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Updated: June 5, 2025
Watson was pointing out features on the map again. "It will take three days for their full army to get in here." He added with emphasis, "In retreat, it would take them the same time to get out." Plekhanov scowled heavily. "We can't risk it. If we were defeated, we have no reserve army. We'd have lost everything." He looked at Joe Chessman and Watson significantly.
Natt Roberts was worried. "We had no such instructions from the Co-ordinator. Dividing our forces like that." Mayer cut him short. "My dear Roberts, we were given carte blanche. It is up to us to decide procedure. Actually, this system realizes twice the information such expeditions as ours might ordinarily offer." "Texcoco for me," Plekhanov grumbled, accepting the plan in its whole.
"Pyramids," Plekhanov rumbled. "I've always been of the opinion that such projects as pyramids, whether they be in Yucatan or Egypt, are make-work affairs. A priesthood, or other ruling clique, keeping its people busy and hence out of mischief." Chessman adjusted a speed lever and settled back. "I can see their point." "But I don't agree with it," Plekhanov said ponderously.
Hawkins called as soon as he was within shouting distance. "They're moving in. Their advance cavalry units are already in the pass." When he was with them, Plekhanov rubbed his hand nervously over heavy lips. He rumbled, "The cavalry, eh? Listen, Hawkins, get back there and dust them. Use the gas." The pilot said slowly, "I have four bullet holes in my wings." "Bullet holes!" Joe Chessman snapped.
His voice lost volume. "The position in which you find yourselves should be humbling." "It is," Amschel Mayer agreed. Plekhanov nodded his head. The Co-ordinator nodded, too. "However, the situation is as near ideal as we could hope. Rigel's planets are all but unbelievably Earthlike. Almost all our flora and fauna have been adaptable. Certainly our race has been.
Plekhanov said ungraciously, "Our prime effort is now the uniting of the total population into one strong whole, a super-state capable of accomplishing the goals set us by the Co-ordinator." Mayer sneered, "Undoubtedly, this goal of yours, this super-state, is being established by force." "Not always," Joe Chessman said. "Quite a few of the tribes join up on their own. Why not?
He had no intention of precipitating a situation in which he would discover such powers to his sorrow. He said carefully, "You have indicated that you intend major changes in the lives of the People." "Of all Texcocans," Plekhanov said, "you Tulans are merely the beginning." Mynor, the aged priest, leaned forward. "But why? We do not want these changes whatever they may be.
"You were going to kill these?" The Khan said reasonably, "They are not of the People. They are prisoners taken in battle." Mynor said, "Their lives please the gods." "There are no gods, as you probably know," Plekhanov said flatly. "You will no longer sacrifice prisoners." A hush fell on the Texcocans. Joe Chessman let his hand drop to his weapon.
"He's right," Joe Chessman said sourly. Reif nodded his head. "We must finish them now, if we can. The task will be twice as great next year." Plekhanov grumbled in irritation. "Half a million of them and something like forty thousand of our Tulans." Reif corrected him. "Some thirty thousand Tulans, all infantrymen." He added, "And eight thousand allied cavalry only some of whom can be trusted."
Joe Chessman took his heavy gun from its holster and triggered it twice. The roar of the explosions reverberated thunderously in the confined space, deafening all, and terrifying the Tulans. Bright red colored the robes the Khan wore, colored them without beauty. Bright red splattered the floor. Leonid Plekhanov stared at his second in command, wet his thick lips. "Joe," he sputtered.
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