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   demonstration. They may well expect it'll turn to their advantage;
   outsiders would naturally think Merseian-descended Dennitzans are
   anti-Terran, right? Then too late--" She flung her hands wide, her voice
   aloft. "Too late, they see who came along!"
   Beneath the surf of agreement, Flandry murmured to her: "My idea also. I
   kept hoping somebody would have a better one."
   XVII
   ----
   Just before their car set down, Flandry protested to Kossara, "God damn
   it, why does your parliament have to meet in person? You've got holocom
   systems. Your politicians could send and receive images ... and we
   could've rigged untraceable methods to call them and give them the facts
   last night."
   "Hush, darling." She laid a hand across his fist. "You know why.
   Electronics will do for ornamental relics. The Skupshtina is alive, it
   debates and decides real things, the members need intimacies,
   subtleties, surprises."
   "But you, you have to go among murderers to reach them."
   "And I fear for you," she said quietly. "We should both stop."
   He looked long at her, and she at him, in the seat they shared. Beryl
   eyes under wide brow and bronze hair, strong fair features though her
   smile quivered the least bit, height, ranginess, fullness, the warmth of
   her clasp and the summery fragrance of herself: had she ever been more
   beautiful? The vitality that surged in her, the serenity beneath, were
   no work of a drug; it had simply let her put aside shock, exhaustion,
   grief for this while and be altogether Kossara.
   "If there is danger today," she said, "I thank God He lets me be in it
   with you."
   He prevented himself from telling her he felt no gratitude. They kissed,
   very briefly and lightly because the car was crammed with ychans.
   It landed in a parking lot at the edge of Zorkagrad,
   None farther in could have accommodated the swarm of battered vehicles
   which was arriving. Besides, a sudden appearance downtown might have
   provoked alarm and a quick reaction by the enemy. A march ought to have
   a calming effect. Flandry and Kossara donned cowled cloaks, which should
   hide their species from a cursory glance when they were surrounded by
   hemianthropoid xenos, and stepped outside.
   A west wind skirled against the sun, whose blaze seemed paled in a pale
   heaven. Clouds were brighter; they scudded in flocks, blinding white,
   their shadows sweeping chill across the world, off, on, off, on. Winged
   animals wheeled and thinly cried. Trees around the lot and along the
   street that ran from it--mostly Terran, oak, elm, beech, maple--cast
   their outer branches about, creaked, soughed Delphic utterances though
   tongue after fire-tongue ripped loose to scrittle off over the pavement.
   Rainpuddles wandered and wandered. All nature was saying farewell.
   The ychans closed in around the humans. They numbered a good four
   hundred, chosen by their steadcaptains as bold, cool-headed, skilled
   with the knives, tridents, harpoons, and firearms they bore. Ywodh of
   Nanteiwon, appointed their leader by Kyrwedhin before the
   parliamentarian returned here, put them in battle-ready order. They
   spoke little and showed scant outward excitement, at least to human eyes
   or nostrils; such was the way of the Obala. They did not know the ins
   and outs of what had happened, nor greatly care. It was enough that
   their Gospodar had been betrayed by the enemy of their forefathers, that
   his niece had come home to speak truth, and that they were her soldiers.
   The wind snapped two standards in their van, star white on blue of Yovan
   Matavuly, ax red on gold of Gwyth.
   "All set," Ywodh reported. A shout: "Forward!" He took the lead. Flandry
   and Kossara would fain have clasped hands as they walked, but even
   surrounded must clutch their cloaks tight against this tricksy air. The
   thud of their boots was lost amidst digitigrade slither and click.
   At first it was predictable they would encounter nobody. Here was a new
   district of private homes and clustered condominium units, beyond the
   scope of forcefield generators that offered the inner city some
   protection. Residents had sought safer quarters. An occasional militia
   squad, on patrol to prevent looting, observed the procession from a
   distance but did not interfere.
   Farther on, buildings were older, higher, close-packed on streets which
   had narrowed and went snakily uphill: red tile roofs, stucco walls of
   time-faded gaudiness, signs and emblems hung above doorways, tenements,
   offices, midget factories, restaurants, taverns, amusements, a
   bulbous-domed parish church, a few big stores and tiny eccentric shops
   by the score, the kind of place that ought to have pulsed with traffic
   of vehicles and foot, been lively with movement, colors, gestures broad
   or sly, words, laughter, whistling, song, sorrow, an accordion or a
   fiddle somewhere, pungencies of roast corn and nuts for sale to keep the
   passerby warm, oddments in display windows, city men, landmen,
   offworlders, vagabonds, students, soldiers, children, grannies, the
   unforgettably gorgeous woman whom you know you will never glimpse again
   ... A few walkers stepped aside, a few standers poised in doorways or
   leaned on upper-story sills, warily staring. Now and then a groundcar
   detoured. A civilian policeman in brown uniform and high-crowned hat
   joined Ywodh; they talked; he consulted his superiors via minicom,
   stayed till an aircar had made inspection from above, and departed.
