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Updated: June 27, 2025
The six Earthmen looked at the overhead, dumfounded. "I suggest you put up your weapons," Taller said quietly. "At this late stage I would hate to see further bloodshed." In moments they heard the opening and closing of locks and footsteps along the corridor. The door opened and in stepped, Joe Chessman, Amschel Mayer, Mike Dean, Louis Rosetti, and an emaciated Jerry Kennedy.
The other Texcocans stared at his body in shocked horror. All expect Reif. Reif bent down over his father's body for a moment, and then looked up, his lips white, at Plekhanov. "He is dead." Leonid Plekhanov collected himself. "Yes." Reif's cold face was expressionless. He looked at Joe Chessman who stood stolidly to one side, gun still in hand.
"Sounds like a rather bloody program especially if Barry Watson, here, winds up with eight women," Martin Gunther said. Watson started to say something but Chessman held up a restraining hand. "The Texcocan State is too strong to be resisted, Gunther. It is mostly a matter of getting around to the more remote peoples. As soon as we bring in a new tribe, we convert it into a commune." "Commune!"
Joe Chessman was at the controls of the space lighter. At his side sat Leonid Plekhanov and behind them the other six members of their team. They had circled Texcoco twice at great altitude, four times at a lesser one. Now they were low enough to spot man-made works. "Nomadic," Plekhanov muttered. "Nomadic and village cultures." "A few dozen urbanized cultures," Chessman said.
In a corner stood a large globe of that world never visited by Timothy, deeply convinced of the unreality of everything but England, and permanently upset by the sea, on which he had been very sick one Sunday afternoon in 1836, out of a pleasure boat off the pier at Brighton, with Juley and Hester, Swithin and Hatty Chessman; all due to Swithin, who was always taking things into his head, and who, thank goodness, had been sick too.
It is in the utilization of position by mobile force that war is determined, just as the effect of a chessman depends upon both its individual value and its relative position.
The warriors had cleared a way through the multitude to the pyramid and now the Earthlings could see a score of chained men and women, nude save for loin cloths and obviously captives. Plekhanov made his way toward them, Joe Chessman at his right and a pace to the rear. The prisoners stood straight and, considering their position, with calm. Plekhanov glared at Taller.
If we left the boat now, we'd make fools of ourselves trying to coax them near enough to talk." Watson said to Joe Chessman "What do you mean, no Emperor Montezuma?" Chessman said absently, as he watched, "When the Spanish got to Mexico they didn't understand what they saw, being musclemen rather than scholars. And before competent witnesses came on the scene, Aztec society was destroyed.
"I hadn't ... I didn't expect you to be so ... hasty." Joe Chessman growled, "We've got to let them know where we stand, right now, or they'll never hold still for us. Cover the doors, Watson, Roberts." He motioned to the others with his head. "Cogswell, Hawkins, Stevens, get to those windows and watch." Taller was a crumbled heap on the floor.
On the way back to Texcoco, Barry Watson said to his chief, "What do you think of putting some security men on Genoa, just to keep tabs?" "Why?" Watson looked at his fingers, nibbled at a hangnail. "It just seems to me it wouldn't hurt any." Chessman snorted. Dick Hawkins said, "I think Barry's right. They can bear watching. Besides in another decade or so they'll realize we're going to beat them.
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