Produced by Al Haines
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A MATTER OF HONOR
A Terran Empire novel
by Ann Wilson
Copyright (C) 1992 by Ann Wilson
I
Irschcha, 2569 CE
Chaos take those Imperial schools anyway!
It was all their fault, Thark growled to himself, increasing his paceas the sleek lines of his ship came into view. Not even the prospectof flying the Prowler lightened his mood this time. The Chaos-lovingschools had done too much! They were fine for the unTalented, likehumans and now Traiti, but they had probably precipitated a disasterhere on Irschcha. Their damnable stress on Imperial rather thanplanetary allegiance was to blame; it had deprived him of the strongestTalent to appear in many years, Corina Losinj--and it would cost Corinaher life soon, if it hadn't already.
He was practically running toward his small ship now, dignity forgottenin the need for haste. "Dammit all to hell!" he burst out, the humancurse seeming oddly appropriate under the circumstances. If the TerranEmpire hadn't discovered Irschcha for another century, or if Chearhadn't chosen to affiliate with it, none of this would have had tohappen.
As Thark neared the ship, he forced his thoughts and emotions undercontrol, away from such useless speculations. He was High Adept of theWhite Order now, not Chear, and it was up to him to correct Chear'serror. His calm voice did not betray his feelings when he returned thesalute of the gray-kilted Sanctioner standing at the foot of theboarding ramp.
"Greetings, Master Thark," the Sanctioner said.
"Greetings, Underofficer Jamar. What is Prowler's status?"
"Senior Adepts Valla and Kainor are already on board, as is the rest ofmy squad. The ship is ready for takeoff."
"Excellent," Thark said. "Then we leave immediately. We have no timeto waste." He hurried up the ramp into the ship.
Jamar followed, stopping to raise the ramp and close the lock. Tharkwent on to the cockpit and secured himself in the pilot's seat,scanning his instrumentation. He was an accomplished pilot, and ratherto his surprise he found that the pre-liftoff routine did ease hismood, even under such unpleasant circumstances.
His ears went forward in satisfaction. Jamar had surpassed himself;the only thing left was to alert his crew and passengers for immediatetakeoff. He did so, then fed full power to the null-gravs. There wasno need to wait for clearance; this was a private field, one of hisprerogatives as High Adept, and the Prowler, as his ship, had anautomatic clearance superseding any other in this system save anImperial Navy ship.
As soon as they were a safe ten diameters out from Irschcha heactivated the hyperdrive, then unstrapped himself and rose. Prowler'scourse to Rendavi, the Crusade leaders' rendezvous, had been fed intothe navigation computer several days ago and been updated automaticallyevery hour since.
He started to leave the cockpit. Once the transition into hyperspacehad been made, there was no need for a pilot until it was time toout-transition and land.
Still--at the moment, he really didn't feel like talking to hislieutenants. He returned to the controls and sat down, staring intothe blank viewscreen and visualizing the morning's unexpected, perhapsdisastrous, developments. Perhaps if he had handled thingsdifferently . . .
* * * * *
He had spent most of the week arranging things so he would be free allday today, knowing such things would not be possible for much longer.The weather had cooperated almost as if it were intelligent and sensedthe importance of this meeting. Although it was still early spring,the day was a brilliant one, the temperature a comfortable fifteendegrees. He had taken advantage of that, deciding to have Corina'sfinal lesson out on the sundeck.
He took several seating cushions outside and arranged them so the sunwould warm them, yet not glare into his or Corina's eyes. Then heleaned back on one set of the cushions to wait for her. Relaxingalmost totally, he watched a small cloud drifting in the clear greensky. The sun's gentle warmth on his fur was thoroughly enjoyable. Itwas indeed a pleasant change, he mused, to be able to relish such a daywith no duties to interfere. His position as High Adept made suchluxuries all too rare.
Corina's lessons were a self-imposed duty, one he was pleased he hadassumed. He was looking forward to her initiation into the WhiteOrder, and the fact that he had trained her himself would make thatdoubly enjoyable.
It was fortunate that Corina was available to the Order at all. HerTalent had been deeply latent, not developing until quite late.Because of that, she had been missed by the Order's usual pre-schooltesting. That, Thark thought, still bitter, was one of the few thingsthe Empire's very presence had not changed. Although the examiner hadbelieved she had sensed something, Corina had been unable to receiveeven the simplest thoughts, and had not had even a trace of mentalscreen.
She had been seventeen, close to eighteen years old by the new ImperialStandard measure, when she had found herself beginning to pick upthoughts. She had gone, naturally enough, to a local Order chapter forhelp and possible training. The chapter had reported it to him,knowing he would be interested; when Talent appeared so late it wasalmost always minimal, usually only telepathy and a weak mind-screen,and the tester had been astonished at Corina's strength.
Thark had been surprised himself when he scanned her. It was then thathe had decided to take her as his private student. Four years'training had brought out her potential, the power he had sensed sheshould be able to control, when they met. It would be formallyrecognized soon, when she was initiated; then Thark could bring herinto the Prime Chapter, where the Order could make full use of herTalents. He had no intention whatever of letting them go to waste.Senior Adept Corina of the White Order, he thought--yes, it had apleasant ring. He and the others of the Prime Chapter already thoughtof her that way, used her last name only when formality required it.
