“You are going to plunge the galaxy into hell all over again,” Vorgens said, “and you will not live to see the end of the chaos you cause.”
“Perhaps,” the Kang retorted, “but certainly you will not live to see even the beginning. Unfortunately, we do not have the time to enjoy the ceremonial execution that bearers of ultimatums are traditionally given. Therefore, you shall be shot, before the sun sets.”
With that, Okatar nodded to the guards. One of them seized Vorgens’ arm and turned him around. They marched out of the tent.
Vorgens walked blindly, numbly, seeing nothing and hearing nothing, his mind in a dizzying whirl that pulled in tighter and tighter on itself.
The Komani aren’t interested in a peaceful settlement. They want only war. Aikens was right. He was right! This battle, here on this minor planet, is only the opening skirmish in a war that will engulf the whole galaxy. The Empire is in danger. Humankind is in danger. If the Empire crumbles, nine people out of every ten will starve. If the Komani have their way. the whole fabric of civilization will be destroyed.
They want to destroy, to kill. They want to kiU me. I will be executed. Shot. Killed. Dead.
VII
Altai
Merdon sat at the low-slung table, feeling slightly uncomfortable in the overlarge Komani chair, and watched Vorgens walk numbly out of the tent, escorted by the six guards. Sittas remained at the doorway for a moment, and Merdon’s eyes met the old priest’s and held there. Sittas’ face was expressionless, but Merdon knew whatas in his mind.