With the utter capriciousness that seemed to characterize all Earth's weather, the blue-and-gold day had suddenly changed into a garish, red sunset. The clouds, high in the eastern sky, still caught the dazzling sunlight. But, lower down, they shaded into pink and crimson and cinnabar, and, below these, there was a narrow band of clear sky which was pure lemon in color. Against that band of light the farther ridge of the shallow valley stood out, each distant tree or building-roof sharply silhouetted.
The light, washing across the fields in which he stood, changed by the minute. All the briars and weeds around him caught that glory, and put on a fantastic beauty. Far away, across the red western sky, two hawks quartered their way, planing and circling and effortlessly lifting. The soft, evening breeze murmured in his ear, as though trying to whisper secrets.
Birrel shook his head wonderingly. This place never seemed the same twice.
He started on toward Vinson's, and then he stopped. A voice was calling his name.
He turned around, and there was a man following him across the weedy field. The man did not come very fast, for there was a slight limp in his gait as he came across the uneven ground. Birrel stood stock-still for a moment. Then he went back to meet Ferdias.
CHAPTER 22
The light striking across the field in long, level rays could not account for all of the glow in Ferdias’ face. There was a sort of radiant eagerness about him, that showed in his eyes, and his step, and the way he grasped Birrel's hand.
'Well,” he said, “this is quite a place to meet again. I find Lyllin sweeping the floor in that quaint house, and you walking around the fields like an old farmer.'
He laughed. Then he looked around the sunset-reddened landscape, his tawny eyes, as always, seeming to take in every detail.
'So this is what Earth is like, away from the spaceports and cities? Not much, is it? But interesting.'
I take it,” said Birrel, “that your visit here is an unofficial one.'
Ferdias nodded in his quick way. “You know it is. Unofficial and top secret. That suspicious bunch at the UW would take alarm if I came here openly. So I slipped into one of those replacement scouts from the Second, and had Joe Garstang bring me up to this place. Surprised you, didn't I?'
'You did,” said Birrel. “I thought you were still at Vega.'
Ferdias shook his head decisively. “Oh, no — not with Lyra Sector, with complete autonomy in all their own local affairs.'
'It sounds fine,” said Birrel. “A real, fine offer. They'll throw it right back in your face.'
'No, they won't,” said Ferdias. “They can't, the spot they're in.'
Birrel said earnestly, “Look, Ferdias, I don't know politics the way you do. But I've got to know the people here a little bit. They won't go along with your idea. They'll fight, if necessary.'
'There won't be any fighting,” said Ferdias. “Oh, sure, the UW Council will object and argue for a while, but, in the end, they'll accept the alliance with Lyra.'
His voice hammered with confident emphasis, as though he sensed Birrel's inner reluctance.
'Jay, they have to, there's no other way out for them! The UW knows now that the time has come when one of the Sectors will absorb it. Solleremos’ try has shown them that. With him, or with Strowe or Gianea, it would be just a straight, brutal takeover. I'll be offering them an alliance of equals, with my only request a full fleet-base on Earth and an alignment of their foreign policy with Lyra's. It's better than they'd get from any of the other Sectors.'
Ferdias was speaking the truth about that, Birrel knew. But how long had this truth been in his mind? Had it been there when, at Vega Four, he had said that he had no designs at all on Earth? Had it?
'You don't like it,” Ferdias was saying. “Neither do I, really. But if I hold back now, I'm just making a gift of this world to one of the other Sectors. Would the people here prefer that to an alliance with us?'
'No,” Birrel admitted. “An alliance would let them keep their pride. But—'
'There are always a million ‘ifs’ and ‘buts’ in a thing like this,” said Ferdias. “But now, when the UW has just had a frightening object-lesson, is the time to push this alliance. We've got to plan, and plan fast.'
He started walking with Birrel back across the dusky fields toward the softly glistening lights of the old farmhouse. The weeds were crushed beneath their boots and the now familiar, bitter smell of the Queen Anne's Lace came to Birrel's nostrils as they walked.
'The whole Fifth will lift out the day after the commemoration,” Ferdias said. “The transports, as I said, can go straight back to Vega under light escort. How long can your cruiser force stand by and be supplied by your own auxiliaries?'
'Stand by — where?” asked Birrel. “It makes a difference, you know.'
'Well outside this whole system of Sol,” said Ferdias. “We don't want you anywhere near Earth, it would seem entirely too much like blackmail pressure and that's the last thing I want when I offer the alliance.'
'Standing by a parsec or two out there — say three-four weeks,” said Birrel, after running over the logistical problems in his mind. “Any longer time than that would make necessary a supply-stop on the way back to Vega later.'
'Three to four weeks,” repeated Ferdias thoughtfully, “It should be enough to put the alliance proposal across. If necessary, you could stretch that out a little?'
Birrel shook his head irritatedly. This was the sort of thing you always came up against when people tried to make political considerations override military and logistical ones.
'Sure I could stretch it out,” he said. “But we'd be in a low state of supply if we stretched it, even for a few extra days, and that would make it tough for us, if we got into a fight.'
'Oh, forget that. There's not going to be any fight,” Ferdias said impatiently. “We'll say four weeks, definite. If all goes well, you won't have to go back to Vega then — we'll have a base here and you can come back and re- supply right here.'
Birrel hated sketchy planning, it had a habit of coming back and hitting a commander in the face, but he knew Ferdias well enough to know that he would have to make the best of that. He did ask, “What about the escort for the transports? Remember, Solleremos doesn't exactly love us right now. But if I detach enough force from the Fifth to make an adequate escort all the way to Lyra space, I'll weaken my squadron seriously.'
'I thought of that,” said Ferdias. “An escort force from the Second will come in far enough to convoy the transports back — your detachment will only have to see them on the first leg of the way.'
More possible hitches, Birrel thought, but he did not raise objection now, for they had reached the farmhouse and Lyllin and Joe Garstang were sitting on the porch.
'Relax,” Ferdias said as Garstang scrambled to his feet. “Jay and I have some things to go over. And I need a drink.'
'I'll get you one,” Birrel said, nodding to Lyllin also to stay seated.
She gave him a look from unfathomable eyes, but said nothing.
He followed Ferdias into the lamplit living-room, and went on back to the kitchen for a bottle. He came back with it to find Ferdias looking around the room.
'Charming, in a way,” said Ferdias. He touched the rocking chair, looked at the wooden walls, and glanced into the big, old photograph albums lying on the table.
Birrel thought, as he went back to the kitchen for glasses,
He brought back the glasses. Ferdias had sat down and his hands were grasping his knees in a familiar gesture.
'Here's the way we'll lay it out,” he said. “The commemoration is day after tomorrow. All right, the Fifth can pull out right after it. I'll have left before then, of course, and, as soon as you've cleared Earth, I'll have the formal offer of alliance messaged to the UW from Lyra Council. You'll proceed with the Fifth on out of this system to wait,