He caught sight of her then, and watched her come up the rubberoid walkto his raised sundeck. As usual, she was precisely on time. And shecertainly wasn't difficult to spot; all her kilts were bright, but thered-and-gold one she favored and was wearing today was positivelygaudy. Urr, perhaps her taste would improve as she matured. He lookeddown at his own kilt, a conservative dark blue that went well with thetawny shade of his fur. That, with its sporran, was one of the fewhuman innovations he appreciated.
Corina purred softly in pleasure when she saw Thark out on the sundeck.Truly, this weather was too good to waste any of it indoors, especiallyat this time of year. He stood as she approached.
"Good day, Master Thark," she said with a slight bow, her hands openand raised to shoulder level.
Thark returned the formal bow. "Good day, Student Losinj. Bewelcome."
Formalities were certainly briefer since Irschcha had joined theEmpire, Thark thought. He wasn't sure yet whether he approved of thator not. They had been time-consuming, but they had also given life acertain grace that now seemed lacking, and had provided a sociallubricant that Irschchans, in his opinion, needed. He could be wrong,though, he thought as he returned to his cushions.
Corina sat facing him. "What is today's lesson, Master?"
"At this stage, it is up to you to tell me. Further training will bedirected to any area in which you feel deficient."
Her mind-shield was down, s
o he could sense, as well as hear, hersurprise. "I do not understand."
"The only thing you truly require now is more confidence in yourself.Otherwise you are fully ready for initiation, and I would like to seethat take place as soon as possible."
Corina shook her head slowly. "I do not feel ready to take on suchresponsibilities, Master. I have not had the psychological preparationof those who have attended Order schools."
"Your feelings are understandable," Thark said sympathetically. "Youknow, however, that you already have as much power and control as anySenior in the Prime Chapter."
"Urrr . . ." She hesitated. "You may be correct. I did stalemateSenior Valla in our last practice session."
"Yes, she told me about it. She was quite pleased. She and Kainoragree with me that you are ready, and if you are willing, they haveasked to stand as your sponsors."
"I would be most honored to have them as sponsors," Corina said,inclining her head. "What do you plan for me after initiation?"
"I want to bring you into the Prime Chapter, where one with your amountof Talent belongs. As for a specific job, we think such Talent, inconjunction with your other abilities, can best be utilized as a rovingsupervisor in Valla's Intelligence Division."
Corina considered that. It would be a most interesting job, she had nodoubt. The Intelligence Division got the most difficult cases theSanctioners had to cope with, and since they were Irschcha's military,as well as its police, the variety of such cases was truly remarkable.It was tempting, though she questioned whether she would be able to dowell at it. "I have not yet finished school," she objected.
"I have not forgotten. Until you graduate, you will work as Valla'sassistant after class. She will train you for the job."
"Yes, Master, I believe I would like that. But the Prime Chapter . . ."
"You will not be expected to participate fully until you do graduate,Corina. By that time you should be sure enough of yourself to functionproperly as a Senior."
"Under those conditions, I can honorably agree."
"Excellent!" Thark let his pleasure show. "As part of your furtherdevelopment, I would like you to do some teaching. Through teachingothers, you will learn more yourself--and more of yourself."
"That I will do gladly. I do not feel as fully qualified as I shouldbe."
"Perhaps not, but your Talent is truly remarkable." Thark purred. Bythe time he was ready to step down, she should be capable of takingover leadership of the Order. By then, if his Crusade were successful,it would have taken over rule of the Empire from the unTalented humans.The end of the Traiti War made that a probability in the near future.
Humans weren't stupid, he thought. In fact, some were quiteintelligent. And the Empire was, as far as it went, a fairly goodbasis for government. It was simply that those with Talent hadsuperior abilities, thus were better qualified to rule. And to rule,the Order must rebel.
He had not been fully shielded, he realized when he saw the look onCorina's face. "What Crusade?" she asked curiously.
Thark felt her probing for more information, and reinforced his shield."Do not concern yourself with that," he advised. "You should knownothing about it until after your initiation."
"Why not?"
"Because it is Order business, and you are not yet sworn to the Order."
"Oh." She seemed to accept that, but Thark was familiar with hercuriosity, and it would be no surprise to him if she kept trying tofind out. He would have to be careful to keep his shield up.
"All I can tell you now," he said, hoping to ease that curiosity, "isthat it will bring proper symmetry to the Cosmos."
That statement served only to make Corina even more curious. Thark hadseemed preoccupied for the last half year, and so had the other Seniorsshe knew. It was clear that something was going on; she had sensed itfor some time. She had asked nothing about what she felt, knowing thatThark was reluctant to discuss it. Now, though, it appeared thatwhatever this "Crusade" was, it concerned her own future. That fact,she felt, gave her the right to know about it.
She probed at Thark's shield again, but he was too strong for her topenetrate it. All she knew was what she had overheard, and even thenshe had gotten little information. Only the term "Crusade," the factthat she was somehow involved, and a mixed feeling of obligation andimpending triumph. But what kind of triumph, and over what? Or . . .who?
"Is it something that will affect the Empire?" she asked.
"Something that will improve it," Thark replied. "You must admit it isnot perfect--"
He was interrupted by a mindcall from Valla, head of the Sanctionersand his chief lieutenant. *What is it, Thark? I felt yourdisturbance--*
*Not now, Valla!*
Her thought cut off, but too late; the momentary distraction hadenabled Corina to break through his lowered shield. He could see, aswell as feel, her reaction, and it was what he had feared.
