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Another one of the civil administration crowd almost exactly repeated Jules Keaveney's words at Skilk: "What the hell was Intelligence doing; sleeping?" "General von Schlichten," Colonel Grinell took oblique cognizance of the question. "You've just made, by implication, a most grave charge against my department. If you're not mistaken in what you've just said, I deserve to be court-martialled."
Some of the others, emboldened by his example, were jabbering agreement. "Listen, all of you!" von Schlichten shouted. "Here is no question of Krink ruling over Skilk. Does it matter who holds the Spear of Skilk, when he does so in my name? And King Jonkvank will be no foreigner.
The big circular screen was lit, showing the whole Company Reservation, with the surrounding countryside foreshortened by perspective to the distant lights of Skilk. The map had been taken up from the floor, and a big terrain-board had been brought in from the Chief Engineer's office and set up in its place.
"Send them to Konkrook," he decided. "Them M'zangwe's in command, there; he'll need help to hold the Company farms. Maybe he can find additional transport for you. I'll call him." "I'll send off what force I can, at once," Kankad promised. "How does it go with you at Skilk?" "We're holding, so far," he replied.
Von Schlichten took the spear and gave it to Jonkvank. "This is not good!" one of the Skilkan nobles protested. "That you should rule over us, yes. You killed Firkked in single combat, and you are the soldier of the Company, which is mighty, as all here have seen. But that this foreigner be given the Spear of Skilk, that is not at all good!"
Jonkvank stopped, his face contorted with saurian rage. "What is this?" he demanded. "You told me that I could be King of Skilk; is this how a Terran keeps his word?" "A Terran's word is always good, Jonkvank," von Schlichten replied, omitting the titles, as was proper in one sovereign addressing another. "My word was that you should reign in Skilk, and my word stands.
Von Schlichten allowed himself to be smitten by an idea. "By Allah, so we had!" he exclaimed. "Look, you're going to Skilk, in the next week, aren't you? Well, do you think you could get all your end-jobs cleared up here and be ready to leave by 0800 Tuesday? That's four days from today." "I'm sure I could. Why?" "Well, I'm going to Skilk, myself, with the armed troopship Aldebaran.
As the guests advanced across the roof, the herald banged again on his shield. "His Majesty, Carlos von Schlichten," which came out more or less as Karlok vonk Zlikdenk "King, by right of combat, of Skilk!" Von Schlichten advanced to meet his fellow-monarch, his own Spear of State, with Firkked's head still grinning from it, two paces behind him.
He picked up the phone and punched the wavelength of the military airport. "Von Schlichten; my compliments to Colonel Jarman. Tell him there's a geek mob, or possibly Firkked's regulars, on the main highway from Skilk, two miles east of the Reservation. Get some combat contragravity over here, at once. We'll light them up for you.
Now, since I killed Firkked in lawful manner, his Spear is mine, and what is mine I can give as I please. I now give you the Spear of Skilk, to carry in my name, as I promised." The Kragan who was carrying the ceremonial weapon tossed the head of Firkked from the point; another Kragan kicked it aside and advanced to wipe the spear-blade with a rag.
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