Authors: Poul Anderson

No World of Their Own (20 page)

Solar!
Langley whistled. Chanthavar had been pretty quick on the draw too, it seemed. But, of course, the Thryman getaway would have alerted him if nothing else did.

“Party's getting sort of crowded,” he muttered.

Valti threw down a switch. The celestial globe reflected tiny splotches of fire which must be earthshaking explosions.

“The ships fight themselves,” he remarked calmly. “Our crew has little to do but stand by the emergency manual controls in case we take a hit.”

The two craft maneuvered for position, hurling their own tonnage through the sky as lightly as a fencer dances. Nuclear missiles flashed out, to be hunted down and exploded by counter-missiles. Long-range, energy beams probed heaven with lightning. All that Langley sensed was the howl of generators, the crazy dance of sparks in the globe, and the busy clicking of the ship's robot brain.

Saris snarled hungrily. “Could I be out there myself!” he raged. “Could I get my teet' in them!”

Langley drew Marin to him. “We may be rubbed out before we can break free,” he said. “I feel awfully helpless.”

“You did wonderfully, Edwy,” she answered.

“Well â¦ I tried. I love you, Marin.”

She sighed with a great happiness. “That is enough.”

The walls trembled, and the air was filled with anger. A voice choked from the intercom: “Near miss at Seven, sir. Outer plates holed, radiation blast, no air loss yet.”

“Carry on,” said Valti.

Even a nuclear explosion had to be very close to do much damage in vacuum. But a single shell which did touch the ship before going off would make molten rain of her.

“Here comes Chanthavar,” said Valti. “I have an idea. Hell be listening in on the radio, so â¦” He flipped the keys. “Hello, Thrymka. Hello, there. The Solarians are going to be on us in a minute. I like them even less than you, so let's settle our own differences later, shall we?”

There was no reply. The Thrymans never wasted speech, and they must see through such a transparent fraud.

But two Solar cruisers were sweeping in, and they had heard. The nearest turned in a graceful arc which would have been impossible without the gravity drive, and opened fire on the Thryman ship. Valti whooped and sent his vessel surging forward. One craft could not withstand the assault of two.

The screens did not show that eye-searing detonation. They refused the load, went blank, and when they functioned again a few seconds later the Thrymans were a rapidly expanding cloud of gas.

The two Solar warcraft circled cautiously, probing at the nomad with a few shells and beams. A siren hooted. Valti laughed aloud. “The superdrive is ready. We can pull out of here now.”

“Wait,” said Langley. “Call them up. I want to speak to them.”

“But they may fall on us together while we parley andâ”

“Damn it, man, Earth has got to know tool Call them!”

But it was Chanthavar who came in first. His voice snapped crisply from the communicator: “Hello, there, Society. Stand by to be boarded.”

“Not so fast, buster.” Langley leaned over Valti's shoulder, seeking the microphone. “We can pull a switch and be ten light-years away, but I've got something to tell you.”

“Oh â¦ you.” Chanthavar's tone held something close to amusement. “You again! My respect for amateurs has gone up considerably tonight. I'd like to have you on my staff.”

“You won't. Now listen.” Langley rattled off what he knew as fast as he could.

There was a humming stillness. Then Chanthavar said slowly: “Can you prove this?”

“You can prove it to yourself. Study the same documents I did. Pull in all the Centaurian agents you can find and question themâthe Thrymans must have some humans in their pay. Put the facts and the hypothesis before the Technon, ask it for a re-evaluation. It must be capable of adding two and two!”

“You â¦ may be right, Langley. You may be right.”

“You can damn well bet I'm right. The Thrymans have no use for us. We're as monstrous to them as they are to us, and the war they had to fight convinced them we're dangerous to boot. Their aim must be nothing more or less than the extermination of the entire human race. Perhaps I'm wrongâbut can you afford to take a chance on it?”

“No,” said Chanthavar quietly. “It doesn't look that way.”

“Get hold of Brannoch. He's floating around somewhere in this vicinity. You and he and the Societyâall the planetsâare going to have to bury your little ambitions. If you don't, you're through. Together you can face anything.”

“Well need that nullifier effect.”

“No, you won't. You can't conquer a planet the size of Thrym, but you can drive its natives back and keep them there if you all combine forces. Afterward, it'll be a healthy knowledge for you that somewhere in the galaxy is a planet of free men who have a weapon you can't stop. It may even give you some ideas about freeing yourselves.â¦ Goodbye, Chanthavar. Good luck!”

He switched off the radio and stood up, feeling a sudden enormous calm. “Okay,” he said. “Let's travel.”

Valti gave him a strange look. Only later, remembering, did Langley recognize it as the look a man gives his leader. “Best to go to Cygni first and let the Societyâthe real Societyâknow.”

“Yes,” agreed Langley. “Then to Holat, to build defenses for them as we promised. You're going home, Saris.”

The great dark head rubbed against his knees.

“And then?” asked Valti. His hands were setting up the control pattern for the jump.

“And then,” said Langley with an exuberant laugh, “Marin and I are off to find us a world where
we
can feel at home!”

“Do you mind if I come along?” whispered Valti.

Marin gripped Langley's hand. They regarded each other, without eyes for anything else. And when they looked around them again, there was a new sun in the sky.

About the Author

Poul Anderson (1926â2001) grew up bilingual in a Danish American family. After discovering science fiction fandom and earning a physics degree at the University of Minnesota, he found writing science fiction more satisfactory. Admired for his “hard” science fiction, mysteries, historical novels, and “fantasy with rivets,” he also excelled in humor. He was the guest of honor at the 1959 World Science Fiction Convention and at many similar events, including the 1998 Contact Japan 3 and the 1999 Strannik Conference in Saint Petersburg, Russia. Besides winning the Hugo and Nebula Awards, he has received the Gandalf, Seiun, and Strannik, or “Wanderer,” Awards. A founder of the Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America, he became a Grand Master, and was inducted into the Science Fiction and Fantasy Hall of Fame.

In 1952 he met Karen Kruse; they married in Berkeley, California, where their daughter, Astrid, was born, and they later lived in Orinda, California. Astrid and her husband, science fiction author Greg Bear, now live with their family outside Seattle.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover design by Jason Gabbert

ISBN: 978-1-5040-2443-3

This edition published in 2015 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

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New York, NY 10014

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