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Think he's come to lobby for it?" Count Duklass chuckled. "He's not doing anything about it, himself. Have you met him yet, sir?" "Not yet. He's to be presented this evening." "Well, when you see him I think the masculine pronoun is permissible you'll see what I mean, sir. It's this Lord Koreff, the Marshal.
Valkanhayn was aghast, probably at the idea of burning an unlooted city. Spasso was sputtering something about, "... Teach the dirty Neobarbs a lesson " Koreff told him he was switched on. He picked up a hand-phone. "Space Vikings Nemesis and Space Scourge, calling the city of Eglonsby. Space Vikings...." He repeated it for over a minute; there was no reply. "Vann," he called Guns-and-Missiles.
They came straight down on Eglonsby, on Amaterasu, the Nemesis and the Space Scourge side by side. The radar had picked them up at point-five light-seconds; by this time the whole planet knew they were coming, and nobody was wondering why. Paul Koreff was monitoring at least twenty radio stations, assigning somebody to each one as it was identified.
Of course, they're all poor, and they wear such funny ragged clothes, and travel about in rackety old aircars, it's a wonder they don't fall apart in the air. But they're so wonderfully happy and carefree. I often wish I were one of them, instead of king." "Nonworking class, Your Imperial Majesty," Lord Koreff explained.
Immediately after the presentation of Lord Koreff, they all started the two hundred yards march to the luncheon pavilion, the King of Durendal clinging to his left arm and First Citizen Yaggo stumping dourly on his right, with Prince Ganzay beyond him and Lord Koreff on Ranulf's left. "Do you plan to stay long on Odin?" he asked the king. "Oh. I'd love to stay for simply months!
It was First Citizen Yaggo's turn to take precedence the seat on the right of the throne chair. Lord Koreff sat on Ranulf's left, and, to balance him, Prince Ganzay sat beyond Yaggo and dutifully began inquiring of the People's Manager-in-Chief about the structure of his government, launching him on a monologue that promised to last at least half the luncheon.
The Hiller story of how Mendelssohn, Chopin, Liszt and Heller teased this grouty old gentleman on the Boulevard des Italiens is capital reading, if not absolutely true. Yet Chopin admired Kalkbrenner's finished technique despite his platitudinous manner. Heine said or rather quoted Koreff that Kalkbrenner looked like a bonbon that had been in the mud.
It was Viktor Ganzay again. He looked as though his permanent toothache had deserted him for the moment. "Sorry to bother Your Majesty, but it's all fixed up," he reported. "First Citizen Yaggo agreed to alternate in precedence with King Ranulf, and Lord Koreff has withdrawn all his objections. As far as I can see, at present, there should be no trouble." "Fine.
He came here on business, and had to bring the king along, for fear somebody else would grab him while he was gone. The whole object of Durendalian politics, as I understand, is to get possession of the person of the king. Koreff was on my screen for half an hour; I just got rid of him.
They rushed toward each other, planting a garden of evanescent fire-flowers between them; they pounded one another with guns, and then they sped apart. At the same time, Paul Koreff was picking up an impulse-code signal from the third, crippled, ship; a screen combination. Trask punched it out as he received it. A man in space armor was looking out of the screen.
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