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Updated: June 7, 2025
"If you can't lick them, lick their boots," the Count of Ravary put in. "My son is a trifle bitter," Princess Bentrik said. "I must confess to a trace of bitterness, too." "Well, that's the Representatives," Trask said. "What about the rest of the government?" "With the splinter-party and Disloyalist support, they got a majority of seats in the Delegates.
The trouble was, they couldn't. They could turn off the screen, but Zaspar Makann would go on screaming, and millions all over the planet would still hear him. Bentrik twiddled the selector. The voice stuttered briefly, and then came echoing out of the speaker, but this time the pickup was somewhere several hundred feet above a great open park.
"Oh, no," Bentrik replied. "I was doing something I wouldn't have thought myself capable of, a few years ago. Organizing a mutineering conspiracy in the Royal Mardukan Navy. After Admiral Shefter was forcibly retired and shut up in an insane asylum, I disappeared and turned into a civilian contragravity-lifter operator at the Malverton Navy Yard.
He turned to Bentrik. "I'm afraid this is your last space adventure, Simon. You'll have to be a spaceport spaceman from now on." "I shan't be sorry," Princess Bentrik said. "And if anybody owes Prince Trask gratitude, I do." She pressed his hands warmly. "Prince Trask, my son wants to meet you, very badly. He's ten years old, and he thinks Space Vikings are romantic heroes."
Your Highness, I mean; what is this Prince-Protector thing?" "Somebody had to do it. Is the King still alive?" The grin slid off the commodore's face, starting with his eyes. "We don't know. At first, Makann had him speaking by screen you know what it was like urging everybody to obey and co-operate with 'our trusted Chancellor. Makann always appeared on the screen with him." Bentrik nodded.
And a couple of professors who inclined toward Makann had introduced a resolution calling for the court-martial of Prince Bentrik and an investigation of the loyalty of Admiral Shefter.
"If you mean schools and hospitals and keeping the city clean, the people do that for themselves. The government, if you want to think of it as that, just sees to it that nobody's shooting at them while they're doing it." "That isn't what Professor Pullwell means, Lucas. He means old-age pensions," Prince Bentrik said. "Like this thing Zaspar Makann's whooping for."
The Space Vikings were surprised and disappointed at the somewhat lower intellectual level of the Mardukans. They couldn't understand that; Marduk was supposed to be a civilized planet, wasn't it? The Mardukans were just as surprised, and inclined to be resentful, that the Space Vikings all acted and talked like officers. Hearing of it, Prince Bentrik was also puzzled.
"I don't know where they'd get arms." "No, Your Highness," Prince Bentrik said. "Neither do I. That's what I'm worried about." He succeeded, the next morning, in convincing everybody that he wanted to be alone for a while, and was sitting in a garden, watching the rainbows in the midst of a big waterfall across the valley. Elaine would have liked that, but she wasn't with him, now.
"Then we'll just have to make it work the best way we can, and when it breaks down, hope the next try will work a little better, for a little longer," Bentrik said. Malverton grew in the telescopic screens as they came down.
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