telling you as a simple matter of fact that any or all of you, at the first move toward any
such disloyalty, will die. In that connection, I know that all of you have been exerting
every resource to discover in what manner your predecessors came so conveniently to
die, and that none of you have succeeded.”
One by one they admitted that they had not. “Nor will you, ever. Be advised that I
know vastly more than Alcon did, and that I am far mere powerful. Alcon, while in no
sense a weakling, did not know how to command obedience. I do. Alcon’s sources of
information were meager and untrustworthy; mine are comprehensive and reliable.
Alcon very often did not know that anything was being plotted against him until the thing
was well along; I shall always know of the first seditious move. Alcon blustered,
threatened, and warned; he tortured; he gave some offenders a second chance before
he killed. I shall do none of these things. I do not threaten, I do not warn, I do not
torture. Above all, I give no snake a second chance to strike at me. I execute traitors
without bluster or fanfare. For your own good, gentlemen, I advise you in all seriousness
to believe that I mean precisely every word I say.”
They slunk out, but Boskonian habit was too strong. Thus, within three days,
three of Kinnison’s newly appointed head men died. He called another cabinet meeting.
“The three new members have listened to the recording of our first meeting,
hence there is no need to repeat what I said at that time,” the Tyrant announced, in a
voice so silkily venomous that his listeners cringed. “I will add to it merely that I will have
full cooperation, and only cooperation, if I have to kill all of you and all of your
successors to get it. You may go.”
CHAPTER 20
Gannel vs. Fossten
This killing made Kinnison ill; physically and mentally sick. It was ruthless,
cowardly murder. It was worse than stabbing a man in the back; the poor devils didn’t
have even the faintest shadow of a chance. Nevertheless he did it.
When he had first invaded the stronghold of the Wheelmen of Aldebaran I, he
had acted almost without thought. If there was a chance of success, Lensmen went in.
When he had scouted Jarnevon he had thought but little more. True—and
fortunately—he took Worsel along; but he did not stop to consider whether or not there
were minds in the Patrol better fitted to cope with the problem than was his own. It was
his problem, he figured, and it was up to him to solve it.
Now, however, he knew bitterly that he could no longer act in that comparatively
thoughtless fashion. At whatever loss of self-esteem, of personal stature, or of standing,
he had to revise the Tellurian Lensmen’s Code. It griped him to admit it, but Nadreck
was right. It was not enough to give his life in an attempt to conquer a half-way station;
he must remain alive in order to follow through to completion the job which was so
uniquely his. He must think, assaying and evaluating every factor of his entire task.
Then, without considering his own personal feelings, he must employ whatever forces
and methods were best fitted to do the work at the irreducible minimum of cost and of
risk.
Thus Kinnison sat unharmed upon the throne of the Tyrant of Thrale, and thus
the prime minister returned to the palace to find the fact accomplished. That worthy
studied with care every aspect of the situation before he sought an audience with the
new potentate.
“Allow me to congratulate you, Tyrant Gannel,” he said, smoothly. “I cannot say
that I am surprised, since I have been watching you and your activities for some little
time— with distinct approval, I may add. You have fulfilled—more than fulfilled,
perhaps—my expectations. Your regime is functioning superbly; you have established
in this very short time a smoothness of operation and an esprit de corps which are
decidedly unusual. There are, however, certain matters about which it is possible that
you are not completely informed.”
“It is possible,” Kinnison agreed, with the merest trace of irony. “Such as?”
“In good time. You know, do you not, who is the real authority here upon Thrale?”
“I know who was,” the Tellurian corrected, with the faintest perceptible accent
upon the final verb. “In part only, however, for if you had concerned yourself wholly, the
late Alcon would not have made so many nor so serious mistakes.”
“I thank you. You know, of course, the reason for that. I want the Tyrant of Thrale
to be the strongest man of Thrale, and I may say without flattery that I believe he now is.
And I would suggest that you add ‘sire’ when you speak to me.”
“I thank you in turn. I will so address you when you call me ‘Your
Supremacy’—not sooner.”
“We will let it pass for the moment. To come to your question, you apparently do
not know that the Tyrant of Thrale, whoever he may be, opens his mind to me.”
“I have suspected that such a condition has existed in the past. However, please
be informed that I trust fully only those who fully trust me; and that thus far in my short
life such persons have been few. You will observe that I am still respecting your privacy
in that I am allowing your control of my sense of sight to continue. It is not because I
trust you, but because your true appearance is to me a matter of complete indifference.
For, frankly, I do not trust you at all. I will open my mind to you just exactly as wide as
you will 1 open yours to me—no wider.”
“Ah . . . the bravery of ignorance. It is as I thought. You do not realize, Gannel,
that I can slay you at any moment I choose, or that a very few more words of defiance
from you will be enough.” Fossten did not raise his voice, but his tone was instinct with
menace.
“I do not, and neither do you, as I remarked to the then Tyrant Alcon in this very
room not long ago. I am sure that you will understand without elaboration the
connotations and implications inherent in that remark.” Kinnison’s voice also was low
and level, freighted in its every clipped syllable with the calm assurance of power.
“Would you be interested in knowing why I am so certain that you will not accept my
suggestion of a mutual opening of minds?”
“Very much so.”
“Because I suspect that you are, or are in league with, Star A Star of the Galactic
Patrol.” Even at that astounding charge Fossten gave no sign of surprise or of shock. “I
have not been able as yet to obtain any evidence supporting that belief, but I tell you
now that when I do so, you die. Not by power of thought, either, but in the beam of my
personal ray-gun.”
“Ah—you interest me strangely,” and the premier’s hand strayed almost
imperceptibly toward an inconspicuous button.
“Don’t touch that switch!” Kinnison snapped. He did not quite see why Fossten
was letting him see the maneuver, but he would bite, anyway.
“Why not, may I ask? It is merely a . . .”
“I know what it is, and I do not like thought-screens. I prefer that my mind be left
free to roam.”
Fossten’s thoughts raced in turn. Since the Tyrant was on guard, this was
inconclusive. It might—or might not—indicate that Gannel was controlled by or in
communication with Star A Star.
“Do not be childish,” he chided. “You know as well as I do that your accusations
are absurd. However, as I reconsider the matter, the fact that neither of us trusts
unreservedly the other may not after all be an insuperable obstacle to our working
together for the good of Boskonia. I think now more than ever that yours is the strongest
Thralian mind, and as such the logical one to wield the Tyrant’s power. It would be a
shame to destroy you unnecessarily, especially in view of the probability that you will
come later of your own accord to see the reasonableness of that which I have
suggested.”
“It is possible,” Kinnison admitted, “but not, I would say, probable.” He thought
that he knew why the lug had pulled in his horns, but he wasn’t sure. “Now that we have
clarified our attitudes toward each other, have decided upon an armed and suspicious
truce, I see nothing to prevent us from working together in a completely harmonious
mutual distrust for the good of all. The first thing to do, as I see it, is to devote our every
effort to the destruction of the planet Klovia and all the Patrol forces based upon it.”