Corina was both shocked and angry. Shocked that Thark would even plansuch a rebellion, and angry that he had expected her to participate.Thark had not been raised as an Imperial citizen; she had, and couldnot understand his desire for change. Yet she liked him as a friend aswell as respecting him as a teacher--she did not want to believe hewould actually go through with such a thing.
Her thoughts were a turmoil of conflicting loyalties. The Empire, shehad been taught and firmly believed, was what kept the peace betweenplanets and systems, while allowing maximum freedom on-planet throughthe ruling nobility. Thark retained his title of High Adept, though hecould have claimed the title of Planetary Baron, and was virtually aspowerful as he would have been before the Empire.
Why, then, did he want change? Perhaps that should not concern her asmuch as the mere fact that he did. She was due for initiation; inhonor, could she oppose him? Or was it her duty as an Imperial citizento do so? She was bound by no oaths, and so free to choose. Blades!she thought angrily. Why did Thark put her in such a position?
Perhaps if she got more information she would know what to do. Keepingher voice steady, she asked, "Is such a rebellion not simple treason,Master Thark? Will it not destroy the Empire, rather than improve it?"
Thark looked closely at his student. It was natural for her to beconcerned; he himself was not particularly fond of the idea of thebloodshed that now appeared necessary. At the very minimum, theEmperor, Rangers, and nobility would have to be eliminated, and he knewfull well that there would be others.
"It might be so construed, but it is something that cannot be helped,"he said calmly. "You should be able to understand that for yourself.Look at the peace and balance that rule by the Order has broughtIrschcha since it was founded, then look at the constant unrest andcontroversy elsewhere in the Empire. Which is better?"
Corina shifted uncomfortably. "Peace, of course." She hesitated, thensaid, "But rebellion is no way to bring true peace. And there is agreat difference between ruling one race on one planet and ruling anEmpire of thousands of worlds."
"Less than you might think," Thark replied, pleased at her composure.A difference of opinion need not be disorderly, and her temper at timeslike this was uncertain. "We need only replace key people with our ownmost strongly Talented initiates. The bureaucracy and computers will,as they do now, handle day-to-day operations."
"And because you possess the strongest Talent, naturally you willbecome Emperor?" There was a distinct trace of sarcasm in thatquestion.
"Of course," Thark said, mildly surprised and ignoring the tone of hervoice. "It is not something I particularly want to do--" He brokeoff, looked at her sharply. "It is indeed unfortunate that you did notattend an Order school."
He probed gently. She was angry, of course; he could tell that eventhrough her shield, but she seemed to be keeping her emotions undertight control. Good. She might still be amenable to reason.
"I have told you many times," he said patiently, "that possession ofTalent carries with it a certain responsibility. We of the Order
areable to use our Talent to govern better than do those who lack it.Honor demands that we do so. We cannot avoid our duty."
He could feel her rejection of that argument even before she spoke."That may apply to Irschcha, but it is obviously not true of humans.They did quite well before MacLeod found us, despite their lack ofTalent. You must agree that things have improved for Irschcha since wejoined the Empire."
"Some things, yes," Thark admitted. "We have hyperships now, like myProwler; we are benefitting from trade with other systems; we arestarting out-system colonies ourselves; we have people in the ImperialServices--"
"And in the Emperor's own Palace Guard!" Corina interrupted.
"But that is not enough!"
"Is that not considerable progress since they found us only forty-threeStandard years ago? Can you truly expect more so soon? We are only asmall part of the Empire."
"I cannot accept that," Thark growled. "We are being humiliated! Wemust even use human units of measurement. Standard years? Terranyears is what you mean!"
"Still--"
"We have no one in the nobility except for myself," Thark continued,ignoring her attempted protest. "No Irschchan is a Ranger, nonecommand major military ships or bases. Does that seem equitable toyou?"
"It does not seem inequitable, simply on the basis of numbers," Corinapointed out. "Humans occupy thousands of worlds, the Traiti hundreds,while we occupy only this one completely. And it is possible they havetalents or abilities we lack."
Thark groaned inwardly. This was not going well, but she was toovaluable to lose; he would have to keep trying.
"They do not," he told her. "I have scanned a large number of humans,tourists and administrative officials alike. They have no indicationof Talent or anything else unusual, except perhaps an occasional traceof screen. They are exactly what they seem. All they have is a verysophisticated technology."
"Perhaps that is their talent," Corina said. "It was they who foundus; we did not find them. Or perhaps their special ability is evenrarer with them than Talent is with us."
"If that is the case," Thark replied, "it would seem they either cannotuse it to govern properly, or refuse to do so. In either case, ourduty is clear."
He was silent then, perceiving her need to think.
Corina was deeply disturbed. Thark's arguments were plausible, atleast on the surface, but she found them unsatisfying. Tourists andadministrative officials were not the Empire's best examples,especially the tourists. Thark claimed his motive wasunselfish--duty--and she knew him well enough to believe he trulythought so. But what if he was wrong?
Chaos take it! Peace was important, and she could see it as aresult--perhaps--of Thark's rebellion. But first there would be muchdeath and destruction. With the Traiti War barely over, what Tharkplanned might as easily trigger a disaster as lead to the peace heexpected.
