, he stays
    an animal. His forebrain is nothing but the handmaiden of instinct.
    Let's not look down on these Starkadians. If we and the Merseians, we
    big flashy space-conquering races, had any better sense, there'd be no
    war between us."
    "There isn't," Hauksberg said.
    "That remains to be seen, my lord."
    Hauksberg flushed. "Thank you for your show," he said coldly. "I'll
    mention it in my report."
    Ridenour pleaded. "If your Lordship would stress the need for
    more trained personnel here You've seen a little bit of what needs
    doing in this little bit of the planet. Ahead of us is the whole sphere,
    millions of individuals, thousands of societies. Many aren't even
    known to us, not so much as names, only blank spots on the map. But
    those blank spots are filled with living, thinking, feeling beings. We
    have to reach them, save them. We won't get them all, we can't, but
    each that we do rescue is one more justification for mankind's
    existence. Which God knows, my lord, needs every justification it can
    find."
    "Eloquent," Hauksberg said. "His Majesty's government'll have to
    decide how big a bureaucratic empire it wants to create for the benefit
    of some primitives. Out o' my department." He got up. Ridenour did
    too. "Good day."
    "Good day, my lord," the xenologist said. "Thank you for calling.
    Oh. Ensign Flandry. What'd you want?"
    "I came to say good-bye, sir." Flandry stood at attention. "My
    transport leaves in a few hours."
    "Well, good-bye, then. Good luck." Ridenour went so far as to come
    shake hands. But even before Hauksberg, with Flandry behind, was
    out the door, Ridenour was back at his desk.
    "Let's take a stroll beyond town," Hauksberg said. "Want to stretch
    my legs. No, beside me. We've things to discuss boy."
    "Yes, sir."
    Nothing further was said until they halted in a meadow of long
    silvery quasigrass. A breeze slid from the glaciers where mountains
    dreamed. A pair of wings cruised overhead. Were every last sentient
    Starkadian rescued, Flandry thought, they would be no more than the
    tiniest fraction of the life which joyed on this world.
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    Hauksberg's cloak flapped. He drew it about him. "Well," he said,
    looking steadily at the other. "We meet again, eh?"
    Flandry made himself give stare for stare. "Yes sir I trust the
    remainder of my lord's stay on Merseia was pleasant."
    Hauksberg uttered a laugh. "You are shameless! Will go far indeed,
    if no one shoots you first. Yes, I may say Councillor Brechdan and I
    had some rather int'restin' talks after the word came from here."
    "I & I understand you agreed to, uh, say the space battle was only
    due to both commanders mistaking their orders."
    "Right. Merseia was astonished as us to learn about the rogue after
    our forces found it by accident." Hauksberg's geniality vanished. He
    seized Flandry's arm with unexpected force and said sternly: "Any [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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