   "This is downright creepy," Flandry murmured to Kossara. "Has everybody
   evacuated, or what?"
   She passed the question on. Untrained humans could not have conveyed
   information accurately in that wise; but soon she told Flandry from
   Ywodh: "Early this morning--the organizers must have worked the whole
   night--an ispravka started against Imperial personnel. That's when
   ordinary citizens take direct action. Not a riot or lynching. The people
   move under discipline, often in their regular Voyska units; remember,
   every able-bodied adult is a reservist. Such affairs seldom get out of
   control, and may have no violence at all. Offenders may simply be
   expelled from an area. Or they may be held prisoner while spokesmen of
   the people demand the authorities take steps to punish them. A few
   ispravkai have brought down governments. In this case, what's happened
   is that Terrans and others who serve the Imperium were rounded up into
   certain buildings: hostages for the Gospodar's release and the good
   behavior of their Navy ships. The Zamok denounced the action as illegal
   and bound to increase tension, demanded the crowds disperse, and sent
   police. The people stand fast around those buildings. The police haven't
   charged them; no shots have yet been fired on either side."
   "I've heard of worse customs," Flandry said.
   Puzzled, she asked, "Shouldn't the plotters be pleased?"
   Flandry shrugged. "I daresay they are. Still, don't forget the vast
   majority of your officials must be patriotic, and whether or not they
   prefer independence, consider civil war to be the final recourse. The
/>   top man among them issued that cease-and-desist order." He frowned.
   "But, um, you know, this nails down a lot of our possible helpers, both
   citizens and police. The enemy isn't expecting us. However, if too many
   parliament members refuse to board the secession railroad, he'll have a
   clear field for attempting a coup d'etat. Maybe the firebrand who
   instigated that, uh, ispravka is a Merseian himself, in human skin."
   The wind boomed between walls.
   A minor commotion occurred on the fringes of the troop. Word flew back
   and forth. "Chives!" Kossara gasped.
   The ychans let him through. He also went cloaked to muffle the fact of
   his race from any quick glance. Emerald features were eroded from spare
   to gaunt; eyes were more fallow than amber; but when Flandry whooped and
   took him by the shoulders, Chives said crisply, "Thank you, sir. Donna
   Vymezal, will you allow me the liberty of expressing my sympathy at your
   loss?"
   "Oh, you dear clown!" She hugged him. Her lashes gleamed wet. Chives
   suffered the gesture in embarrassed silence. Flandry sensed within him a
   deeper trouble.
   They continued through hollow streets. A fighter craft passed low above
   chimneys. Air whined and snarled in its wake. "What've you been doing?"
   Flandry asked. "How'd you find us?"
   "If you have no immediate statement or directive for me, sir," the
   precise voice replied, "I will report chronologically. Pursuant to
   instructions, I landed at the spaceport and submitted to inspection. My
   cover story was approved and I given license, under police registry, to
   remain here for a stated period as per my declared business. Interested
   in exotics, many townspeople conversed with me while I circulated among
   them in the next few planetary days. By pretending to less familiarity
   with Homo sapiens than is the case, I gathered impressions of their
   individual feelings as respects the present imbroglio. At a more
   convenient time, sir, if you wish, I will give you the statistical
   breakdown.
   "I must confess it was a complete surprise when a Naval patrol entered
   my lodgings and declared an intention to take me in custody. Under the
   circumstances, sir, I felt conformity would be imprudent. I endeavored
   not to damage irreparably men who wore his Majesty's uniform, and in due
   course will return the borrowed blaster you observe me wearing.
   Thereupon I took refuge with a gentleman I suspected of vehement
   anti-Terran sentiments. May I respectfully request his name and the
   names of his associates be omitted from your official cognizance?
   Besides their hospitality and helpfulness toward me, they exhibited no
   more than a misguided zeal for the welfare of this planet, and indeed I
   was the occasion of their first overt unlawful act. They sheltered me
   only after I had convinced them I was a revolutionary for my own
   society, and that my public designation as a Merseian agent was a
   calumny which the Imperialists could be expected to employ against their
   kind too. They were persuaded rather easily; I would not recommend them
   for the Intelligence Corps. I got from them clothes, disguise materials,
   equipment convertible to surveillance purposes, and went about
   collecting data for myself.
   "They do possess a rudimentary organization. Through this, via a phone
   call, my host learned that a large delegation of zmays was moving on the
   Capitol. Recalling Donna Vymezal's accounts of her background, and
   trusting she and you had not perished after all, I thought you might be
   here. To have this deduction confirmed was ... most gratifying, sir."
   Flandry chewed his lip for a while before he said,
   "Those were Imperials who came to arrest you? Not Dennitzans?"