It was a difficult decision; no matter what she did, people would bekilled. Yet Thark himself had taught her that her responsibility toIrschcha ought to be paramount, and that meant she had no choice but tosupport the Empire that had done so much for it. In honor, that wasthe only way she could decide. Irschcha had made more progress in itsforty-three years since joining the Empire than in any span ten timesthat long under the Order.
Once her decision was made, she did not hesitate. She stood, then saidwith a return to strict formality, "I can regard your Crusade asnothing but treason, Thark. I can no longer call you Master."
Thark also rose, nodding his acceptance. At least, he thought, she wasacting as he had taught her, with honor and decorum. "Then we areenemies. I truly regret that, necessary as it is. Will you at leastgive me your word that you will not go to the Imperial authorities?"He knew the answer even as he asked the question, but it was apropriety he had to observe.
"I cannot do that," Corina said. "You have taught me too well.Failing to act now, on what I am positive is right, would be asdishonorable as treason itself."
"It would indeed," Thark replied with regret. "You leave me no choice.I cannot kill a guest in my home; to do that would bring only shame.However, I cannot let you live to reach the Imperials with thisinformation, either. And I most certainly will not allow you to aidtheir cause."
Fear almost weakened Corina's resolve. She did not want to die, butdeath seemed unavoidable. If she thought about it too much, though,she might give in, and that would be worse. "I must try," she saidsteadily. "What of my family?"
"The decision was yours, not theirs," Thark replied. "It will not beheld against them. If you wish, I will give them your soul-blade."
"I am not yet dead," Corina said, caressing the dagger's hilt. Sheturned and left.
"No," Thark said softly, watching her leave. "Not yet." As soon asshe was out of sight, he mindcalled his lieutenant. *Valla? I have ajob for you.*
*Yes?* came the calm reply.
*Corina Losinj must be eliminated. She broke through my shield whenyour call distracted me, and discovered the Crusade. She has justleft, and is going to report to the Imperials.*
*Corina!* Valla's thought was surprised. *But I thought--* Shehesitated. *Are you sure, Master? Why would she--*
*Apparently her lack of Order schooling. I cannot fault her; it issimply that her loyalties lie with the Empire rather than with us.Still, she is a danger which must be eliminated.*
*Understood, Master. She was a good friend, and most Talented.* Vallahad felt the regret in Thark's mental touch, and shared it, but therewas no time for emotion now. *This is an unfortunate happening. Iwill take care of it.*
*With your usual efficiency, of course. But not personally. Arrangeit. Tell the Sanctioners she is wearing that red-and-gold kilt. Thenbring Kainor and meet me at my ship. She is forcing me to speed up thetimetable; the Prime Chapter and other Crusade leaders are to gather assoon as possible on Rendavi. Inform your people.*
*How do you wish her to die?*
*She has betrayed her Talent; let her be destroyed by Talent. Tellyour executioner to use darlas.* Thark regretted that, in a way; deathby telepathic attack was exquisitely painful. But it was just, and itwas honorable.
*What of her family?* Valla asked.
*They are oathbound. Disregard them.*
*Yes, Master Thark. Are there further instructions?*
*No.*
Thark broke the contact, then made three more briefer ones before hisgeneral broadcast to the off-planet Crusade leaders. Once they hadbeen informed of the accelerated schedule, he was free to leave for hisprivate spacefield and the Prowler.
* * * * *
Thark's attention focused again on his immediate surroundings, theProwler's control room. In retrospect, he was as sure of Corina'sthoughts as if he had read them. He laid his ears back in a frown.No, he could see no way he might have changed the morning's events. Itwas most regrettable, both the loss of such a Talent and Corina'sdeath. He was still quite fond of her.
But enough of these useless memories, Thark told himself sternly. Whathad happened could not be changed. He should join his passengers. Herose, giving his instrument panel an automatic scan as he rose. Urrr--the proximity alarm! He'd forgotten to turn it on, a mistake he'd nothave made but for Corina's defection. He sat back down and correctedhis error, wondering if there were any others he'd made in his chagrinover Corina's betrayal.
* * * * *
Corina was thinking in rapid, frightened bursts as she left Thark'shome. She was certain he would lose no time in sending theexecutioners after her, probably Sanctioners. She was not particularlyoptimistic about making it safely to the Planetary Palace and theImperial authorities.
Thark's home was ten kilometers north of the capital city, MacLeod'sLanding. It would be a long, time-consuming walk, but what choice didshe have? With Sanctioners on her trail, using her identification tocall for public transportation at one of the hailing posts would be afatal mistake.
/> The occasional clumps of bushes bordering the street's short-croppedgrass gave her an idea. She was fairly conspicuous; there were fewpedestrians this far from the city, and as Thark had told her oftenenough, she did dress rather gaudily. She made her way into one of theclumps, took off her kilt, turned it inside-out, and put it back on.It was a youngling's trick, but . . . She surveyed the results. Notgood, she decided. Still, it might help; at least the solid maroonlining was a little less gaudy than red and gold plaid.
She returned to the street, glad for the soft grass that had replacedpavement when null-grav craft came into common use, and resumed herwalk toward the city. As small as MacLeod's Landing was by humanstandards, it was already large by Irschchan, and still growing. Ifshe made it that far, there was at least a chance she could avoid theSanctioners in the crowds, and reach the Palace.
