sky.
As for Carthogia, while the threat from the Kroaxians had been temporarily
extinguished, the longer-term future was far less certain. The issuing to
Eskenderom of weapons sufficiently potent to have deterred the Wearer from
honoring his pledge to Groork seemed to confirm that the Lumian king was firmly
committed to promoting rivalry among the Robian nations in order to obtain their
dependency and ultimately their complete subjugation. It was unlikely,
therefore, that Kleippur would see his realm free to determine its own destiny;
the Lumian conditions for supplying the weapons that Carthogia needed would
doubtless entail sacrifice of its independence just as surely as would conquest
by a reconstituted Kroaxian army at some later date.
On the other hand, it seemed that despite their arts and their skills, the
Lumians were as divided among themselves as the royal houses and the clergy of
Kroaxia and Serethgin. There were other, more powerful kings in Lumia than the
king who ruled the Great Ship, the Wearer had said, and the Lumian system of
government constrained the actions of its kings, making them very much subject
to the approval of their citizens. The Wearer’s many friends who held positions
of high office in the trades guilds of Lumian town criers and heralds would
spread the news far and wide of the Wearer’s willingness to anger the Great
Ship’s king and face imprisonment in protest against Robia’s treatment. That the
Wearer and his followers had chosen to defy the Great Ship’s king and were
willing to face imprisonment upon their return was evidence that integrity and
high moral principle were not unknown among Lumians, and that was grounds enough
for hope. Kleippur, therefore, characteristically coming to the conclusion that
all was not necessarily lost, had refused to allow his capacity for action to be
weakened by an unduly pessimistic outlook and braced himself to face the future
with fortitude and the resolve to make the best he could of such opportunities
for bettering his situation as might present themselves. And a better example
than that to model his own attitude on, he wouldn’t find anywhere, Thirg had
decided.
Three figures in Terran military suits walked forward from the gate as the
procession drew up. “Well, I suppose this is it, Otto,” Zambendorf said. “Thank
Arthur and his people again for their hospitality and tell them it might be a
while, but I’m sure we’ll be back to see them again sometime.” Abaquaan relayed
the message via the transmogrifier, and Arthur responded in like vein. Clarissa,
Vernon, West, and Fellburg came forward from the second carriage, and after a
final round of handshakes and salutations, Zambendorf turned to face the three
soldiers waiting patiently behind him. “Thank you for the courtesy, er . . .
Captain, isn’t it? Well, everyone’s accounted for. We’re all yours.”
“Captain Mason, Special Forces,” a voice replied. The figure wearing a captain’s
insignia peered at the nametag on Zambendorf’s suit and at the tags of the two
others nearest him. “You are Zambendorf and his people, I take it.”
“Of course we are. Who else did you expect to come wandering in from the surface
of Titan?”
“It’s good to see you back. A lot of people were getting worried.” Behind Mason,
several soldiers left the guardhouse to open the gate, and another group of
figures was approaching from the base administration building.
“Well, aren’t you supposed to arrest us or something?” Zambendorf said.
“No,” Mason answered. “I guess you’re maybe gonna have to answer a few questions
about stealing that lander, but you probably had your reasons … I don’t know.
Anyhow, we don’t have any orders that say anything about arresting anybody. The
Base Commander should be on his way here now. He’ll know a lot more than I do.”
Zambendorf blinked with surprise at the mildness of the reception. “This is
amazing,” he murmured, more to the others with him than to Mason. “I’d have
thought Leaherney would have been more upset about what happened to Henry’s
army. In a way I feel quite disappointed.”
“Maybe we didn’t achieve as much as we thought,” Abaquaan said uneasily.
“Even Caspar Lang wasn’t bothered? I figured he’d be apopleptic,” Clarissa said.