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Updated: May 2, 2025
And trying to be polite to them even when they are killing my friends, and those Nyjord bombers up there with their hands on the triggers. One of those bombardiers is going to start thinking about home and about the cobalt bombs down here and he's going to press that button, deadline or no deadline." "Sit down, Faussel. Sit down and take a rest."
Probably a gift to the working classes from the smiling planetary murderers on Nyjord." She took the apple Brion gave her and bit into it. "Did you ever think of going to Earth?" Brion was startled. This was too close to his own thoughts about planetary backgrounds. There couldn't possibly be a connection though. "Never," he told her.
The mass of rock and earth of the mountain above was acting as a perfect grounding screen, absorbing his signal even at maximum output. They hadn't heard him. The Nyjord fleet didn't know that the cobalt bombs had been discovered before their launching. The attack would go ahead as planned.
I want to talk to Hys at once." It came as a shock that it was Professor-Commander Krafft who answered. "I'm sorry, Brion, but it's impossible to talk to Hys. We are monitoring his frequency and your call was relayed to me. Hys and his rebels lifted ship about half an hour ago, and are already on the way back to Nyjord. Are you ready to leave now?
When he posed the question to himself in this way he found that it stated clearly its inherent answer. He pulled his gun out, and as he did he wondered what Ulv's answer might be. "Nyjord is medvirk," Ulv said, raising his blowgun and sending a dart across the cavern. It struck one of the technicians, who gasped and fell to the floor.
"They are going to bomb Nyjord now, just as Nyjord bombed Dis. That machine will hurl the bombs in a special way to the other planet." "Will you stop them?" Ulv asked. He had his deadly blowgun in his hand and his face was an expressionless mask. Brion almost smiled at the irony of the situation. In spite of everything he had done to prevent it, Nyjord had dropped the bombs.
They demand unconditional surrender, or else. This is impossible for a lot of reasons most important, because the Nyjorders would like to keep their planet for their very own. They have tried every kind of compromise but none of them works. The Disans are out to commit racial suicide. A Nyjord fleet is now over Dis and the deadline has almost expired for the surrender of the cobalt bombs.
Since leaving command of his rebel Nyjord army he seemed much mellower. "Going to keep on working for the Cultural Relationships Foundation, Brion?" he asked. "You're the kind of man we need." Brion's eyes widened as the meaning of the last words penetrated. "Are you in the C.R.F.?" "Field agent for Nyjord," he said.
They call themselves the 'Nyjord army. When you talk to them you can do me a favor. Pass on a message. Just to prove things aren't bad enough, they've become a little worse. One of our technical crews has detected jump-space energy transmissions in the planetary crust. The Disans are apparently testing their projector, sooner than we had estimated. Our deadline has been revised by one day.
We'll give you a lift if you need it." Only by a tremendous effort at control did Brion conceal the destroying sorrow that overwhelmed him when he looked at that shattered wasteland, the graveyard of so many. "No," he said. "That won't be necessary. I'm in touch with the blockading fleet and they'll pick me up before midnight." "You from Nyjord?" the purser growled.
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