She had been walking for perhaps five minutes when a Sanctioner patrolcruiser sped past her, toward Thark's home. The wind of its passageruffled her fur as well as her kilt, but they seemed to pay noattention to her, for which she was grateful.
Still, it was what she had hoped. If she were obvious enough, theSanctioners should think she had nothing to hide. Between that and herkilt-flipping, unless she ran into a Sanctioner who knew her wellenough to identify her by the pattern of her mind-shield, she mightmake it.
Bare minutes later, though, her hopes fell as she heard the patrolcruiser approaching again. It stopped in front of her and threegray-kilted Sanctioners got out.
Besides the usual sporran and soul-blade everyone carried, theSanctioners wore their collars of office, gleaming gold bands snug attheir throats. And their blasters, normally worn on belt clips, wereall pointed in her direction. Pitting around the muzzles showedCorina, as if she had needed the confirmation, that the weapons had allseen use.
She made her body relax. These Sanctioners were big, and they weretreating her as cautiously as they would a dangerous criminal. Fromthe Order's point of view, though, that was now an accuratedescription.
"All right, Losinj," the oldest one said. "Hands on your head, and donot move."
Corina obeyed, moving slowly to give herself time to think. Thesethree would have tight mind-shields, and anyway, the most she had beenable to handle in practice was two--which Thark, of course knew. Shewas in no position to fight. Her only chance was to get them to relax,drop their shields voluntarily. Unless they were simply going to killher here . . .
Which they were apparently not going to do. Two stood back, perhapsthree meters from her and an equal distance from each other, theirblasters steady on target. The leader, staying carefully out of theirlines of fire, approached her. He unclipped the soul-blade, sheath andall, from her belt and attached it to his own.
"It will be returned intact to your family for their Hall of Memoriesafter your execution, as Senior Valla has ordered," he told her.
"My thanks to Senior Valla," Corina said, her voice shaky. So Tharkhad turned her case over to Valla. That wasn't good news at all. Sheknew Valla well, had in fact gotten much training from her, and theywere friends, though not close ones. But Valla didn't let friendshipinterfere with her work, and she had a well-earned reputation forthoroughness and efficiency. At least, Corina thought, Valla did notdishonor her by ordering her blade broken.
The Sanctioner moved behind her. "Put your hands down, behind yourback."
She obeyed, felt cool metallic bands close around her wrists. TheSanctioner took hold of her arm just above the elbow.
"Into the cruiser, youngling."
She got in, was seated between him and another Sanctioner, both withblasters aimed at her. The third took his place at the controls,heading them toward MacLeod's Landing and Sanctioner headquarters. Sheput her sort-of-a-plan into action; as uncertain as it was, she hadbeen unable to think of anything else.
Huddling up, she let her mind-shield relax slightly. As the cruiserpicked up speed, she felt one of the Sanctioners try a probe. Don'tfight it, she told herself, use it. Sanctioners were Talented, ofcourse, but they didn't have the training or control she had gottenfrom Thark. They shouldn't be able to detect her attempt at deception.
She shivered, letting the shield drop even further and allowing herfear, only partially falsified, to seep through. If she could convincethem she was terrified, too paralyzed with panic to be a danger, shemight have a chance.
The Sanctioner leader looked at her for a moment, then said, with somesympathy, "You seem harmless enough, hardly a dangerous criminal. Whydoes Senior Valla want you dead, youngling?"
"I do not know," Corina lied, projecting more fright. "I mean . . . Ihave done nothing . . ." She let her voice trail off.
"Urrr, there is no need to worry," the officer said, apparently tryingto reassure her. "The executioner here is good. He will give you aswift death, and it will be one with honor; she has ordered you killedwith darlas."
It didn't reassure Corina, and she let that show in her expression.She looked up at the Sanctioner leader, shivering again. "But . . . Idon't want to die! I have done nothing to die for!"
"Youngling, it is not for me to question Senior Valla's orders, but Iadmit I do no like this assignment. My own girl-child is about yourage."
"Then--" Sudden hope dawned.
"No, youngling." The Sanctioner's voice was full of pity, but remainedfirm. "My honor lies in my duty, and that duty requires me to take youin."
Corina slumped, fear and a sense of hopelessness seeming worse afterthat surge of false hope. Her shield was almost all the way down. Shedared not probe at the Sanctioners to see if they believed her; somehowthat did not seem to be the sort of thing a frightened prisoner woulddo. She could only hope her plan was working, but the closer they gotto the city and Sanctioner headquarters, the less confidence she had init.
The trip ended in deep silence. By the time they pulled up in front ofthe large stone building that housed the capital's Sanctioners, Corinawas on the ragged edge of desperation. It must have appeared more likesheer terror to the officer beside her, because he dismissed the othertwo. "Go on in. She will give me no trouble; she is too afraid."
They obeyed. As they entered the building, the leader climbed out ofthe cruiser, clipped his blaster to his belt, and extended a hand tohelp his trembling prisoner.
