Free John Rackham by The Double Invaders Page B

We accept that you were obeying the order of
this man according to some insanity called Zorgan, but that no longer has
strength here, as you can see. We offer you the chance to do the work you can
do, that you are best fitted to do, here with us, and to become self-thinking
self-deciding Scartanni, like us. You have seen our planet, and us. What say
you?"
    Before
any of them could respond, Bragan shouted, "Tell them the alternative,
Mordin. Tell them what will happen if they reject your offer!"
    "I
think you know that already." Mordin shrugged. "If they do not
accept, then we put them in the stockades you so thoughtfully built for us, and
leave them."
    "Without food or
drink, clothing or shelter. Some choice!"
    "You cannot blame us." Mordin was
mild now. "You taught us this way of dealing with awkward situations. Now,
you men—"
    "Wait!"
Bragan hurled the order into the uneasy faces of his men, and added a sneer.
"Think before you decide. Think. You know what will happen in the long
run, whichever way you choose. Death by slow starvation now—or the other kind,
later!"
    "What
twisted idea fills your skull now?" Mordin demanded, and Karsh came in on
cue perfectly.
    "I'll tell you,"
he said, and there was instant quiet at the sound of his thick voice.
"Bragan is right, in his way. You think you're finished with Zorgan.
You're wrong. You've broken us, yes, but we are only a small part, a fraction
of the real thing. We judged we were big enough to take this small planet. We made
a mistake. At least, he did. But the mistake, the failure, that was
all ours. Zorgan doesn't fail, ever, not in the end. When we fail to report
back there will be others to want to know what happened. And they won't fail, I promise you that!"
    Thé mood of the meeting switched abrupüy into cold tension.
    "How
soon?" the old man demanded, and everybody knew exactiy what he meant. But
Karsh hunched his shoulders resignedly.
    "Not my field. That's higher strategy.
He's the only one knows the answer to that question."
    Now all the faces were hard on Bragan, and he
could afford to laugh at them in scorn. "FoolsI" he cried. "How
soon? What does it matter? What can you do? If you had a hundred years—and you
haven't—what difference would it make? Could you organize your silly system,
teach yourselves the arts of war, build weapons and defenses strong enough to
stand off Zorgan? Never! Not in a thousand years! When the word gets back and
the big fleet comes, as it surely will, and when they leam that you have broken
us, defeated us—then will be the time for all of Scarta to shiver with fear.
Because Zorgan will crush you, like thatl" and he stuck out his hand and
curled the fingers into a hard fist.
    "We stopped you!" Mordin retorted.
Bragan laughed again.
    "Six
small ships? Yes, you broke us, and I admit it freely. But you won't stop the
big fleet, old man; don't think it."
    "Hold
on a minute." Karsh came back into the picture. "That's not
necessarily true. Look; they stopped us cold, didn't they? And they didn't know
a thing. All they had was determination and wits."
    "What are you trying to say?"
Bragan challenged him. "Are you hoping to suggest that these primitive
people have any hope of standing out against the full weight of Zorgan?"
    "I don't see why not—with help!"
    "You must be out of your mind!"
    "I don't think so." Karsh was
stubbornly determined. "As
    I just said, they stopped us, with no help. And
they now have several hundred trained men—us—to pass on all the know-how—"
    "Traitor! Turncoat!" Bragan spat at
him. "You expect these men to throw in their lot with the Scartanni
against Zorgan?"
    "Why
not?" Karsh retorted sharply. "What have we got to lose?" He
turned to the bewildered troopers and ship's officers. "You know the
score. You know that Zorgan will come, eventually. And you know what happens to
us when the next fleet comes. They will tread this planet and its people
flat—and then they will deal with us. And you know how