passageway. They crowded through and Shorr Kan slammed shut the panel behind them.
Lianna was sobbing, but Gordon paid no attention to her. He cried to Korkhann, 'Can you take us to a communications center. I must send a message...'
Korkhann, unused to violence, seemed still a little dazed. 'A message to the... the barons... ?'
'A message to Zarth Arn and the Empire fleet!' snapped Gordon. 'I know where the H'Harn armada is, and I must get that word through!'
25
Korkhann led them down by narrow, twisting ways buried within the walls of the palace, illuminated dimly by an occasional bulb. He brought them at last through another concealed door, into a long corridor.
'The palace Communications Center,' said Korkhann. 'The fourth door ahead.'
There was no one in the hallway, and they went down it rapidly, Gordon and Shorr Kan in the lead. And now, even through the massive partitions of the palace, they could hear a growing uproar above them.
'The horde is inside the palace,' said Korkhann. 'They will be killing all the counts' men...'
'And us too, if they find us,' said Hull Burrel.
They flung open the fourth door. Beyond it was the large room filled with the instruments of galactic communication. They went in very fast. A man who wore the uniform of the Mace sat at the bank of controls, which he touched with a curious uncertainty. Behind him stood two robed H'Harn, the ones V'ril had sent with the message for the H'Harn fleet. The man froze with his hands in mid air. The H'Harn turned swiftly, and died with the motion uncompleted.
Gordon aimed his weapon at the frightened operator. 'Did you send that message for the H'Harn?'
The man's face was greasy with sweat. He looked down at the small gray crumpled mounds and shivered. 'I was trying to. But they use different frequencies... modulations... all different from ours, and that takes time. They told me they'd take me over and hurt my mind if I didn't hurry, but I couldn't...'
The stupid H'Harn running true to form, thought Gordon. Use all other peoples simply as tools, and break them if they do not instantly perform.
He turned to Hull Burrel. 'You were in touch with Zarth Arn's fleet until the attack came. Reach them now.'
Hull threw the operator out of the chair and began punching buttons and turning vernier controls.
The uproar in the palace above them was penetrating more loudly to this level. Shorr Kan closed the door of the Communications Center and locked it.
'They'll get down here eventually,' he said. 'But it may hold them for a while.'
Gordon watched the door, sweating, until Hull established contact with the fleet. Telestereo was not possible at such distances, but Gordon could hear the voices of the fleet communications officers as they acknowledged and cut through channels to the top, and presently the voice of Zarth Arn was speaking to him.
'Just beyond the end of the Vela Spur,' said Gordon. 'That's where the H'Harn fleet is lying. They've got some new form of radar-concealment.' He went on to give every scrap his memory recalled, from the time his mind was twinned with V'ril's. 'I don't know,' he finished, 'if even this will help you to pin them down, but at least it's something.'
'I'll tell you, Gordon,' said Zarth Arn, 'we'll give it a damned good try!'
The contact was instantly broken.
So that was done. Everything was done that they could do. They looked at each other, not saying anything, and Gordon went over and took Lianna in his arms.
The uproar in the palace was louder and closer. They could hear doors being smashed in. There were screeching and yowling and barking voices, the flap of wings and the clatter of running hooves, always coming closer.
'It looks to me,' said Shorr Kan, 'as though we're getting near to all this heroic dying you've been dwelling on in such a morbid fashion.' He shrugged. 'Oh, well. At least Cyn Cryver got his. I could have forgiven the man his rascalities, but oh God, what a bore he was!'
Suddenly a new sound penetrated the palace. It was less a sound than a deep bass vibration, growing rapidly stronger, shaking the whole fabric of the great building, then passing overhead and away.
Shorr Kan's eyes flashed. 'That was a heavy battle-cruiser! Now I wonder...'
A second mighty ship went over the palace, shaking it till it trembled, and then a third.
Then, upon the telestereo plate, there appeared the image of a man... an elderly man, hard-faced and cold- eyed, wearing on his cloak the flaring emblem of the Hercules Cluster.
'The Baron Zu Rizal speaking,' he began, and then saw Lianna and said, 'Highness, I rejoice that you are safe!'
Shorr Kan had instantly turned his back to the tele-stereo, an action that did not surprise Gordon in the least.
'We smashed the counts' fleet in the Austrinus Shoals,' Zu Rizal was saying, 'and we are now over Hathyr with our full forces and what is left of the Fomalhaut Navy. Your city is obviously occupied by Narath's hordes... shall we blast them?'
'No, wait,' said Lianna. 'Narath Teyn and Cyn Cryver are dead, and I think...'
Korkhann stepped forward and spoke to her in a low voice. She nodded, and then spoke again to Zu Rizal.
'With Narath dead, I think the horde will return to its own worlds, if they know that destruction is their alternative. Korkhann has said that he will offer them the terms.'
'Very well,' said Zu Rizal. 'We will cruise on standby until further word from you.'
The image disappeared, and only then did Shorr Kan turn around again.
A sudden silence had fallen on the palace. The great warships were still thundering by overhead, but the screech and yowl and crying of the horde had faded away. It seemed that the coming of the ships had sent them scurrying outside, as though they felt that the palace had become a possible trap. They wanted running room.
'I think,' said Korkhann, 'that they will listen to me, because I am not human either.' He pointed to the communicator panel. 'Get word to the officers of the counts' transports, to be ready to receive these peoples and take them back to the Marches.'
He started away and then stopped for a moment and said, 'One more thing, Highness. I regret to say that Abro was killed in the attack on the palace.'
Gordon felt a sense of loss. Abro had disliked him thoroughly, but he had respected the man even so.
Hull Burrel remained with his ear to the instrument on whose wave-length he had communicated with the faraway Empire fleet His face was gray and lined with strain.
'Nothing yet,' he said. 'There may be nothing for a long time.'
If ever, thought Gordon. The H'Harn were powerful. If they should strike first, from their refuge of invisibility, and destroy the ship that carried Zarth Arn and the Disrupter...
He forced himself not to think of that.
The hours went by, and the great ships thundered past above, and Gordon and Lianna and Hull Burrel waited. At one point, Gordon realized that Shorr Kan had quietly disappeared.
Long later, Gordon would learn the story of what happened beyond the rim of the galaxy. Of the Empire fleet, with Zarth Arn's flagship in its van, racing toward the Vela Spur. And of how Zarth Arn had unloosed the terrible force of the Disruptor, time after time, bracketing with cold precision an area of space where there was nothing to be seen, until the continuum itself was bent and twisted and torn and all the stars along the rim quaked in their orbits, and the force that had concealed the H'Harn fleet was shattered. And still the Disruptor struck its vast invisible bolt, now aimed unerringly at the fleeing ships, until the H'Harn fleet had vanished forever from the universe.
All Gordon knew now was that these were the longest hours of his life, until the shaken voice of Zarth Arn came through.
'It's done. The H'Harn are smashed, and what's left of them are in flight, back to the Lesser Magellanic.'
