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“Simple enough. A program of pla
“Oh no you won’t. No wife of mine hires out as a contract gun. It is not that simple—physically or morally. The gray men can guard themselves well. And that the ends justify the means is a bankrupt statement. You saw what happened to Dr. Mutfak when he worked for a good end but used means that ran counter to his moral beliefs. You and I are of tougher fabric, my love, but we would still be affected if we went in for mass slaughter…” She went white and I was sorry I had said it. I took her hand.
“I didn’t mean it that way. I wasn’t talking about the past.”
“I know, but it still stirred up some unwholesome memories. Let’s forget assassination. What else can be done?”
“A number of things, I am sure, if we can only ask just the right questions. There must be a way to break apart the constantly expanding Cliaand empire.”
Angelina touched the wine glass to her lips and a highly attractive concentration line appeared between her eyes.
“What about starting counter-revolutions or rebellions on all the conquered worlds?” she said. “If we kept the Cliaandians busy fighting on the presently conquered planets they couldn’t very well go seeking for new territory.”
“You’re nibbling close to the idea there, but it’s not quite right yet. We can’t expect much from the resistance movements on these different worlds if the example of Burada is at all relevant. You heard what Taze said, the fighting is dying down because of the massive reaction by the Cliaand forces. If one of them is killed in a raid they slaughter twenty Buradans in return. These people, after generations of peace, are not mentally equipped to fight a ruthless guerrilla war. I even doubt if the Cliaandians would react so viciously if they weren’t forced on by the gray men who organized and order everything. The soldiers just follow orders, and following orders has always been a Cliaand strength. We’ll never stop these people by trying to incite minor revolts behind their backs. But you are right about causing them trouble on the various worlds. The entire Cliaandian economy and culture is set up on a continuing wartime basis. It is like some demented life form that must keep expanding or die. Cliaand itself can’t possibly build or supply its fleets but must depend on the conquered worlds. These worlds are in the absolute control of the Cliaand so they take orders and turn out the goods and the invasions roll on and nothing can stop the advance.”
“I wish the Cliaand invasion was that demented life form you talk about, some sort of ugly green growing thing. We could tear it up by the roots, break off the limbs—” She broke a hard roll in half to demonstrate what she meant, then nibbled at it. When she started to speak again I held up my hand.
“Stop,” I ordered. “Say nothing. I think. I see something. It is almost there.”
Then I paced the room, putting two and two together and getting four and adding four and getting eight and performing equally skilled problems of mathematics and logic. It was clear, all clear, and the pieces fell into place and I fell into my chair and grabbed up my drink.
“I am a genius,” I said.
“I know. That’s why I married you. Physically you are very unattractive.”
“You will soon be apologizing for that remark, woman. For the moment we will drink to my Plan and to victory.”
We clinked and sipped.
“What plan?” she asked.
“I ca
“I doubt it. We’ve heard nothing on the command circuits we monitor. And I’m sure this is not the kind of news they would want the Cliaandian man-m-the-spaceship to know about.”
“Just my thinking. Add to this the exaggerated aloofness and self-centered attitude that they have, even towards each other. I am going to gamble on the fact that there has been no widespread a
“How?”
“Get the makeup and face-lifting kit. I am going to get into the military base disguised as Kraj. I have some important things to do there.”
She started to protest, but I raised my finger and she was silent. Just as I had been when she went to the Octagon. There was nothing she could say and she knew it.
Without a word she went for the disguise materials.
Chapter 20
I need Cliaandian transportation and I got it in the simplest way possible. From the enemy. Since I wasn’t outrageously happy about the makeup job we had done I decided to operate after dark when the dim lights would help the illusion. Then, wearing Kraj’s uniform and carrying my own case, I went with Hamal to the Octagon, scene of the earlier festivities. Hamal was a member of the auxiliary police, male that is, since the women made up most of the force. I would have preferred one of the girls, they seemed much more sure of themselves, but there were only male Cliaand troops on the planet at this time. The handful of Cliaand women stayed out of sight. Hamal looked a little nervous and I didn’t like the way he rolled his eyes from time to time, but be would have to do.
“You understand your part?” I asked him, pushing him into the shadowed entrance to the deep doorway.
“I do, sir, sure I do.”
Were his teeth chattering? It was hard to tell. I took out the vial Dr. Mutfak had given me for use in case of emergency.
“Take two of these, chew and swallow. They’re happy pills that should raise your morale without sending you dancing through the streets.”
“I don’t…”
“You do now. Take.”
He took and I scuttled away towards the Octagon, keeping to the shadows, and looking carefully around the corner before I made my play. There was a certain amount of traffic in and out of the building even at this hour of the night, but nothing that would help me. Finally a small ground car pulled up and dropped two officers off, then started away. In my direction. All systems go. I stepped into the street in front of it and waved my hand; it squealed to a stop with the front bumper almost touching me. The driver looked frightened and I kept him that way.
“Do you always drive like that?”
“No, sir, but…”
“Save your excuses, they don’t interest me.” I climbed into the car next to him while he was still gaping. “Drive on, I’ll tell you where I want to go.”
“Sir, this car, I mean…”
A single, cold, Krajian look wilted him like a spring flower in a blizzard and he shot the car forward. As soon as we were out of sight of the building I ordered him to stop and broke a sleep capsule under his nose. I’m sure he could use the rest. Then I drove him to the place where Hamal was waiting. He had pried open the door to the stationery store in which he was hiding, and we carried the Cliaand trooper inside. He would sleep until rooming after that capsule and I arranged reams of paper comfortably under his head and feet while Hamal changed into his uniform.
“Do you know how to drive this car?” I asked him when we emerged.
“I should. It’s one of ours. They stole it and painted their dirty flag on it.”
“Spoils of war regained. Now drive me to the spaceport. And don’t stop completely at the gate, just slow down and keep rolling. It’s all bluff so keep your chin up and try not to look as scared as you are. Be a man.”
“I am,” he moaned. “But this is a woman’s job. I don’t know how I ever got myself talked into it.”
“Shut up and drive on. And take a couple more of these pills.”
The spaceport was ahead and I was more worried about my driver than I was about anyone there, I had seen the way they stayed out of Kraj’s way. Perhaps that would help to explain my driver’s obvious fear. I sighed. Roll on the car. Everyone was supposed to know Kraj—and now I was putting that theory to the test. The guards snapped to attention when we appeared and the sergeant started to say something, but I talked first.