Free The Godmakers by Frank Herbert Page B

ought to be here soon," Stetson said.
    A gust of wind tugged at Orne's cape. He staggered, caught his balance. "I feel good," he said.

    "You look like something left over from a funeral," Stetson growled.
    "My funeral," Orne said. He grinned. "Anyway, I was getting tired of that walk-around-style morgue they call a hospital. All of my nurses were married or otherwise paired."
    "I'd stake my life that I could trust you," Stetson muttered.
    Orne glanced at him, puzzled by the remark. "What?"
    "Stake my life," Stetson said.
    "No, no, Stet. Stake my life. I'm used to it."
    Stetson shook his head bearlike from side to side. "Be funny! I trust you, but you deserve a peaceful convalescence."
    "Get it off your chest," Orne said. "What's brewing?"
    "We've no right to saddle you with an assignment at a time like this," Stetson said.
    Orne's voice came out low and amused: "Stet?"
    Stetson looked at him. "Huh?"
    "Save the noble act for someone who doesn't know you," Orne said. "You've a job for me. All right. You've made the gesture for your conscience."
    Stetson managed a wry grin. He said: "The problem is we're desperate and we haven't much time."
    "That sounds familiar," Orne said. "But I'm not sure I want to play the old games. What's on your mind?"
    Stetson shrugged. "Well . . . since you're going to be a houseguest at the Bullones' anyway, we thought . . . well, we suspect Ipscott Bullone of heading a conspiracy to take over the government, and if you . . ."
    "What do you mean take over the government?" Orne demanded. "The Galactic High Commissioner is the government -- subject to the Constitution and the Assemblymen who elected him."
    "That's not what I mean."
    "What do you mean?"
    "Orne, we may have an internal situation which could explode us into another Rim War. We think Bullone's at the heart of it," Stetson said. "We've found eighty-one touchy planets, all old-line steadies that've been in the Galactic League for centuries. And on every damn one of them we've reason to believe there's a gang of traitors who're sworn to overthrow the League. Even on your home planet -- Chargon."
    "On Chargon?" Orne's whole stance signaled disbelief.
    "That's what I said."

    Orne shook his head. "What is it you want from me? Do you want me to go home for my convalescence? I haven't been there since I was seventeen, Stet. I'm not sure I . . ."
    "No, dammit! We want you as the Bullones' houseguest. And speaking of that, do you mind explaining how they were chosen to ride herd on you?"
    "That's odd, you know," Orne said, withdrawing reflexively. "All those trite little jokes in the I-A about old Upshook Ipscott . . . then I discover that his wife went to school with my mother -- roommates, for the love of all that's holy!"
    "Your mother never mentioned it?"
    "It never came up that I can recall."
    "Have you met Himself?"
    "He brought his wife to the hospital a couple of times. Seems like a nice enough fellow, but somewhat stiff and reserved."
    Stetson pursed his lips in thought, glanced to the southwest, back to Orne.
    He said: "Every school kid knows how the Nathians and the Marakian League fought it out in the Rim Wars -- how the old civilization fell apart. It all seems kind of distant now that the Marakian League has become the Galactic League and we're knitting it back together."
    "Five centuries is a long time," Orne said, "if you'll pardon a statement of the obvious."
    "Maybe it's no farther away than yesterday," Stetson said. He cleared his throat, stared penetratingly at Orne.
    Orne wondered why Stetson was moving with such caution. What had he meant by that reference to the Nathians and the Marakians? Something deep troubling him. Why speak of trust?
    Stetson sighed, looked away.
    Orne said: "You spoke of trusting me. Why? Has this suspected conspiracy involved the I-A?"
    "We think so," Stetson said.
    "Why?"
    "About a year ago, an R&R archaeological team was nosing into some ruins on Dabih. The place had been all but vitrified in the Rim