The tent was sparsely furnished with three cots, a table, a pair of chests, a few stools, and a single globular lamp overhead. Seated behind the table was Merdon, poring over a big paper map and a pile of reports; a miniature tri-di transceiver held down one comer of the map, and a beam pistol rested on the opposite comer.
Merdon looked up as Sittas said, “This is the Star Watchman I told you about.”
“Vhro’r^yns is my name. The Terrans find it easier to say Vorgens.”
Merdon looked into the Watchman’s tawny eyes and smiled. “In this case, I find myself forced to agree with the Terrans. I am Merdon—in Terran as well as Shinarian.”
Merdon gestured to the stools before the table, and Vorgens and Sittas sat down.
“Sittas tells me,” Merdon said, “that you can’t understand why so many Shinarians are here in the Komani encampment. The answer is simple: the Komani are here in Shinar because we invited them here. They are our guests, our allies. They are helping us to fight against the Terrans.”
Vorgens felt his breath catch in amazement. “You … incited the Komani? As mercenary troops?”
“As allies. Oh, I know what the Terran commanders think. They believe that we on Shinar are acting as unwitting pawns for some deep, dark Komani plan of conquest. The truth is exactly the opposite. The Komani are working for us.”
“Why?”
Merdon snapped, “Why? Why do you think? Because we want to be rid of the Terrans and their blasted Empire!”
“But why should the Komani help you? What do they gain by going against the Empire?”