The voice changed to the PanAsian tongue. Ardmore could not understand the words, but he knew the general line it would take. Downer was telling the war lords that vengeance was upon them, and that any who wished to save their yellow skins would be wise to flee at once. He was telling them that, but with a great deal more emphasis and attention to detail and with an acute knowledge of their psychological weaknesses.
The gross and horrifying pseudo-creature stopped in the park before the palace, and, leaning over, touched a massive finger to a fleeing Asiatic. The man disappeared. He straightened up and again addressed the world in PanAsian — but the square no longer contained PanAsians.
The fighting continued sporadically for hours, but it was no longer a battle; it was more in the nature of vermin extermination. Some of the Orientals surrendered; more died by their own hand; most died purposefully at the hands of their late serfs. A consolidated report from Thomas to Ardmore concerning the degree of progress in mopping up throughout the country was interrupted by the communications officer.
“Urgent call from the priest in the capital city, sir.”
“Put him on.”
A second voice continued, “Major Ardmore?”
“Yes. Go ahead.”
“We have captured the Prince Royal — ”
“The hell you say!”
“Yes, sir. I request your permission to execute him.”
“What was that, sir?”
“No! You heard me. I’ll see him at your headquarters. Mind you don’t let anything happen to him!”
Ardmore took time to shave off his beard and to change into uniform before he had the Prince Royal brought before him. When at last the PanAsian ruler stood before him he looked up and said without ceremony,
“Any of your people I can save will be loaded up and shipped back where they came from.”
“You are gracious.”
“I suppose you know by now that you were tricked, hoaxed, by science that your culture can’t match. You could have wiped us out any time, almost up to the last.”
The Oriental remained impassive. Ardmore hoped fervently that the calm was superficial. He continued, “What I said about your people does not apply to you. I shall hold you as a common criminal.”
The Prince’s brows shot up. “For making war?”
“No — you might argue your way out of that. For the mass murder you ordered in the territory of the United States — your ‘educational’ lesson. You will be tried by a jury, like any other common criminal, and, I strongly suspect hanged by the neck until you are dead!
“That’s all. Take him away.”
“One moment, please.”
“What is it?”
“You recall the chess problem you saw in my palace?”
“What of it?”
“Could you give me the four-move solution?”
“Oh, that.” Ardmore laughed heartily. “You’ll believe anything, won’t you? I had no solution; I was simply bluffing.”
It was clear for an instant that something at last had cracked the Prince’s cold self-control.
He never came to trial. They found him the next morning, his head collapsed across the chess-board he had asked for.