That was when Corina struck. He had relaxed his shield slightly,thinking her powerless, and she had no trouble stunning him withdarlas. Awkwardly, hampered by the way her hands were fastened and byher need for haste, she dug through his sporran for the handcuff keyand fumbled it into the lock. The cuffs opened after what seemedhours, but could have been only seconds. Then she retrieved hersoul-blade from his belt, half tempted to use it on him. She refrained;he had pitied her, and the killing would not be justified. Self-defensewas commendable, but she could not kill one who was unable to defendhimself. She did, however, increase the mental pressure on him enoughto insure he would remain unconscious for at least an hour. Then shesensed one of the other Sanctioners returning, wondering idly what waskeeping Garal and the prisoner.
She straightened and left at a fast walk, was around the corner and outof sight before he spotted Garal's unconscious form. She tightened hershield, feeling probes as the Sanctioner alerted the others. Althoughshe knew it would make her conspicuous, she broke into a run. She hadto reach the park that encircled the Planetary Palace before theSanctioners caught her again. That was Imperial territory; Irschchanjurisdiction ended at the park's edge. She just hoped that legalitywould stop the Sanctioner.
The park was in sight, less than a hundred meters away, but theSanctioner who had found Garal was fast closing the distance betweenthem. Corina risked a quick glance back, saw him stop, crouch, and drawhis blaster. She increased her speed somehow and started dodging. Itmight take her a few seconds longer to reach the park, but she would beharder to hit.
She heard the frying noise of the blaster, felt heat as the bolt singedfur on her right arm.
A second shot missed completely as she dove intothe park and rolled into a stand of purple-leafed bushes. A third boltwent overhead, then the Sanctioner returned the blaster to his belt andcalled to her.
"You have made it to Imperial territory, Losinj, but you are not safeyet! Even if you manage to get past Entos and into the Palace, we canhave you extradited as a common criminal, for assaulting a Sanctioner.Think about that!"
"Thank you for the information," Corina called back, shaken but not,she hoped, letting it show in her voice. Entos! Valla must haveanticipated her escape from the Sanctioners, Corina thought, if she hadsent her best killer to attempt an intercept in the park itself.
Then she realized that wasn't necessarily the case; more likely it wasonly Valla's thoroughness, her reluctance to leave anything she thoughtimportant to only one group. Still, using Entos against a studentshowed her how seriously Valla regarded this; it was rather like usinga blaster to eliminate an annoying insect.
There was no point in being particularly cautious, she knew, so shehurried directly toward the Palace. She had met Entos several times,often enough that he knew her both by sight and by mind pattern, evenwhen she was shielded.
She was almost at her objective--in sight of the main entrance, infact--when the anticipated attack came. It started with a savagemental thrust, powerful enough to penetrate her shield and drive her toher knees. It didn't last; only Thark or another member of the PrimeChapter, which Entos wasn't, could maintain that level of intensity forlong. But by the time she had recovered enough to stand, shaking herhead to clear it, Entos was behind her. She sensed a physical threat,lunged to her left just in time to feel his dagger brush her fur ratherthan bury itself in her back.
She scrambled to her feet, drawing her own blade and attempting amental counterattack. It slowed Entos' next slash, but had no othereffect. She stabbed at his upper arm, trying to cripple him, but heparried skillfully.
"You fight well, youngling, even now," he said, then tried anotherintense mental thrust. It was less powerful than the first had been,and Corina managed to block it, though she was less successful parryinghis simultaneous dagger thrust at her throat. She did avoid most, butit was enough to draw blood; she felt warmth seeping into the fur atthe base of her neck.
Corina didn't reply, saving her breath for the fight. They werecircling now, both looking for openings, when she saw a flicker ofmotion from the direction of the Palace entrance. She risked a quickglance, saw it was the Imperial Marine guards running toward them anddrawing sidearms.
Entos obviously saw them as well, because he snarled and struck for heragain. She was starting to parry when the Marines fired, and bothIrschchans fell.
* * * * *
Thark finally came to the conclusion that if he had made any othererrors in his chagrin, he couldn't remember them. And Prowler didn'tneed him, while it would probably be wise to brief his chief aidesfully on Corina's defection, even though it was a strong probabilityshe was dead by this time. He made his way to the ship's lounge,thinking about the mistakes he had made with her--mistakes that wouldhave to be avoided in the future with others who had been taught inImperial schools.
The lounge was small--Kanchatka-class vessels had originally beenintended as couriers, not yachts--but it was quite comfortable, withdeep-pile carpeting, and a large viewscreen now displaying a sunsetlandscape Valla was fond of. She and Kainor started to rise as Tharkentered, but settled back at his gesture.
He paused at the service panel to dial three glasses of koril, thefermented milk Irschchans drank as humans drank wine. Carrying them,he joined his aides, seating himself on the third pile of cushions atthe lounge's low table.
After the first silent, companionable sips, Thark began filling theother two in. It wasn't easy for any of them, though an outsider wouldhave thought them discussing abstractions. Only Thark himself had beentruly close to Corina, but Kainor and Valla had known and liked her forthe four years since her Talent was discovered; her betrayal hurt.
When Thark was finished, Valla detailed the steps she'd taken to insurethe traitor's death, for Kainor's benefit. That brought a trace ofamusement to his voice. "Three Sanctioners, Valla? And Entos? Ishould think either more than adequate to deal with her."
"Either should be," Valla agreed, "but you know I like to takeprecautions, especially when it is so little trouble. Should she bysome stroke of luck escape the Sanctioners, she will not escape Entos."
