The Rival Rigelians

The boy looked up at him calmly, then at his father. There was a strength in the lad’s face, strength and calm, duplicating his father.

Reif looked into the Earthling’s face. “This is Taller Second, my son. You from First Earth have never bothered to study our customs. One of them is that a Khan’s son participates in all battles his father does. It is his training. One day, without doubt, he will lead the armies of the People.”

Plekhanov snorted ungraciously.

Barry Watson had turned back to the map, and was demonstrating again, his finger touching here, there. “They are coming down through here as fast as they can. They probably figure that at last they’ve got us at bay. They’re moving fast, and tiring themselves and their horses. By the time they get here, we’ll have had lots of rest, lots of time for preparation. It will take a full three days for their whole army to get through this defile.” He touched it with his finger. “It’s narrow.” He added with emphasis. “In retreat, it would take them the same time to get out.”

Plekhanov said heavily, “We can’t risk it. If we were defeated, we have no reserve army. We’d have lost everything.” He looked at Joe Chessman and Watson significantly. “We’d have to flee back to the Pedagogue.”

Reif’s face was expressionless, but his eyes went from one of the Earthlings to the other.

Barry Watson looked at him. “We won’t desert you, Reif, forget about that aspect of it. We’re all of us in this together.”

Reif said, “I believe you, Barry Watson. You are a…soldier.”

Dick Hawkins’ small biplane zoomed in, landed expertly at the knoll’s foot. It was a simple craft, propeller driven, and with a light machine gun mounted to fire directly ahead. A one seater scout, its pay load consisted of pilot and a few bombs. The occupant vaulted out and approached them at a half run.

His arrival coincided with that of Isobel Sanchez, who came up mounted on a snow white horse, richly saddled. She looked as though she was on a pleasure ride and came accompanied by two maids and a trio of her young, handsome interns.

Hawkins called out as soon as he was within shouting distance. “They’re moving in. Their advance cavalry units are already in the pass. The main body is only a day’s march behind.”

When he was with them, Plekhanov rubbed his hand nervously over heavy lips. He rumbled, “Their cavalry, eh? Well, let’s teach them a lesson. Listen, Hawkins, get back there and dust them. Use the gas. That’ll slow them up. Terrify the horses.”

The pilot said slowly, “I have four bullet holes in my wings.”

“Bullet holes?” Isobel said. She was slightly miffed by the lack of attention her arrival had precipitated. She had dismounted and moved to Leonid Plekhanov’s side, taking him by one heavy arm. “I thought it was only our side that had guns. Zen, this whole thing begins to get dangerous.”

They ignored her.

“Bullet holes?” Joe Chessman repeated.

Dick Hawkins turned to him. “By the looks of things, MacBride’s whole unit has gone over to the rebels. Complete with their double barreled muskets. A full thousand of them.”

Chessman closed his eyes, wearily. “How about MacBride?”

“I don’t know, Joe. All I saw was his cavalry fraternizing with the lead elements of Mynor’s force.”

Watson looked frigidly at Leonid Plekhanov. “You insisted on issuing those guns to men that we weren’t really sure of, then putting them under command of a man without military background. Why didn’t you let one of Reif’s officers head that detachment, somebody that would have recognized trouble when it started?”

Plekhanov grumbled, “Confound it, don’t use that tone of voice with me. We have to arm our men, don’t we? And as far as MacBride is concerned, I like to keep command in the hands of our group.”

Watson said, “Our still comparatively few advanced weapons shouldn’t go into the hands of anybody but trusted citizens of the State, certainly not to a bunch of mercenaries. If you can buy a mercenary, so can your enemy. He can buy him right from under you with more money. The only ones we can really trust, even among the Tulans—excuse me Reif, obviously I don’t mean you and your officers—are those that were kids when we first took over. The ones we’ve had time to indoctrinate.”

“The mistake’s made. It’s too late now,” Plekhanov said doggedly. “Hawkins, go on back and dust those cavalrymen as they come through the pass. Maybe we can throw enough of a scare into them that they’ll retreat.”

The seldom speaking Khan said now, “It was a mistake, too, to allow them the secret of the crossbow. It is a weapon almost as dangerous as the musket.”

Plekhanov suddenly angry beyond the bounds of his ragged temper, roared, “I didn’t allow them anything. Once the crossbow was introduced to our own people, it was simply a matter of time before its method of construction got to the enemy.”

There was the faintest of frowns on the forehead of Isobel Sanchez, she looked from Plekhanov to Reif, and squeezed tighter the pudgy arm of her lover as though to regain confidence.