   "No, sir, not Dennitzans. There could be no mistake." Chives spoke
   mutedly. His thin green fingers hauled the cowl closer around his face.
   "You went unmolested for days, and then in a blink--" Flandry's speech
   chopped off. They were at their goal.
   Well into Old Town, the party passed between two many-balconied
   mansions, out onto a plateau of Royal Hill. Constitution Square opened
   before them, broad, slate-flagged, benches, flowerbeds, trees--empty,
   empty. In the middle was a big fountain, granite catchbasin, Toman
   Obilich and Vladimir locked in bronze combat, water dancing white but
   its sound and spray borne off by the wind. Westward buildings stood well
   apart, giving a view down across roofs to Lake Stoyan, metal-bright
   shimmer and shiver beyond the curve of the world. Directly across the
   square was the Capitol, a sprawling, porticoed marble mass beneath a
   gilt dome whose point upheld an argent star. A pair of kilometers
   further on, a rock lifted nearly sheer, helmeted with the battlements
   and banners of the Zamok.
   Flandry's gaze flickered. He identified a large hotel, office buildings,
   cafes, fashionable stores, everything antiquated but dignified, the gray
   stones wearing well; how many Constitution Squares had he known in his
   life? But this lay deserted under wind, chill, and hasty cloud shadows.
   A militia squad stood six men on the Capitol verandah, six flanking the
   bottom of the stairs; their capes flapped, their rifles gleamed whenever
   a sunbeam smote and then went dull again. Aircraft circled far overhead.
   Otherwise none save the newcomers were in sight. Yet surely watchers
   waited behind yonder shut doors, yonder blank panes: proprietors,
   caretakers, maybe a few police--a few, since the turmoil was elsewhere
   in town and no disturbance expected here. Who besides? He walked as if
   through a labyrinth of mirages. Nothing was wholly what he sensed,
   except the blaster butt under his hand and a stray russet lock of
   Kossara's hair.
   She had no such dreads. As they trod into the plaza, he heard her
   whisper, "Here we go, my brave beloved. They'll sing of you for a
   thousand years."
   He shoved hesitation out of his mind and readied himself to fight.
   But no clash came. Despite what they told him when the move was being
   planned, he'd more or less awaited behavior like that when a gaggle of
   demonstrators wanted to invade a legislative session on any human planet
   he knew--prohibition, resistance, then either a riot or one of the sides
   yielding. If officialdom conceded in order to avoid the riot, it would
   be grudgingly, after prolonged haggling; and whatever protesters were
   admitted would enter under strict conditions, well guarded, to meet
   indignant stares.
   Dennitza, though, had institutionalized if not quite legalized
   procedures like the ispravka. Through the officer he met on the way,
   Ywodh had explained his band's intent. Word had quickly reached the
   Chief Justice. Four hundred zmays would not lightly descend on
   Zorkagrad, claiming to represent the whole Obala; they could be trusted
   to be mannerly and not take an unreasonable time to make their points;
   urged by Kyrwedhin, a majority in the third house of the Skupshtina
   endorsed their demand. No guns greeted them, aside from those of the
   corporal's guard at the entrance; and they bore their own arms inside.
  Up the stairs--past armored doors that recalled the Troubles--through an
   echoful lobby--into a central chamber where the parliament in joint
   session waited--Flandry raked his glance around, seeking menaces to his
   woman and shelters for her.
   The room was a half ellipsoid. At the far-end focus, a dais bore the
   Gospodar's lectern, a long desk, and several occupied chairs. To right
   and left, tiers held the seats of members, widely spaced. Skylights cast
   fleetingness of weather into steadiness of fluorescents, making the
   polished marble floor seem to stir. On gilt mural panels were painted
   the saints and heroes of Dennitza. The lawmakers sat according to their
   groupings, Lords in rainbow robes, Folk in tunics and trousers or in
   gowns, Zmayi in leather and metal. After the outdoors, Flandry breathed
   an air which felt curdled by fear and fury.
   Banners dipped to an old man in black who sat behind the lectern. Slowly
   the fishers advanced, while unseen telescanners watched on behalf of the
   world. In the middle of the floor, the ychans halted. Silence
   encompassed them. Flandry's pulse thuttered.
   "Zdravo," said the Chief Justice, and added a courteous Eriau "Hydhref."
   His hand forgot stateliness, plucked at his white beard. "We have ...
   let you in ... for unity's sake. My understanding is, your delegation
   wishes to speak relevantly to the present crisis--a viewpoint which
   might else go unheard. You in turn will, will understand why we must
   limit your time to fifteen minutes."
   Ywodh bowed, palms downward, tail curved. Straightening, he let his
   quarterdeck basso roll. "We thank the assembly. I'll need less than
   that; but I think you'll then want to give us more." Flandry's eyes
   picked out Kyrwedhin. Weird, that the sole Dennitzan up there whom he
   

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