"True," Thark said. It was unfortunate, he thought, that it had seemeddesirable to impose a communications blackout, including telepathy,except in a major emergency or by messenger, but at present securitywas more important than convenience--however good it would be to beable to make definite, rather than tentative, plans. Facts must beaccepted, though; they had insufficient data, so they simply had tomake do with what they did have. "Even so, we do not yet haveconfirmation. I think we must plan for the possibility, remote as itis, that she did escape both and make it to the Palace. If theImperials are informed of even as little as she got from me, it couldhinder us."
"If you plan for that," Kainor said, "you will also have to assume aRanger will be involved within minutes, or at most hours."
"What--" "A Ranger!" Valla and Thark exclaimed as one.
"Yes. Ranger James Medart arrived yesterday aboard the battle cruiserEmperor Chang, and took a lander down to the Colvis Reserve."
"Why was I not informed?" Thark asked, forcing his voice to remainsteady. A Ranger's interference, especially this early, could bedisastrous!
"Ranger Medart's orders, Master. He is on convalescent leave,recuperating from the injuries he sustained just prior to the end ofthe war. He did not wish to be bothered by official functions."
"If he is injured," Thark said thoughtfully, "he should be no problemto eliminate."
"I said he is recuperating," Kainor corrected. "I understand he isstill weak, but otherwise he is healthy enough. It is unlikely toaffect him except to slow him in personal combat."
"And Rangers do not fight unless it cannot be avoided," Valla said."Does he have anyone with him?"
"I was not told, but most probably he does. Since this is a peacefulworld and the Reserve is a resort area, I would assume him to beaccompanied by a token bodyguard--perhaps two to four Marines, notenough to stop a determined killer."
"True," Valla agreed. "Entos again, then, with four Sanctioners. TheSanctioners have enough Talent to take out two Marines each, so even ifour estimate is low, they should have no difficulty. And whetherMedart fights or not, Entos will be able to give him a swift death."
Kainor nodded. "After all, it is not their combat abilities that makethem so valuable to the Empire, even though Menshikov is the Empire'sgreatest strategist. It is their personalities and the way theythink."
"Yes," Thark said. "That much everyone knows. But exactly what is itabout their personalities and thinking? What is so unusual about themthat there are only ten Rangers, and none of those Irschchans?"
"Nine, since Tarlac's assassination," Kainor reminded him. His earswent back in a slight frown. "Despite my investigations since theCrusade was decided on, I have not been able to discover the actualselection criteria. All I can tell you is what I have been able todeduce from studying them and their accomplishments, and that certainlycannot be taken as conclusive."
"Go ahead," Thark told him. "I know you dislike making incompleteevaluations, but there is no more time to complete that project. Anincomplete evaluation is better than none at all, you must agree."
"I do--but keep in mind that it is incomplete." Kainor shifted on hiscushions, then continued.
"First, their selection is based on a combination of factors, not asingle isolated characteristic. Genius-level intelligence is of coursepart of it, along with a generalist's wide range of interests andabilities, and greater adaptability than normally appears even inspacers. They are also able to analyze situations, develop a solutionthat se
ems improbable or impossible, and make it work--usually if notalways to the Empire's benefit."
"I have had little opportunity to study them," Valla said. "Could yoube more specific?"
"Easily," Kainor replied. "And Medart is a classic example, so I willuse him. Among his other accomplishments, he was responsible for boththe successful human-Irschchan settlement of Ondrian and the end of theSandeman Incursion in Sector Five, which resulted in SubsectorSandeman's joining the Empire."
"Which in turn led to a high percentage of their warriors in theImperial military or serving as contract police forces on variousworlds," Thark said. "Extremely loyal military or police--but they areElnar's problem. Continue."
"Yes, Master. Valla, do you remember anything about either incident?"
"Almost nothing," Valla admitted. "Until recently, I had very littleinterest in Imperial news."
"And I would appreciate hearing about both with the information youhave that Imperial newscasts probably left out because humans wouldtake it as a given," Thark said.
Kainor sighed, something a number of Irschchans had picked up sincemeeting humans. "Very well. The Ondrian situation, then. During thesecond year of the joint colony's existence, an Irschchan youngling wasexploring in the mountains alone, contrary to all colony rules. Hevanished, and search parties found no trace of him. He was presumeddead after a standard week, due to the bitterly cold weather.
"It surprised everyone, to put it mildly, when he showed up inexcellent health a month after the search was abandoned. That was notall. He had one of the mountain cloudcats with him, and thanks to hisTalent--so minimal the Order had not accepted him, but there--he hadmanaged to establish communications with her. Very rudimentary ones,to be sure, but quite adequate to establish their intelligence.
"That was a severe blow to the colony. With the cloudcats proven to beintelligent, Imperial law required that the colony be abandoned.However, it is the only place that so-called 'miracle weed' can begrown successfully. It could not be obtained by trading, because thecloudcats have no hands and no interest in farming. Since miracle-weedis the only source of several valuable pharmaceuticals includingrapid-heal, the Emperor sent Medart in to see if anything could besalvaged.
"He somehow got the idea that the cloudcats originated in a warmerclimate than Ondrian's. Nobody believed it, of course; geologicalstudies done when it was first discovered showed Ondrian's climate hadnever varied enough to produce such an evolutionary difference. Andwith their lack of hands, they could not possibly have built spaceshipsto bring them from another planet.
