violence. Only when I had bashed him unconscious did he feel that I was right. The mind reeled at this kind of perverse, inverted logic - and I really didn't have time to think about it. About all I could do was play along and forget about it.
'You know, ex-corporal, I think that I believe you. It takes a real man to admit that he was wrong. So even though you are a miserable low private and I am an on-high captain - I'm going to shake your hand and send you back to duty!'
'You're a real man, captain, and you will never regret this!' He pumped away at my hand, then staggered off knuckling a tear from his eye. There was a growing clatter from the sky and shadow drifted across us and I looked up to see the chopper dropping down toward us.
'Morton - you're in charge until I get back. Go to Sergeant Blogh and take command and let him make all the decisions and then agree with him.'
He could only nod as I guided Stirner to the chopper and climbed in behind him.
'Take us to the general,' I ordered the pilot. Then sighed heavily. I had the feeling that I was putting my head into the noose and settling it nicely around my neck. But, really, I had no other choice.
'I have read of such vehicles in the history books,' Stirner said, looking out of the window with admiration as we rattled skyward. 'This is a very important moment for me, nameless sir.'
'Captain, you can call me captain.'
'My pleasure to meet you, Captain. And thank you for the opportunity to explain to your leaders that they may come in peace. They must not be afraid. We would never harm them.'
'It was the other way around that I was worried about.' There was no more time for gossip because the chopper was dropping down beside an armored column of tanks. Tables, armchairs, and a wet bar, had been set up under a tent in the field close by, and we settled down just out of rotor-blast of the officers assembled there. I jumped down, delivered a snappy salute and relaxed. Zennor wasn't there. I turned and helped Stirner get out and pushed him toward General Lowender.
'This is the prisoner, sir. He speaks a vile local language which I just happened to have learned in school so I can translate.'
'Impossible,' he said grimly. 'You are an infantry officer, not a translator. Major Kewsel is the staff translator. Major, translate!'
The dark-haired major shouldered me aside and stood before the prisoner.
'Kton ci komprenas?' he shouted. 'Sprechten zee Poopish? Ancay ooyay eekspay lgpay Atinlay? Ook kook Volupook?'
'Very sorry, sir, but I don't understand a word that you are saying.'
'Got him!' the major announced happily. 'A little-known dialect, spoken on dreary planets trundling heavily around dark stars. I learned its boring cacophonies when I was involved in the meat trade years ago. Importing porcuswine cutlets…'
'Cut the cagal, major, and translate. Ask him where the army is and how many police stations there are in this city.'
I listened with some interest as the major, despite his inborn desire to talk and not listen, finally elicited the same information that I had. The general sighed unhappily.
'If this is true - then we just can't shoot them down in cold blood.' He turned to me. 'And you are positive there was no resistance offered?'
'None, sir. It apparently goes against their strongest beliefs. May I congratulate you, general, on the first bloodless invasion in the known universe! You will soon have captured this entire planet for the greater glory of Nevenkebla - without losing a single soldier.'
'Don't cheer too soon, captain. Medals don't go to generals who bring back the troops intact. Battle! That's where the glory is! There will be fighting, mark my words. It is human nature. They can't all be cowards on this planet.'
'Lowender - what's happening?' a familiar voice asked and my blood temperature fell about ten degrees. I did not move, stood stiffly with my back to the speaker. The general pointed.
'We have our first prisoner. General Zennor. I have been questioning him. He talks nonsense. No army, no police he says.'
'And you believe him? Where was he caught?'
'At the generating plant, by Captain Drem there.' Zennor glanced at me, then away. I kept my back straight and my face expressionless as he suddenly turned around to face me again.
'Where do I know you from, captain?'
'Training, sir. Maneuvers,' I said in the deepest voice I could muster. He walked over and pushed his face close to mine.
'That's not true. Somewhere else. And you were with someone else…'
His eyes lit with recognition and he stabbed his finger at me. 'The Bishop! You were with The Bishop - '
'And you killed him!' I shouted as I dived and got the three-seconds-to-death stranglehold on his neck. One second… unconscious. Second second… limp. Third…
All the lights went out. There was a great deal of pain in the back of my head and then nothing. My last thought was - had I held the grip through the third second?
Chapter 17
A measureless time later I was aware of pain spreading from the back of my head down through my body. I moved to get away from it but it would not leave. It was dark - or were my eyes closed? I had no desire to find out. Everything hurt too much. I groaned and it sounded so good that I did it a second time. Vaguely, through the groaning, I was aware of my shoulders being lifted and something wet on my lips. I gurgled and spluttered. Water. It tasted very good. I drank some and felt slightly better. The pain was still there, but not so much that I couldn't risk opening one eye. I did. A face swam blurrily above me and after a certain amount of blinking it became clear.
'Morton… ?' I muttered.
'None other,' With an expression of abject gloom. He pulled at me until I sat against the wall and my head appeared to be exploding in tiny bits. His voice barely penetrated.
'Take this, in your mouth. Drink some more water. The doctor said you were to swallow it when you came to. For the head.'
Poison? No such luck. Medicine. The pain ebbed and rose and finally slipped away to a dull ache. I opened my eyes all the way and saw a sad-looking and bruised Morton framed against a background of bars. 'Is he dead?' I croaked.
'Who?'
'General Zennor.'
'He looked very much alive when he was here about half an hour ago.'
I sighed drearily - and with mixed emotions. I had wanted vengeance, wanted Zennor to pay heavily for being responsible for The Bishop's death. I thought that I had wanted him dead as well. But having tried murder this once, really tried it, I was glad that I had been stopped. Now that I had made my first homicidal attempt I discovered that I did not really enjoy the process of killing people. I was a failed killer. And in failing I had really got myself in the cagal. And had pulled Morton in too.
'Sorry about all this,' I said. 'I got so carried away I never stopped to think that I would probably implicate you as well.'
'Sergeant Blogh turned me in when the MPs came to investigate. He knew I wasn't an officer. I told them everything. Even before they knocked me around.'
'I'm to blame for what happened.'
'Don't think like that. Not your fault. They would have got me sooner or later, one way or the other. The army and me, we are just not on the same plane. You did your best, Jak.'
'Jim. Real name is Jim diGriz. From a distant planet.'
