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Updated: June 4, 2025
More missiles erupted from the battleship, aimed to intercept. They also failed. The battleship began to fling out every missile it possessed, in a frantic effort to knock out the Isis's erratic missiles, which neither instruments nor eyes were able to follow accurately enough to establish a pattern of destination. Half a dozen ground-cars roared through the streets of the capital city of Garen.
Then it asked apologetically, "You got the battleship, sir?" The voice from space sounded as if the man who spoke were grinning. "We'll celebrate that, sir! Good to have served with you, sir." Bors swung the Isis and drove on solar-system drive to get well away from Garen. He watched the blip which was the captured ship as it seemed to hesitate a very, very long time.
Bors went over the ship for the last time. The ship's log went aboard the Sylva, as did Logan's calculated tables for low-power overdrive. Bors made quite sure that nothing else could be recovered from the Isis. He looked strained and irritable when he finally went into one of the lifeboat blisters on the Isis left vacant by the sacrifice of two space-boats in the Garen cutting-out expedition.
There was only one world within reach on which human beings could live. That world was Garen. The Isis could sit down on Garen, disembark her crew, and be blown up before Mekinese authorities could interfere. Perhaps possibly her crew could try to function on Garen as marooned pirates, as outlaws, as rebels against the puppet planetary government. But they knew too much.
He'd saved two days and secured the promise of many more such valuable feats. As soon as the Isis broke to normal space near Garen, there was a call on the communicator. A familiar voice; "Calling Isis! Calling Isis! Sylva calling Isis!" Bors said softly, "Damnation! For the second time, what are you doing in this place?" Gwenlyn's voice laughed. "Traveling for pleasure, Captain Bors!
Very few non-Mekinese ships would ever land there, and therefore wouldn't be watched for. It was unlikely that a long-range radar habitually swept space off Garen. The battleship should be more alert, but again there was no danger of space-borne rebellion, and the affair of Kandar might not have been bruited so far away. But the spaceport would respond to calls, certainly.
We have a very tiny force there three ships. Of course our ships won't attack the Mekinese, but they might as well. Knowing that we destroyed their first fleet and that we still live, Mekin will assuredly retaliate." "And not only on Kandar," said Bors. "On Tralee and Garen and Cassis and Meriden " Morgan interrupted. "Majesty! All this is more reason to listen to me!
This drinking-song, hummed just above his breath, touched some antique memory in Monsieur Garen the avocat, and he nodded kindly at the dwarf, though he refused the wine. "Ah, M'sieu' le Cure," said Parpon, ducking his head to avoid the hand that Medallion would have laid on it, "we're going to be somebody now in Pontiac, bless the Lord! We're simple folk, but we're not neglected.
"Who do I tell this to?" "I name no names on microwaves," he told her. "Get going, will you?" "To hear," said Gwenlyn cheerfully, "is to obey." Her communicator clicked off. The Sylva showed on a radar-screen, but had not been near enough to be sighted direct. The blip shot out from the planet. Bors growled to himself. The Isis floated a hundred thousand miles off Garen. There was no challenge.
"I left it switched in," said Bors, "because I thought we might use it in the fight with the battleship. But we didn't." "I should have checked that it was off!" protested his second. "It's my fault!" Bors shrugged. Deciding whose fault it was wouldn't repair the damage. There'd been a human error. Bors had approached Garen on the low-power overdrive that Logan had computed for him.
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