"It turned out, of course, that Medart was absolutely correct. Thecloudcats--or perhaps I should say our young explorer's friendStarflower--had learned to understand English, and could indicate a yesor no answer to questions. Medart talked to Starflower for severaldays, and found out that they were in fact not only from a differentplanet, but from a different system entirely.
"They had been transported to Ondrian more than ten thousand years agoby beings they called simply the Others, who had discovered thecloudcats' sun was about to go nova. The cats elected to stay in thesame stellar neighborhood, but according to them the Others werepreparing to embark on a racial expedition of their own, one ofconsiderable magnitude. From what Starflower told Medart, it seemsthey left this galaxy entirely.
"Medart went back into the mountains with Starflower, remaining therefor two weeks. When he returned, he had somehow gotten the cloudcatsto agree to let the colonists have free run of the equatorial zone,though they must stay out of the mountains unless they are invited. Inreturn, he gave the cats the right to travel on Imperial Navy ships atany time. So the Empire got its pharmaceuticals, and the cloudcatsseem more than pleased with the opportunity to indulge their curiosity.A most economical solution, though I regret he did not see fit torelease the details of his negotiations."
Kainor rose and went to the service panel, returning with more korilfor each of them. He handed out the glasses, sat back down, and took adeep swallow before continuing. "It is possible someone else couldhave accomplished the same thing, as it is possible someone else couldhave accomplished most things Rangers have. They are mortals, afterall. With one of them, however, if a problem is soluble, it will besolved."
"And solved, as you say, to the Empire's benefit," Thark said. "Butyou give Medart credit for ending the Sandeman Incursion; I understoodit took five Rangers."
Kainor's ears twitched in amusement. "Five were there, yes--but theother four were part of Medart's solution, to give the Sandemans anhonorable reason to stop fighting rather than be annihilated. Much ofthis episode is either public record or not difficult to discover,though parts are still obscure.
"Medart was not sent in until the Duke of Sector Five admitted herinability to stop the Sandemans and requested Imperial assistance.Medart took a fleet to the one world the Sandemans had made aprotectorate rather than conquering, stopping long enough en route tocapture several for study." Kainor paused briefly. "You do know aboutthe genetic engineering that was done to create the Sandemans,particularly their warriors?"
Both his listeners nodded.
"Good--but at the time, no one except the Sandemans themselves knew,and they had no intention of divulging that information, especially theweakness the engineers had intended as a control mechanism. Theyrefused to cooperate, preferring to die of that weakness rather thanreveal to the enemy the ways they needed to use to live with it.
"One did in fact die, and others were succumbing when Medart was ableto deduce--a point I cannot make too strongly--that they wereengineered to fight, both physically and psychologically, and that lessthan a week without some form of combat or lovemaking was enough tomake them ill, then kill them. He took steps to prevent furtherdeterioration in those who could still be helped, then granted a swiftdeath to two who could not be.
"When he arrived at the protectorate--an obscure world called Mjolnir--he mindprobed a warrior who had sworn fealty to the Baron there, thendefeated in single combat the Warleader who wanted to take the world,obliging him to protect it instead. That probe verified Medart'sdeductions and gave him enough more information on the Sandeman culturethat he persuaded the Baron to declare Mjolnir a neutral zone, invitedthe Sandeman leaders to a conference--and called in the other fourRangers, also with battle fleets, to provide a show of force.
"He made no threats, simply had the leaders given tours of the fleets,and let them realize the alternatives: they could continue fighting, inwhich case the Empire would have no choice but to destroy them, or theycould accept Imperial citizenship, in which case they would have to payfor the damage they had caused, but there would be no other penaltysince they were doing what Terran engineers had created them to do.Instead, they would be offered a chance for combat for the Empire,using the ships and weapons they would otherwise have to fight. Beingas intelligent as they are combat-loving, the Sandemans chose thesecond alternative.
"Again, you see, an economical solution of considerable benefit to theEmpire. The brief use of four other Rangers and a total of five battlefleets saved months if not years of fighting, along with millions oflives."
"And gained them the willing service of the most dangerous fighters inthe known universe," Thark added. "All right, those examplesdemonstrate the intelligence, adaptability, and problem-solving--butsurely such qualities are not as rare as the low number of Rangersindicates!"
"In themselves, no," Kainor admitted. "But those are only the mostobvious of the qualifications. Another is that they must have no closepersonal ties, including family; that eliminates many possiblecandidates. All have applied for and been accepted by the main ImperialMilitary Academy at the Palace Complex, though none has remained theremuch beyond Test Week. And all, needless to say, are intensely loyal."His ears twitched, this time in irritation. "I am positive there areother qualifications; as I said, I have been unable to discover theactual criteria, which are known perhaps only to the Sovereign andRangers themse
lves."
Thark held back a growl. "I understand that--still, can you deducefrom what data you do have why there are no Irschchan Rangers?"
Kainor shook his head slowly. "Not with any degree of confidence," hesaid. "The only possibility I find marginally sound is that Irschchanswho have the requisite abilities also have Talent, meaning they jointhe Order rather than entering Imperial service."
"I suppose that is possible," Thark said thoughtfully. "If you arecorrect, the lack of Irschchan Rangers will soon be rectified. Youwill have to find out all the requirements as soon as possible,however. Important as Talent is to one in such a position, they willneed the other, lesser, talents as well."